Phantom World
Phantom World Mark A. Roeder
iUniverse, Inc. New York Lincoln Shanghai
Phantom World All Rights Rese...
8 downloads
574 Views
668KB Size
Report
This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form
Phantom World
Phantom World Mark A. Roeder
iUniverse, Inc. New York Lincoln Shanghai
Phantom World All Rights Reserved © 2004 by Mark A. Roeder No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher. iUniverse, Inc. For information address: iUniverse, Inc. 2021 Pine Lake Road, Suite 100 Lincoln, NE 68512 www.iuniverse.com This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are product’s of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All registered trademarks mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners. No infringement is intended or should be inferred. ISBN: 0-595-76608-0 Printed in the United States of America
This book is dedicated to those of every sexual orientation who fight against prejudice and hate.
Co ntents ▼
Introduction...........................................................................................1
JUNE 2003 Toby ......................................................................................................3 Mackenzie ............................................................................................10 Orlando ...............................................................................................14 Toby ....................................................................................................18 Mackenzie ............................................................................................23 Orlando ...............................................................................................28 Toby ....................................................................................................34 Mackenzie ............................................................................................39 Orlando ...............................................................................................43 Toby ....................................................................................................53 Mackenzie ............................................................................................59 Orlando ...............................................................................................68 Toby ....................................................................................................75 Mackenzie ............................................................................................82 Orlando ...............................................................................................86 Toby ....................................................................................................94 -v-
Mark A. Roeder
vi
Mackenzie ..........................................................................................100 Orlando .............................................................................................103 Toby ..................................................................................................112 Mackenzie ..........................................................................................119 Orlando .............................................................................................123 Toby ..................................................................................................131 Mackenzie ..........................................................................................141 Orlando .............................................................................................148 Toby ..................................................................................................152 Mackenzie ..........................................................................................158 Orlando .............................................................................................161 Toby ..................................................................................................168 Mackenzie ..........................................................................................172 Orlando .............................................................................................175 Toby ..................................................................................................178 Mackenzie ..........................................................................................186 Orlando .............................................................................................190 Toby ..................................................................................................194 Mackenzie ..........................................................................................202 Orlando .............................................................................................207 Toby ..................................................................................................212
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank Ken Clark, Lynn Grove, Jim Hertwig, and especially REC for proofing this manuscript. Without their efforts, it would be far less enjoyable to read. Proofing is a difficult and often thankless job, so I want to take this opportunity to say thank you!
- vii -
Intro ductio n ▼
Phantom World is the first novel in a new branch of the Gay Youth Chronicles. Set in southern Indiana, Phantom World introduces new characters, but has some familiar faces as well. I’m creating this new branch of stories to open up new possibilities, but the old characters won’t be forgotten. Those enamored of Verona, Indiana need not worry as I’ll continue writing novels set in that little northern Indiana town. If you’re new to the Gay Youth Chronicles, Phantom World will be a convenient starting place. If you’ve read my previous novels, you’ll find it a new world to explore.
-1-
June 2003
Toby
“Give it back, Mackenzie! Now!” I yelled. “Give it back, Mackenzie! Now!” repeated my little brother, mocking me. I shook my head. I hated it when he did this, when he repeated everything I said. He could keep it up for hours. He was the most annoying fifteen-year-old in the entire world—no, in the entire universe. “Give it to me or I’m gonna be late! Mom!” “Give it to me or I’m gonna be late! Mom!” repeated Mackenzie, in his approximation of a sissy voice. Mackenzie could’ve been the poster child for contraception. I could just see big posters of his smirking face with the words, “Don’t Let This Happen to You,” printed under it. I bet such posters would solve the overpopulation problem in a generation. “Why do you always have to call Mom?” “Why do you always have to be a little shit?” I shot back. “Language, Toby,” said our mother, as she stood in the doorway. Mom was beautiful, with curly dark hair and a real pretty face. She looked like a model, only shorter. “Shit isn’t bad language, Mom. I was just telling Mac he’s a little turd.” Mackenzie crossed his arms and glared at me. Mom chose to ignore my words. “Mackenzie Riester, give Toby his shirt back right now!” “Mom!” “Now, Mackenzie!” “Here,” he said, “it’s a freakin’ ugly shirt, anyway.” -3-
Mark A. Roeder
4
I ignored my little brother and slipped on my shirt, happy to cover my puny torso. I looked in the mirror. I liked the shirt. It was jack-o-lantern orange with black panels on the sides. Over the left breast were spooky embroidered letters that read, Phantom World. It felt like it was too big, but I knew that was only because I was too skinny. If I had muscles, it would fit just fine. “You ready?” asked Mom. “Yep.” “I’m so proud of my little boy,” she said, having a go at my cheeks. “I’m not a little boy. I’m sixteen.” “Okay. Okay. I’m proud of my young man.” I grinned and shook my head. I was a little nervous about my first day at Phantom World. My last few weekends were devoured by training sessions, but I still wasn’t sure I was up to the task. At the same time, I was psyched about working there. Mom and Dad used to take Mackenzie and me to Mystic Gardens, and I was bummed when I’d heard it was closing down. The old park had been there forever. My grandparents had taken my mom there when she was a little girl, and grandfather’s parents had taken him. It was a special place to a lot of people. I wasn’t the only one who cried when the local TV news reported the whole place was going to be demolished with a wrecking ball. I couldn’t believe it was going to be replaced with a massive shopping center. Like, anyone needed another mall! Then, just as the old theme park was set to be auctioned off piece by piece, the news hit that it’d been purchased lock, stock, and barrel and was going to be restored, expanded and turned into Phantom World. I think everyone in southern Indiana breathed a huge sigh of relief when that news hit. It was definitely cause for celebration. The park was closed for more than a year while renovations and construction was going on, but it was reopening—today! I’d dreamed about performing in one of the shows, but I’d applied too late, and all the acting and singing spots had already been snatched up. Those had been the first to be filled because there needed to be lots of practices before the reopening. I’d trained for the last four weekends, but the singers and actors had easily spent twice that long preparing for their first performance before I’d even started to train. Maybe next year, I thought. Yesterday, I’d been in school. Was I glad to be outta there! I liked school okay; it’s just that by the end of May I was tired of sitting on my butt in a classroom. Working in Phantom World would be so much more exciting, and I’d get paid. “What time should I pick you up?” asked Mom as she pulled the Cavalier out of the drive.
Mark A. Roeder
5
“I get off at eight tonight,” I said. “I don’t like you working such long hours—9-8 is too much.” “Most days it will be less, but today’s opening day, Mom. Besides, I get breaks and an hour for lunch. I’m workin’ at an amusement park not in a sweat shop making overpriced sneakers.” “Okay. I just don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.” “I won’t, Mom. In the training sessions they said we’d rotate jobs a lot, so no one will get too bored. They do that for safety reasons. You gotta stay sharp when you’re operating something like The Poltergeist.” “Is that where you’ll be starting?” “No, I may get a chance later, but they’re starting college kids on The Poltergeist for the first day. It’s the biggest coaster in the park, after all. This morning, I’m starting out on The Phantom World Railroad. You gotta see it sometime, Mom. It goes all around the park and even through three tunnels. One of ’em goes under The Poltergeist.” Mom drove into the huge parking lot that was already filling with cars and buses, even though the park didn’t open for another hour. I’d seen a lot of commercials for the park on TV, and there was stuff about it on the national news. MTV even did a special on it because the owner was Phantom (which was another reason I was dying to work there). I’d had a crush on Jordan, the lead singer, since I was thirteen, or was it twelve? Now there was a hot g! Mmmm. “Here’s fine,” I said, when Mom got up fairly close to the Main Gate. “I can walk from here.” “Give me a kiss,” she said and I obediently complied. She kissed my cheek in turn. “Break a leg, Tiger.” “Uh, that’s for plays, Mom.” “Well, good luck, then,” she said. Mom drove away and I walked toward the entrance, passing between cars and buses that were trying to find a parking space. When I got my own car, which I hoped would be soon, I’d go through the employee entrance near the back. As I neared the gate, I could see the forest of huge, creepy trees that surrounded the entrance. They were made out of some kind of concrete or something, but they looked absolutely real. They made me think I was entering some kind of spooky woods, like The Old Forest in the Harry Potter books. It was difficult making my way through the vast crowd that was already forming, but since I was wearing my Phantom World staff shirt and had my ID tag, I walked right on past the ticket booths and through the main gate. It made me feel kinda important. On the left of the asphalt path there was a graveyard, complete with a mau-
Mark A. Roeder
6
soleum and ancient-looking, moss-covered tombstones. Like most of the spooky stuff in the park, it had been put there recently, but it looked for all the world like it’d been there for years and years. A tall trestle for the Phantom World Railroad made kind of a U around the entrance to the park, enclosing the graveyard and an information booth. The tracks went right over the path. The railroad station was off to the right, but I had to go back near the rear of the park to clock in. I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have had Mom drop me off around back, because it was quite a walk across the park. I hoped I didn’t get lost, but then again, there were maps at various locations, so surely I could find my way. The train passed overhead just as I walked under the trestle. I loved the sound of it chugging along. The whistle blew, and I looked up to see a cloud of steam billowing from the engine. I just knew I was going to love working here. The calliope music of the old merry-go-round drew my attention away from the train. I’d read in one of the papers that it was real old, like from the early 1900s. It’d been brought in from another park that had closed. Some of the old Mystic Gardens buildings and rides were still around, too, but most of Phantom World was brand new. I was relieved that Phantom World had kept so much of the old park. It would’ve been sad to see the old Ferris Wheel carted away. Instead, it was still where it’d always been. Mystic Gardens lived on within Phantom World. I was amazed at how well the new mixed with the old. Anyone unfamiliar with the old park wouldn’t have a chance figuring out what had been around for decades and what was built just the last year. Looks were deceiving, like the ancient-looking cemetery by the entrance that had only been there for a few weeks. I walked past the merry-go-round and a huge skull. Just as I was about to pass the skull, its eyes flickered and it moaned at me. I jumped and then looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but the park was nearly empty since the gates hadn’t opened yet. I walked on past the bumper cars and then followed the path to the right. I was surer of myself now, for a long section of the path ran nearly straight from the front to the back of the park. This was the main path that had most of the food booths on it. I walked by another information booth where they sold park maps and umbrellas. Off to my left, I could hear the roar of The Poltergeist. It was the largest wooden roller-coaster in the world. I loved the sound it made, although it kinda freaked me out. I dunno why. I tried to fix each of the booths in my mind as I passed them, because I’d be working in a lot of them sooner or later. First, there was the souvenir booth, then sunglasses, followed by an iced-tea booth,
Mark A. Roeder
7
chicken nuggets, drinks, the first-aid booth, a cotton-candy stall and then a restroom. Just beyond the line for getting on the Ferris Wheel were the booths for balloons, more souvenirs, hats, lemonade, coffee and t-shirts. I followed the path that jogged to the right. There was a donut stand just in front of another spooky graveyard, and then the path turned left and went straight again. On this strip, there were another drinks booth, a seafood booth, a funnel-cake booth and a restroom. Up on the hill to the left was The Graymoor Mansion, the huge haunted house and centerpiece of Phantom World. I could hear moans and screams coming from it, as well as the sound of thunder. I couldn’t wait to get inside it on one of my days off. There was yet another information booth coming up, and there I made a left turn and followed the path off to the right. There were yet more booths, these selling popcorn, pizza, cappuccino, hot dogs, ice cream and more drinks. I finally reached the staff building, went inside and clocked in. On the way back toward the Phantom World Railroad, I tried to memorize all the booths again. I was getting confused. There were just too many of them! Phantom World wasn’t a huge park, not like Disney World, or Six Flags, or Busch Gardens, but it looked plenty big to me. It had The Poltergeist, The Twister (a smaller steel roller coaster), as well as the Splashing Specter, which was a water roller coaster. There was all the stuff you’d expect to find, like bumper cars, a merry-go-round, Ferris Wheel, Skee-Ball, tilt-a-whirl, and a scrambler. There was plenty of other stuff too, like a raft ride, a water slide that used huge inner tubes, old-timer cars, a Pirate-themed raft ride and more. And then, there were a couple of places where they would present shows—one of ’em was kinda a musical-fantasy story thing and another was all singing with pop music—most of it Phantom songs, of course. I thought about Jordan for a moment. I wondered what it would feel like to just up and decide you were gonna buy yourself an amusement park. How incredible is that? I guess he must’ve made a ton of cash from CDs and concerts and stuff to be able to afford it. I read somewhere that The Poltergeist cost $2.8 million to build and the Graymoor Mansion cost $1.2 million. I was sure none of the new rides was cheap, and then there were all the buildings, not to mention what he paid for Mystic Gardens, which I heard was something like $16 million. I guess that wasn’t a bad price for it, but still…I wondered how much he was going to be paying out each week in salaries. It kind of boggled my mind. Oh well, I didn’t have to worry about that. I just had to get where I was supposed to be before ten.
Mark A. Roeder
8
I made it with plenty of time to spare. The Phantom World Train Station looked like the real thing, with a long covered platform where the passengers embarked on their journey around the park. A beautiful red locomotive with the name Frightful Express painted on the side sat there with steam billowing out of its smokestack and along the sides near the wheels. It looked like an antique from the Wild West or something, but from its shiny appearance, I’d say it was new. It had gold and chrome along its sides which had been polished until it sparkled. It was one of the two locomotives that pulled cars around the park. The Banshee Express was identical, except it was bright blue. “Wanna take a ride?” called down the engineer as I was admiring the locomotive. “Um, I don’t know if I should.” “I can have you back before the park opens,” he said. “Hank and I are running the trains around a few times for a last minute shakedown.” I supposed Hank was the engineer of the Banshee Express. Krista, whom I’d met during training, was standing on the platform gazing at the train. “Go ahead, Toby, I’ll keep an eye on things here. I went earlier. It’s a blast. Charlie’ll have you back before you know it.” I grinned and looked up at the engineer, who was apparently called Charlie. “Okay, Charlie, let’s go!” I said. I climbed on one of the cars, which was open on the sides, but covered on the top. Charlie powered up the engine and the chug-chug became louder. There was a hiss of steam and we began to move, very slowly at first, but then a bit faster. The train climbed a gradual incline then made its way around the park on a raised trestle. I felt like I was high in the air, but we were only a few feet above the ground. Soon, a big hill loomed into view and we passed into a narrow tunnel. The bright sunlight disappeared and I was in complete darkness for a moment. Then, off to one side and then another, I saw silvery-blue ghosts and skeletons. I jumped at the sight of the first one. It looked so real. It wasn’t like a sheet thrown over something or anything cheesy like that. I could see right through the ghosts! And they moved! I couldn’t hear anything, because of the noise of the train, but I could just imagine them moaning. Off to one side, there were old miners who looked like they were trapped in a mine cave-in. Then, the tunnel got a little wider and we passed what looked like the scene of a train accident. There was a big ghostly locomotive with its passenger cars, twisted and turned on their sides. There were ghosts climbing out the windows, and a phantom engineer pulling himself out of the locomotive. Part of it looked solid, but some of it looked kinda transparent, too. I had no idea how they made it look so real, but it was awesome!
Mark A. Roeder
9
I was just expecting there to be a dark tunnel. I didn’t know there’d be stuff like this inside! It was like a train ride and a haunted house combined. I blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness of the sunlight as the train rolled out of the dark tunnel. I looked down as we traveled along the raised trestle, passing the Ghost Pirates raft ride on the right and the Splashing Specter water roller coaster on the left. Then, we went through a covered “bridge” and the steam from the engine wafted down around the cars. We passed into another tunnel, and, once again, creepy things were inside. About halfway through, I looked ahead and was terrified to see the tunnel collapsing, huge boulders falling around and nearly onto the Frightful Express. My heart lurched in my chest and my pulse raced, and the thought raced through my head that this terrible accident was going to spoil the opening day, and maybe endanger the park’s existence. But I realized almost immediately that it was just a part of the ride. How awesome is that? My pulse slowly returned to normal as the train chugged along into the sunlight once more. We passed near The Scrambler, and I could see the Fatal Falls log ride and the Water Demon water slide in the distance. Off to the left was the rear of the Graymoor Mansion, which stood almost in the center of park, and to the right was the towering latticework of wooden beams that was The Poltergeist. We entered the third and last tunnel, which went right under part of The Poltergeist. Inside this tunnel, giant spiders sat on webs and some even lunged for the cars or came down nearly on top of the train on thick, sticky-looking strands. I jumped when a huge amount of what looked like steam shot right through the car I was riding in. There was a roar and I jerked my head to see a vast, green-golden dragon spouting flames toward the train. It looked freaking real! We came out of the tunnel and slowly climbed a steep incline near the lake that was located beneath and behind The Poltergeist. The track took a sharp turn and passed by the old-timer cars and the bumper cars that I’d walked near earlier. The train reached the U around the entrance to the park and I could see a ton of people waiting to get in. There must’ve been thousands of ’em. We went down a sharp incline where the train traveled faster than ever and then pulled back into the station, behind the Banshee Express. I got off, thanked Charlie, and then joined Krista on the platform. “That was awwwweee-sooommmee!” I said. Krista and I exchanged grins. She made me feel happy and comfortable. If only she was a guy… It was just before ten and soon the very first guests of Phantom World would be entering the park. I thought I might just have the best job in the entire world.
Mackenzie
I rolled my eyes as Mom left with Toby. He was so pathetic. I was pretty sure he was queer, which made me a little uncomfortable sharing a room with him. I didn’t know, of course, but he didn’t like sports, he was always reading or writing in his journal (which I’d never been able to find), and he’d performed in every school play I could remember since he was ten. And then there was his music, if you could call it that. It was all boy-band stuff—Phantom—eww, Hanson— gimme a break, The Backstreet Boys—yuck, N’SYNC—double-yuck, Aaron Carter—barf, and all those other faggie groups. He had a big poster of Phantom hanging on his side of the room as well as another of that long-haired homo from the group. If that didn’t prove he was queer, I didn’t know what would. The shirtless Aaron Carter photo was a pretty good tip off, too. I hated that cutesy freak. If I ever met him, I’d pound his face. I’d searched Toby’s stuff for porn, as well as for his journal, but had never come up with anything. He probably had a secret stash somewhere I was yet to discover. Mine was under the carpet in the corner behind my bed. I only had a couple of old Playboy magazines and a Penthouse, but I kept ’em hidden flat under the carpet ’cause Mom would freak if she found ’em. Yeah, I could just hear that lecture—these magazines are degrading to women, Mackenzie Riester; you’re too young to be looking at something like this—and on and on. I wondered where Toby’s stuff was hidden away. Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to take another stab at finding it. I figured it had to be in our room somewhere. I searched under his dresser drawers and came up with nothing, although it was a good hiding place I’d have to remember. I looked under the desk drawers, - 10 -
Mark A. Roeder
11
too, but still nothing. I got on my back and looked under his bed, thinking he might’ve stuck something between the boards holding it up and the mattress. All I found under the bed were old socks, my baseball mitt that had mysteriously disappeared, candy wrappers and some dust-bunnies that were huge enough to attack. I pretended one pounced on me and was going for my throat, like that bunny in Monty Python and The Holy Grail, “Oh no! It’s just a harmless little bunny! I told you!” I giggled until I smacked my head on the bed—ouch! I dug into the closet, but wasn’t turning up anything. Toby was a neatness freak and even kept his shoes in the boxes they came in. Can you believe it? He organized everything. His shirts were hung according to color and type. He even separated and folded his socks! Sometimes I liked to slip one of his green shirts in with the blue ones or put a white pair of socks in his black pile. It drove him crazy, which is what I’m all about. I finally got lucky when I checked Toby’s anally organized shoe boxes. I noticed his old pair of cowboy boots didn’t fit in the box quite right. For some reason, the lid didn’t fit on. That would’ve meant nothing if it belonged to anyone other than my anal brother, but it was a red flag since it was Toby’s. I checked it out and there was a piece of cardboard in the bottom, cut out to the same size as the box. I lifted it up and, oh yeah, Toby’s stash! It figured. There was no actual porn, but there were a couple of Undergear catalogs filled with pictures of nearly naked guys, a teen magazine devoted to Phantom, and a few pages torn out of catalogs showing guys in Speedos and underwear. Yeah, big bro definitely had somethin’ to hide. If he wasn’t queer, he would’ve had Playboys like me, or at least pages ripped outta catalogs with pictures of girls in bras or somethin’. Here was clear-cut proof Toby was bent, although it came as no surprise. I’d suspected Toby of being queer about as long as I could remember. There was always somethin’ not quite right about him. I carefully put everything back as I found it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my evidence yet. It would be fun to pull it out and shove it in Toby’s face and listen to him fumble for some excuse, but maybe I could think of somethin’ better. There was no use in rushing into things. Besides, planning to torment Toby was nearly as fun as actually doing it. ✶
✶
✶
✶
I thought about calling Billy, but was it too soon? He’d only taken notice of me in the last couple of weeks of school, and I didn’t want to blow my chances. I couldn’t afford to look desperate. Billy had taken a liking to me right after I
Mark A. Roeder
12
punched out Simon Girard for calling me a wuss, and I’d been playing it cool since then, being friendly with Billy, but not too friendly. When he’d asked me to start sitting at his table at lunch I’d agreed, but only after pretending I was a little reluctant to give up my old place near the wannabe jocks. Billy’s table was definitely a step up. Billy didn’t fit in with any group. He wasn’t a jock, a punk, a nerd or an Abercrombie & Fitch clone. He was a…I don’t know the word for it, but he had a presence that didn’t match his appearance. Billy dressed in worn shirts, worn-out jeans and scuffed, unfashionable combat boots that’d obviously been purchased at someplace like Goodwill and had then been worn until they were close to falling apart. Anyone else who dressed like that would’ve been put down, but not Billy. No one dared to mess with him. It’s not like he went around acting all tough or threatening people, though. He wasn’t a bully. He just had a presence, like I said. Even the jocks who ruled the school didn’t give him any shit. He wasn’t one of them, but he kind of had jock privileges without being one. Billy wasn’t popular, either, but…. It’s hard to explain, but it was like he was popular without being popular, just like he gave off this jock vibe without bein’ a jock. Billy seemed to disapprove of just about everything, and, for some reason, it made people respect him. Billy was my age, but it didn’t seem that way. He seemed older. He never pulled rank on me, although something in his eyes said he was in control. He was like that with everyone around him, such as the little group who sat with him at lunch. Billy was the obvious leader, but it went unsaid. If someone got smart with him, he punched them hard in the shoulder or glared at them, but that was the extent of it. He stayed on top by reputation. Most of the time when I saw Billy he was alone. Other guys only hung with him when he wanted. He had control like that without even seeming to try. That’s what I wanted. He did beat someone up now and then, but, like I said, he didn’t fit the bully mold. Billy was in a class by himself. Just two days after he asked me to join his table, we both almost got caught smoking behind the gym. Billy did get caught, but he convinced the P.E. teacher I hadn’t been smoking with him. I admired the way he protected me. He was loyal like that. He didn’t nark on anyone, no matter the consequences, and he wasn’t afraid to take the fall for someone else. Billy was fearless. No one scared him. Maybe that’s why the jocks respected him. Billy had attitude. I grabbed my baseball, bat, and mitt and headed for the park, hoping for a chance encounter with Billy. If he wasn’t around maybe I could at least find someone to play with. It was early June and nice and warm—a perfect day to
Mark A. Roeder
13
spend outside. I realized when I was halfway to the park that I hadn’t left a note for Mom saying where I was, but she’d probably figure it out. I’d be back in time for lunch anyway—probably. There were a few guys from school at the park—no one especially cool, but at least we could play catch. A little later, some more guys showed up and we got a game going. We didn’t have enough people, but at least we could field two teams of five. It was way better than nothing. My thoughts went back to Toby and what I’d found in our room. It was a bit disturbing to have my suspicions of him confirmed. It just figured I’d get stuck with a homo brother. I wished I could trade him for Billy, or at least someone else who was straight and cool. I wondered if Toby had anything interesting written in his journal. I knew he had a regular journal and a computer journal. I’d never been able to find his handwritten journal. He carried it with him most of the time, but he couldn’t do that with his computer journal, so maybe I’d give finding it another crack. He’d probably have it guarded with a password, but there were ways around that. I bet there’d be lots of interesting things written in there. I smiled. Maybe I had something to do after all. Once the game was finished, I’d go home and see just what else I could find out about my big brother.
Orlando
The park was crowded with cute girls—eye candy specifically designed to torment me with what I couldn’t have. I was lucky enough to start my day working the Water Demon, a ride with huge round rafts that rode a series of rapids. I was lucky, because by the end of the ride, just about everyone was soaked to the skin, and I was able to see some interesting sights. Especially intriguing were the girls who wore white or yellow shirts and no bras. It was almost as good as seeing them naked. I had to readjust myself a few times so no one would notice my, uh…interest. There were a few good looking guys, too—the competition. I sometimes looked them over just to see what I was up against. It was easy on the Water Demon. Their wet shirts clung to their bodies, revealing the swell of their chest muscles and the bulges in their arms. Sometimes their wet shorts revealed bulges, too. And then, there were the guys who stripped off their shirts to show off their bodies—advertising. Those were the guys who had the most to show. Those were the boys who beat me hands down. I liked my body, but I wouldn’t have minded to be even more muscular, like some of the guys getting off the ride. My breath was coming a little fast and I knew I had to get myself under control. The Phantom World shorts were a bit revealing and I feared my arousal was obvious. I tried to force my mind away from the girls and back to business. Maybe I wasn’t so lucky in my morning assignment after all. It was a little like being tortured. I was in charge of supervising the exit. It was my job to make sure no one stayed on the rafts, either because they wanted to ride again or because they - 14 -
Mark A. Roeder
15
couldn’t get their seat belt undone. I was also there to make sure no one slipped and fell and to hand back valuables that had been left behind for safekeeping. It was a pretty easy job really. It beat the crap out of the job I had last summer working in a fast-food place. Flipping burgers and mopping floors—yeah like that was a blast. I don’t think so! I grinned or winked at the girls who flirted with me as they got off the rafts. They made me feel good about myself. I knew I was kinda cute, which sounds immodest as hell, but it’s not like I thought I was hot stuff—just kinda cute, not real cute. There was a big difference. I was no model or anything, but I liked my short, spiked hair and I was in pretty good shape, too. A lot of girls liked my voice. Thanks to my Mom, who came to the U.S. from Spain just before I was born, I had a bit of an accent—not much, but I’d been told it was sexy. Sometimes I exaggerated it on purpose, especially when a girl seemed to like it. Kids used to make fun of my accent in grade school, but that came to an end right after I kicked Davy Robinson’s ass for teasing me about it. My year round natural tan came from my family, too. Dad was Spanish, just like Mom, even though his side of the family had been in the U.S. for a couple of generations, so I looked like I’d been tanning, even in the dead of winter. The girls liked that even more than my accent. Mom said I sounded a lot like my dad, but I didn’t know about that, because he ran off with a younger woman when I was four, so I didn’t remember him very well. I know Dad hurt Mom, but she didn’t say much about him. She always said that if you couldn’t say something nice about someone, then you shouldn’t say anything at all. Maybe that’s why she never talked about Dad. When he left, it was kind of like he’d never existed. I used to ask where he’d gone and why he’d left, until Mom finally told me the truth when I was eight. I didn’t like it. Finding out my dad had just up and decided to abandon Mom and me made me feel like I’d just been punched in the heart. I noticed a boy looking me over as he got off the raft and I had a pretty good idea he liked what he saw. It made me feel kinda funny. Sometimes that happened. Sometimes a guy looked at me the same way the girls did. When it was a guy, it felt sort of…odd. I gazed at the boy for a moment, wondering if he was one of the boys I’d heard about—a queer. There were harsher names for it, but that didn’t quite seem right. The boy smiled at me. I smiled back, not knowing if I meant the smile, or if I was just doing “guest relations.” Phantom World was going to be a good place to work, I could just tell. I was getting $8 an hour, which was way more than I could get anywhere else. On top of that, I got a free season pass and a fist full of passes good for one day that I
Mark A. Roeder
16
could give away to friends. I was going to give Mom one and maybe one to Gene, the guy who’d been taking Mom out for the last couple of weeks, although I wasn’t sure how I felt about him yet. Drinks were free in the park, so I could guzzle soft drinks until I overflowed, which was cool because I had a real addiction to root beer. All employees got 50% off of food and a food allowance of $10 a day on top of that. We all carried ID cards that were kind of like credit cards, only they were good for food. As long as I didn’t spend more than $10 a day I wouldn’t be out a dime for meals. And, after getting 50% off, $10 bought a lot of food. The prices in the park weren’t bad either. They were about the same as most fast-food places. I liked that. A lot of parks charged outrageous prices for stuff, but not Phantom World. Most guys my age were saving up for a car, but I was helping Mom with the bills. Dad had been a pretty successful lawyer, which was unfortunate for Mom and me, because Mom didn’t get much in the divorce. The house, one of the few things she got in the settlement, wasn’t paid for yet when Dad left, so Mom had to sell it and buy a much smaller one. Mom had to handle a lot of things. I’m not complaining about my life or anything. It’s not like we were real poor; it’s just that it would’ve been cool if I could’ve saved my money and bought a car or something, instead of paying the electric bill. It would’ve been kind of nice to shop in a real store, too, instead of Goodwill and the resale shop on Oak Street. I bought all my own clothes. I liked Structure stuff, which I mostly got on eBay. I’d never had much money, so I’d learned to make the most of what I did have. It was sort of like it was God’s compensation for my lack of funds. I wore a lot of the same stuff as my friends but paid much less for it, like the cool Gap sweater I snagged last Christmas at Goodwill for three bucks. Chase Simmons from school had one exactly like it, and he said he paid $80 for it in the mall. I didn’t say where I got mine, but I was laughing inside. By noon, I was starving, but my “lunch” wasn’t until 1:30. Lunchtimes had to be staggered, otherwise there would be no staff working the rides in the middle of the day. I didn’t mind too much, but I made a mental note to carry some candy bars or something to snack on so I wouldn’t get too hungry. I could buy those in the park, too, with my ID card. That thing was sweet. I was scheduled to switch from the Water Demon to The Poltergeist at 11:45. We were told to keep our watches in sync with park time and leave exactly when we were supposed to. Duties were staggered as well, so that all the park employees wouldn’t be switching jobs at one time. That would’ve been chaos. Instead, just a few of us were switched every fifteen minutes. It was a complicated schedule, but apparently necessary.
Mark A. Roeder
17
I couldn’t wait for my day off. I’d spent a lot of time in the park, but hadn’t actually gotten to ride anything or just explore. We’d gone through a lot of training sessions, but it wasn’t the same as getting to ride the Fatal Falls or the bumper cars or whatever. Walking through the park was a little like being tormented— just like the girls on the Water Demon whom I could see, but not touch. I was surrounded by all this cool stuff, but I couldn’t experience any of it—not yet anyway. I did derive a sort of vicarious happiness from the smiling guests who were enjoying the park. I loved the scent of corn dogs, French fries, funnel cakes, and freshly baked cookies that forever wafted on the air. I loved the sounds of the park, too—the squeak of bumper car pedals, the rushing roar of the roller coasters, the powerful whir of the scrambler, and the music of the carousel and Ferris Wheel. I was surrounded by a world of fun and excitement. I reminded myself the time would soon come when I could enter the park as a guest. I thought about the free day passes I had. I wondered whom I should invite to come with me. I’d give one to my best friend Eddie for sure. He was working at the Marathon in town, but he had a couple of days off a week. Eddie was kind of a burnout. He smoked weed, and I was pretty sure he did harder stuff sometimes. His bloodshot eyes were a sure giveaway. Eddie offered me pot once when we were fourteen, but I turned him down and told him I didn’t do that stuff. That was one thing cool about Eddie; he didn’t try to pressure me into anything. When I told him I didn’t do weed, that was that; he never offered it to me again. He smoked it around me sometimes, but he didn’t try to get me into it. When we were fifteen, I lit up a cigarette in front of him and he smacked it out of my hand. Don’t start that shit, he said. It’s way worse than weed. You get started on that and you’ll never be able to stop. The fuckin’ tobacco companies wanna get everyone hooked. There’s only two reasons tobacco’s legal and weed isn’t. The tobacco company’s own the government, and pot’s easy to grow on your own, while tobacco’s not. I figured Eddie knew what he was talking about, since he definitely grew his own. I’d seen his little farm in the basement under grow lights. His dad didn’t care, as long as he shared. Eddie might be a burnout, but he’d kept me from smoking and he was a good friend.
Toby
I couldn’t believe how many people were in the park. Someone told me over 12,000 tickets had been sold in the first hour. Tons of people were riding the Phantom World Railroad, but if I were guessing, I’d have said there were maybe 1,000 people walking around, instead of 12,000 and more. One really cool thing about the park was that it was spread out. Everything wasn’t all crowded together like I’d seen in some amusement parks. Phantom World was more like a town park, with wide-open spaces and lots of trees. The flower beds were wonderful, too. I loved flowers and the park had some of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. The scent alone was heavenly. Krista and I kept plenty busy. It was our job to let just enough people onto the platform to fill the seats, and no more. It required a lot of counting, which got a bit tiring, so we switched off on that. It was sometimes hard to get the train loaded up quickly, because people naturally wanted to stick with their groups— parents with their children, friends with other friends, couples with each other. We tried to get each train filled as quickly as we could, because there was always a line of people waiting for the next one to come along. Krista and I had a lot of time to talk with each other and the guests. I told Krista about Mackenzie, but I didn’t have too many good things to say. Mac wasn’t exactly a bad little brother, but he was sure a bratty one. His main hobby was giving me trouble. Sometimes, I wanted to smack him, but I was afraid to because he was tougher than I was. He might be a year younger, but he was athletic and strong. Sometimes, he made me wrestle with him. I wasn’t interested in the least, but he pounced on me so I had no choice. I never won, even though I - 18 -
Mark A. Roeder
19
did try. I hated his smug, superior grin when he’d pinned me down and made me say “you’re the master” or some crap like that. I pretended I didn’t try when we wrestled, but the truth was I put everything I had into it and still lost. I didn’t tell Krista about that. At 11:30, it was time for me to switch over to the merry-go-round. I bid Krista goodbye, hoping I’d be assigned to work with her a lot. We could request partners, so I was going to see if I could get paired up with her. She was fun and just plain nice. I felt completely at ease around her. I was working with a guy named C.T. on the merry-go-round. He sparked my interest immediately. C.T. was the most obviously gay boy I’d ever met in my life. His voice alone was a tip-off. He sounded like a younger version of Jack from Will and Grace. I was instantly attracted to him, not because of his voice, but because of his hair. He had beautiful, straight blond hair that was kinda long. It would’ve looked out of control on most boys, but on him it was just right. He had these long bangs that were forever in his eyes. He was always pushing them away so he could see, but they never stayed off his face for more than a moment. I wondered why he didn’t cut them, but I didn’t want to suggest it because they made him look so cute. I wanted to grab him and kiss him. Yeah, come to me, baby. C.T.’s eyes were green and real pretty. He had long eyelashes. When he looked at me it made me weak in the knees, just like in the movies. I found out he was a year older than I was—seventeen. I almost lied and told him I was the same age because I didn’t want him thinking I was a kid, but I didn’t like to lie. Besides being wrong, it was just too hard to remember things if I lied. I had enough trouble remembering things as they really were. The sight of C.T. brought up feelings that were never buried very far beneath the surface. What I wanted most in the entire world was a boyfriend. I dreamed about boyfriends. I read about them in books like Common Sons and Desert Sons. Maybe C.T. and I could be like Joel and Tom in Common Sons. He’d definitely have to be Joel, ’cause he was the blond one, and even though C.T. wasn’t built like Joel, he was lots closer than I was. Tom was slimmer and had dark hair, black I think, just like mine. I think Tom’s hair was even kind of curly. Mine was very curly and I wore it kind of long just so I didn’t go through life lookin’ like a Brillo pad. Anyway, I desperately wanted a boyfriend and C.T. was the most likely candidate I’d come across in a long time. There was also the advantage that he didn’t go to my school. I was always scared, no terrified, of approaching a guy at school ’cause I was afraid of getting my butt kicked. I wasn’t exactly out, but I wasn’t in, either. I think most people kind of suspected I was gay, but didn’t ask. No one
Mark A. Roeder
20
had ever asked me. If they would’ve, I’d probably have told them the truth. But then again, I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do so. I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t see if C.T. wanted to have lunch with me—if he had the same lunchtime, that is. I was kind of getting ahead of myself, though. One step at a time, Toby. You just met him, I reminded myself. It was mostly smaller kids and their parents who rode the merry-go-round, as it was one of the calmer rides in Phantom World. There were kids my age, too, and even older people, but most were younger. C.T. was real good with the little kids. Most parents rode near their kids, but when they didn’t and got scared, C.T. ran over and stood by them or held their hand. He was really sweet. I wished he’d hold my hand. The music blared, but I enjoyed it. I’d always loved all kinds of music. The merry-go-round, or carousel, had calliope music. The sign by the entrance said it was built in 1902. It had been fully restored and must’ve cost a fortune. There were all kinds of beautifully carved and polished animals—zebras, giraffes, lions, tigers, bears and more. There were a couple of big peacocks, with their feathers all spread out to become benches where guests could just sit and go around and around without moving up and down like on all the other animals. I loved the peacocks. They had kind of an iridescent sheen to them and were all blues, greens and purples. They were really pretty. I couldn’t believe I was getting paid to work at this place! A couple of teenage boys gave C.T. some trouble. They made fun of his voice by mocking it and lisping. I didn’t know if it bothered him or not, because he ignored them and just kept smiling. We were supposed to always smile when we were working. It was part of “guest relations.” I imagined C.T. had been made fun of a lot, ’cause, like I said, he was the most obviously gay boy I’d ever met. I was completely straight-acting by comparison. I didn’t ask C.T. to have lunch with me. I wanted to think about things before I spent much time with him so I wouldn’t move too fast and do or say something stupid. For now, I planned to just be real nice to him and then maybe later I’d ask him. I’d keep an eye on him and watch to see if he checked me out. I’d also keep my ears open for things he said that might have a double meaning—anything that would give me some sign he was interested. I had no idea how to go about getting a boyfriend. All I knew is stuff I’d read in novels, and I wasn’t sure if real life worked like that or not. I wish someone would write a book called, A Gay Boy’s Guide to Landing a Boyfriend, but I doubted that would happen. If I ever found one, I’d buy it, even if it cost a hundred bucks.
Mark A. Roeder
21
My entire first day was wonderful, but my feet were dead tired by the time I began my shift on the Old Timers. I was in charge of stopping the cars as they came in. Some people had a tendency to bump the car in front of them, which wasn’t good for the cars. There was an antique-looking stop sign at the end of ride, and there I climbed on the side of the cars and drove them up to the starting point. I wished I could sit down in one and rest. As soon as the riders got off, the guy who was working with me, Ben or Bill or whatever his name was, let another pair out of line to get on. I gave them quick instructions and they were on their way. I liked the Old Timers. I think they had golf-cart engines, covered by a body that looked like it was a Model T or something like that. The cars had cool spoked wheels and looked like real antique cars, only smaller. There were lots and lots of cute boys in the park, some of ’em riding the cars. A great many of them were too young to be of any interest, but there were plenty my age and older. I liked the older ones best because they were taller and had more muscles. There was one riding with his girl. He had brown hair the color of hot cocoa and was wearing a red tank top that showed off his bulging biceps. I intentionally brushed up against his arm as I climbed on his car. The contact sent a shiver through my body. I wished I were the girl with him. If I were, I would’ve been on that boy like white on rice. I didn’t let my eyes roam too much, but since my job was dealing with guests, I had plenty of opportunities to smile at them and talk. Of course, I didn’t ignore the guys who weren’t cute. I wasn’t a jerk after all, but I did get some boy-watching done while I was working. I yearned for a boyfriend. I’d have taken one of the non-cute boys in a flash if he was nice and funny. I knew good looks when I saw them (and I sure liked looking), but I wasn’t stuck on appearances. If I could find a plain, ordinary, sweet guy, I’d be all over him. If he was plain lookin’, or a little pudgy, or whatever, it wouldn’t matter. My thoughts went back to C.T. He was both cute and sweet. Long before it seemed time, the sky darkened and closing time was upon Phantom World. Guests headed for the entrance in a mass, with a few lingering to take a last look at the flowers and beautiful lights or to purchase an ice-cream cone or funnel cake. The park was especially lovely at night. It was filled with lights and shadows that made it look like a whole different place—both spooky and beautiful at the same time. The Ferris Wheel was a slowly spinning wheel of white light in the darkness, and the carousel had a warm golden glow to it that made it appear even
Mark A. Roeder
22
more magical than in the daylight hours. Strings of lights ran over the paths under the trees and the moonlight was allowed to illuminate the open spaces. Phantom World felt like a huge county fair that just went on and on without end. I admired the sights and sounds as I walked toward the staff lounge to clock out. I munched on cotton candy while drawing in the scent of flowers, freshly fried donuts, and buttered popcorn. I leaned in to catch the scent of the cotton candy. I liked blue the best. It smelled the same, but I’d learned when very young that it tasted much better than pink. My feet were tired and my legs ached, but I’d had one great day. I even had a prospective boyfriend. I almost couldn’t wait to get back to see what the next day held in store for me.
Mackenzie
“He’s such a freak,” said Billy, as he tossed the football to me. He was speaking of my brother. “I bet he just loves working in a park owned by those boy-band queers.” “I’m sure,” I said. “That’s probably why he works there. He even has a Jordan poster on his wall.” “Yeah, we should draw a mustache on it or somethin’.” “No way, man, then I’d have to listen to him whine.” Billy laughed. After my unsuccessful search for Toby’s journals, I’d returned to the park to find Billy sitting alone on a bench. It was the chance meeting I’d been trying to make happen. Billy seemed glad enough of my company and quickly warmed to the topic of my pathetic older brother. I’d brought my football along and we stood in one of the wide-open spaces of the park and tossed it back and forth while we discussed my brother’s weirdness and overall freakishness. Billy had seen Toby at school, but hadn’t realized he was my brother. It was a fact that both confused and pleased me. Toby and I looked pretty much alike, but I tried to distance myself from him. It wasn’t cool to have an uncool brother. Billy had a good arm on him. He could’ve easily gone out for football. I almost mentioned it, but then thought I’d better not. An organized sport didn’t seem like Billy’s thing, and I wanted us to be friends. I needed to tread lightly until I knew the lie of the land. Billy was kind of like a bog: Step in the wrong place and you’re gone. “I’ll tell ya something if you can keep it a secret,” I said. I’d had no intention of telling anyone about what I’d found in Toby’s shoebox, but Billy had warmed - 23 -
Mark A. Roeder
24
to the topic of Toby quickly, and I wanted to get in good with him as quickly as possible. “You know you can trust me,” said Billy, placing his hand over his heart. He seemed about as insincere as he could get, but what did I really care? I proceeded to tell him about the Undergear catalogs. “It figures, man. I always figured your brother was queer. Anyone who sings in a musical has to be—barf!” Billy did an impersonation of Toby’s performance as Oliver in Oliver Twist, which he’d performed at school last year. Billy had me rolling on the grass in fits of laughter. “I’ve thought he was a homo for a long time,” I said. “Anyone who listens to those CDs has to be.” I proceeded to tell Billy about Toby’s music collection. Billy pretended to hurl at the mention of Aaron Carter. “I see we have somethin’ in common,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to kick Aaron Carter’s ass.” “Yeah, I’d like five minutes with that punk. He’s so cocky, thinks he’s such hot shit, but I could show him a thing or two, the rich little bastard.” I laughed. “Hey, I saw Becky Wayne here earlier,” said Billy. “You know her, I’m sure. She was wearin’ this tube-top-like thing. Man, I wanna pop her.” Becky was a girl from school, a senior, and she was hot. “Who doesn’t wanna pop her?” I asked. “Your brother!” said Billy, causing me to laugh again. “Damn,” said Billy. “Becky is fine. I’d bet she’d be great in the sack. I think she’s still goin’ with Ted what’s-his-name? I bet she’s better than Cindy Erickson, and I know she’s good.” “Really? You and Cindy?” “Hell, yeah, man. It was at that kick-ass party Chase Simmons had about a month ago. Cindy was all hot for Mike Bradley, you know, the football jock? But, anyway, he went off with Tami Sterling so I moved right on in. She’d been drinking and wasn’t quite all there.” Billy grinned evilly and continued his tale. “I got her outside with me and she gave me head, right in the shrubs in Chase’s front yard. She’s damn good, too, man.” Billy’s story made me stiff. “Shit! I wish I could get Cindy to give me head, or any girl for that matter.” “Never had it?” “Not yet.” “We’ll work on it.”
Mark A. Roeder
25
“Cindy?” “Nah, man, she wouldn’t go for you. She wouldn’t have gone for me if she hadn’t been wasted. She likes them big, jock football players.” “Don’t they all?” “Well, not all of ’em, but too many. Anyway, I’ll see what I can do. We gotta get you laid, man.” I grinned. Having Billy as a friend sure looked like it had some bitchin’ fringe benefits. “Hey, I’m starving. Want to go get something to eat?” asked Billy. “Can’t, I don’t have any money.” Billy smacked his head, “Neither do I.” “Mom will fix us something,” I offered. “She won’t mind?” “Nah. Come on.” “Cool.” My plan was speeding along nicely. Billy was coming home with me. I had a feeling Billy was a key that would open a lot of doors. He wasn’t much older than I was, but he knew things—and people. Besides, he was cool to hang with. We were back at the house in no time at all. Mom baked us a frozen pizza, and Billy and I ate it at the kitchen table. Billy was extra nice around my mom. He knew just what to say. He was like that with people. It was a skill I admired in him and one I lacked. Toby eyed Billy cautiously when he came into the kitchen. We were finishing off the pizza and demolishing a bag of potato chips. Toby pulled out a bowl and a box of his favorite cereal, Cookie Crisp. “Hey, isn’t that the new gay cereal?” asked Billy. “Huh? Gay cereal?” asked Toby, his brow furrowing and his face growing red. “Yeah, homos! Snap, crackle, and bend over!” Billy laughed so hard he choked, and I lost it, too. “Shut up,” said Toby, as he poured milk on his cereal and then took it upstairs to our room. ✶
✶
✶
✶
Toby conked out early and Billy went home. Mom wouldn’t let me go out again, since it was getting late, so I decided to put the time to good use and do a little snooping. I powered up the family computer and began to search for Toby’s journal. I knew he kept it on the computer somewhere, likely disguised as some-
Mark A. Roeder
26
thing else. It took me a good forty minutes, but I finally found a suspicious word-processing file called “Toby’s Address Book.” The file size was way too big to contain just addresses. I tried opening it and found it was secured with a password. Yeah, it had to be his journal. Why else would it have a password on it? I tried to hack past it, but none of the usual tricks was working. I wondered if I could put the program I’d found on the internet to use. It was meant to break into sites requiring a username and password by running through a list of thousands of possibilities, trying every conceivable combination. I’d tried it a few times to get into porn sites that required a membership. Most of the time it didn’t work, but sometimes I got lucky. I tried adapting the program to hack into Toby’s journal, but I couldn’t get it to do what I wanted. Frustrated, I tried typing in passwords I thought he might use—Phantom, Hanson, Backstreet, Aaron Carter, and on and on. I tried his birthday and our phone number, too, but no luck. I grew tired of trying to hack into Toby’s journal, so I thought I’d do a bit of snooping on the hard drive. I knew lots more about computers than Toby, even though he was the geek of the family. I got into the internet history to see what I could come up with. Most of it was just crap, of course, sites Mom or Dad or I had looked at. I found entries for Phantom and Hanson websites—what an obsession my brother had with boy bands. I came across an entry that included “shirtless aaron carter” in the address. Wasn’t his poster enough for him? If Toby wanted to see a bunch of pics of Aaron Carter without a shirt, that was more proof he was queer, but it wasn’t of much use or interest. I found some other sites in the history like “shirtless teen celebs” and “shirtless boybands,” but no actual porn. Damn, my brother was boring. Finally, I found something of interest, “Gay.com.” “Let’s see what you’ve been doing, Toby,” I said to myself as I brought up the link. I traced Toby’s path through the site and most of it was boring. This wasn’t a porn site either, not that I wanted to see any naked guys. I just wanted to find out more about what Toby had been up to. I discovered Toby had been in the chat rooms on the site any number of times. The history was only for the past 30 days, but he’d been chatting a lot under the username, Phantomboy16. Damn, even his screen name was Phantom related. The boy was obsessed. Hmm, interesting—profiles. I checked to see if my brother had created one. He had. I clicked on the link. There was no photo, but he’d written some stuff: “18 years old.” Liar. “5'8”, 120 pounds, black hair, brown eyes. Interests include theatre, music (especially boy bands), reading, and gardening.” How pathetic and
Mark A. Roeder
27
boring could you get? I read his comment, “I’m looking for a boyfriend, but I might consider just sex with the right guy.” Puke. There was more, but it wasn’t interesting at all. I shut down the computer. If I’d had any doubts before, they were gone. Toby was queer. You don’t have a profile saying you’re looking for a boyfriend if you’re straight. I’d have to do some thinking about what I’d found. I wasn’t going to say anything to Toby just yet. I wanted to keep some tricks up my sleeve. I also wanted to keep Toby in the dark. Big bro had no idea I could tell what he’d been doing on the internet, and I wanted to keep it that way. Besides, there were plenty of ways to drive Toby nuts. I could save my newfound knowledge for later.
Orlando
I held the raft steady while a couple of little girls climbed in. I was working the Ghoul Lake raft ride, which was probably the least exciting one in the park. It was popular, though, and I could see why. I’d always liked rowing a boat around on a lake, and that’s pretty much what the ride was all about. There were a series of big two-man rubber inner-tubes with paddles. Guests rowed themselves over the lake. It looked like they were just rowing wherever they pleased, but there was an underground track that the tubes followed. There was another illusion to the lake, as well. It looked like a natural lake that was plenty deep, but the part where the ride was located had a depth of only three feet. If there was trouble, I could easily wade out and pull in the rafts. I was working with a really cute girl, named Krista. She had curves in all the right places, and I had to fight myself to keep from staring at her chest. I found myself wishing I could get a look at her coming off the Water Demon with her shirt all wet and adhering to her chest. Calm down, Orlando. You can only adjust your shorts so often without her noticing. Krista was beautiful. Her blonde hair shone like gold in the sun and those eyes—wow, they were light blue and so pretty. “I like working Ghoul Lake, don’t you?” asked Krista as she guided another pair of little kids my way. I swallowed. Why did my throat try to close up when she spoke to me? “Yeah, it’s beautiful here,” I said. She smiled. Wow. I wanna kiss you so bad, I thought to Krista. It was a pity I didn’t have the courage to say it, but, then again, we’d just met. - 28 -
Mark A. Roeder
29
We looked out over the little lake for a few moments after I gave the tube a push to get it going. The sun sparkled on the surface, making it look as if it were made up of diamonds, or stars. The Poltergeist was on the other side of the lake. The roar of the cars careering over the tracks and the screams of the riders were loud enough to be heard over most of the park. The giant roller coaster wasn’t far away, but it sounded for all the world as if we were standing next to it. I guess the water carried the sound. An elderly couple was next in line. They were having a little trouble getting into the raft, so I slipped off my shoes and hopped down into the water to steady the tube and help them get seated. By the entrance, the water was only about a foot and a half deep and it was pleasantly warm. “How do you get your hair to spike up like that?” asked Krista when the old couple was on their way. “This is pretty much the only way my hair will go when it’s this short. My hair’s real straight.” “It looks sexy,” said Krista. Sexy? “Thanks,” I said, wondering if she was just making conversation or if she was flirting with me. I hoped she was flirting. Please, God, let her be flirting! My heart was racing. My stomach rumbled. I hoped Krista didn’t hear. I glanced at my watch— 1:15. Thank God, it was nearly time to eat. “Hey, when are you off for lunch?” I asked. “Um, 1:30 today.” “Me too. Wanna eat lunch together?” “I’d like that,” said Krista. I grinned, hoping I didn’t look too goofy. My chest felt all tight and the next fifteen minutes seemed to last forever and pass in an instant, if that makes any sense. I felt like I was in some weird time distortion. When our replacements arrived, Krista and I walked down the path, heading for the main walkway where most of the food booths were located. “What do you feel like?” I asked. “Burgers, hot dogs, seafood, or…” “I’m kind of in the mood for chicken. I think they have those chicken fingers down by the Splashing Specter.” “Mmm, yeah, like the ones at Arby’s with that honey mustard sauce to dip them in.” “Oh, I love those, especially with that sauce!” Krista and I hurried along, passing the Ferris Wheel, The Graymoor Mansion, and lots of different booths. Soon, we were ordering. I almost couldn’t believe
Mark A. Roeder
30
that my order of chicken fingers, fries, and a root beer added up to only $2. Of course, drinks were free and I got 50% off. I didn’t know if I’d ever use up my entire $10 allowance in a day. It accumulated, too, which was great. Sometime, when I was going home at the right time, I was going to get supper for Mom and me. That would help us make ends meet. Krista and I found a vacant bench in the sun and sat down with our lunch. She told me how she was saving up for college. She was planning on going to veterinarian school. “Oh, that’s cool,” I said. “I have two guinea pigs, Hershey and Snowball. Hershey is a chocolate colored male and Snowball is a mostly white female. She looks like of like one of those snowball things, you know, covered with coconut with chocolate cake and cream filling inside?” “Those are cute names.” “I’d like to have a dog, but they’re too expensive with all the shots and stuff. Hershey and Snowball are fun, though. You should see ’em running around their cage, chasing each other and squealing. Snowball squeals real loud if they’re out of food, too.” Krista laughed. “I love animals,” she said. “That’s why I want to be a vet.” “I don’t think I could handle that,” I said. “It would be hard seeing cats and dogs and other animals hurt, and I could never put anything to sleep.” “Yeah, I know, but as a vet, I’ll be helping them. I will see them hurt, but I’ll be making them better.” “True. I found a little rabbit with a broken leg once. I made a little splint for it and set it loose. Mom helped me. I forget what we tied the splints with. It was something that would disintegrate after a while so the splints would fall off.” “Oh, that’s so sweet of you and your Mom. Smart too, thinking of the splints needing to come off.” “That was Mom’s idea. She thinks of everything.” “What do you want to study in college?” “I dunno,” I said. “I’m not sure I’ll be going. It’s just Mom and me and we don’t have much money.” “Maybe you can get a scholarship or something like that. I think there are programs to help low-income people.” Krista looked down and then glanced at me as if she were alarmed. I didn’t understand until she spoke. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you mad.” “Why would I be mad?” “Some people don’t like it if you talk about them not having money.”
Mark A. Roeder
31
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I don’t see anything wrong with being low income. Mom works hard and I work, but it’s just tough to pay for everything, you know? I’m working here to help out. I think it’s the really rich people who should be ashamed of themselves. I mean, there are people out there who don’t even have enough to eat, and then there are people who live in big mansions and own all kinds of crap they don’t even need. They should be using some of their money to help out people who really need it bad, but they don’t.” “Yeah, that’s sure the truth,” said Krista. Lunch hour just whizzed by. Krista was not only beautiful, she was sweet and kind and fun. I really liked her. “Hey, where you headed next?” “The Twister.” “Cool! Me, too.” Krista smiled. I think she was as happy as I was that we’d be together longer. We tossed away our paper baskets, napkins, and cups and headed across the park toward the roller coaster. It was near the entrance to the park, across from the Phantom World Railroad. The Twister wasn’t as big as The Poltergeist, but it had a lot more loops and turns. In a few places, it even went upside down. It was a steel coaster and the cars held five people across, unlike The Poltergeist, which had room for only two. When we arrived, there was a huge line. The coasters were some of the most popular rides in the park. The guys we were replacing took off, but a third nervous-looking boy stayed. “Toby,” said Krista and he smiled. “You want to handle taking cameras and things for people, Orlando can check the restraints, and I’ll run the coaster?” “Sounds good,” said Toby. He looked relieved. I think the idea of actually running the coaster frightened him, although it was really nothing more than pushing buttons and keeping track of the board. The computer did all the real work. My job was probably the most difficult—making sure the restraint bar was pulled down for every row. Most people did it themselves, but it still had to be checked since it wouldn’t lock in place if it wasn’t pulled down far enough. Actually, the computer could just about take care of that, too. It wouldn’t send the cars out if all the restraints weren’t locked in place. All the rides at Phantom World had a lot of safety features built in. They were more or less idiot-proof, which was good, because I could be an idiot at times. I hoped to keep that a secret from Krista. Toby seemed like a nice kid. He looked a bit younger than I was. He was kind of small and had very curly hair, which he wore kind of long. I gathered he and Krista already knew each other.
Mark A. Roeder
32
When the first car was on its way, we had a chance to talk. Krista introduced us. Toby was full of energy and kind of crazy. He was a nice addition to Krista and me. Part of me wanted Krista all to myself, but having Toby there kind of took the pressure off of having to think of what to say. So far, our conversation had come pretty easy, but even during lunch there were times when I didn’t quite know what to talk about. I wanted Krista to think I was witty and funny, and I was afraid I’d say something stupid to ruin the illusion. I wondered about asking Krista out on a real date. I didn’t want to move too fast, though. She was probably used to guys asking her out the first chance they got. At the same time, I didn’t want to get beat out by some other guy. This was only our second day of work, and I just knew other boys had to have their eye on Krista. Toby was sure chummy with her. I didn’t think Krista would go for him, although I didn’t know her type. Toby was a good-looking kid, but he was kind of short and skinny. I figured Krista would want someone a little more mature, someone more man-like. I sure hoped so, but, at the same time, I hoped she didn’t want an older guy. There were plenty of college guys around, and some of ’em looked like they’d stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. I was going to get to know Krista a bit better before I asked her out, but I wasn’t going to wait long. ✶
✶
✶
✶
I answered the front door. “Hey, sport. Is your mom home?” It was Gene, the guy who’d been taking Mom out some. They were kind of dating, I guessed. Mom hadn’t really said. She was sort of shy talking about that kind of thing. I hadn’t made up my mind about Gene, but he wasn’t making any points calling me sport. “Yeah, she’s in the kitchen. Mom! Gene’s here!” I yelled. Gene handed me ten bucks and winked. I watched him as he headed for the kitchen and then slipped the money into my pocket. I’d seen this strategy before: Get to the mother by getting in good with the son. Lots of guys had been after Mom over the years because she was pretty. The guys who wanted to date her usually gave me stuff or took me places. I liked a few of them, but Mom obviously hadn’t found one she liked well enough to keep. I wasn’t sure about Gene, but he kinda struck me as fake. There was something in the way he smiled at me. He’d probably try and get rid of me as fast as he could if he ended up marrying
Mark A. Roeder
33
Mom. Of course, if that meant paying for college, it might not be a bad thing. I was going to withhold judgment until I knew more. Mom invited Gene to supper, which meant I had to sit and eat at the kitchen table with them. Mom made me eat with her a lot, but I could often get away with eating in front of the TV or up in my room. If there was company, I was doomed to the table. Mom made some generic hamburger-helper-type stuff from Save-a-Lot. It was good, though. The generic stuff was often as good as the real thing and sometimes better. I liked the Big-K drinks from Jay-C way better than Coke or Pepsi. Generic cranberry juice was the best, too, but toilet paper: no way. Give me Charmin any day! “So, Orlando, do you have a girlfriend?” asked Gene. Why did everyone have to ask the same question? “No, but I met a girl I like.” “Maybe I should give you some pointers.” “No, thanks.” I resented the way he was trying to act like my dad, but I didn’t show it, for Mom’s sake. I wanted her to make up her own mind about whether she liked him or not. If she did, I’d just bite the bullet. Gene wasn’t as old as Mom. He was like twenty-eight, and Mom was forty. She’d never gone out with such a young guy before. It made it that much weirder when Gene tried to act fatherly. He wasn’t that much older than I, just eleven years. He could almost have been my brother. I didn’t mind when Mom dated. After all, Dad just up and left us, so why shouldn’t she date? I wondered if Mom was dating a younger guy to get back at him some way. But, it’s not like Dad knew about it. We hadn’t seen him since he took off. I excused myself as soon as I could. I was dog-tired and didn’t like sitting there with Mom and Gene. They probably wanted to be alone anyway. Gene gave me a wink as I left the kitchen, as if to say, “Thanks for taking off so I can have time alone with your mother.” I guess having her teenaged son around did kind of put a cramp in his style. I closed the door to my room, and then stripped down to my boxers and lay on the bed listening to music. It was early, but exhaustion took me and I fell asleep listening to The Moffatts singing Life on Mars.
Toby
Orlando was cute! Not only that, he was freaking hot! I prayed he didn’t notice me looking him over, but damn, I couldn’t help myself. That short spiky hair and that awesome tan were just about too much for me. Orlando had a nice build, too. I liked the way his chest muscles pushed against his shirt. I liked the way his biceps pressed against his sleeves. And that voice! How sexy can you get? Wolf. I’d seen some cute guys at the park, but Orlando was in a class by himself. There was something about him that just made me weak in the knees. I actually lost myself in a little daydream as I was working with him and Krista on The Twister. I pictured him taking me in his arms, holding me tight and kissing me right on the lips! Orlando would make one sweet boyfriend. Unlike C.T., whom I’d met the day before, Orlando didn’t seem gay. I knew most guys weren’t. Only 10% of us were queer, right? I could still hope, though. Orlando was fun. Krista obviously liked him. She and Orlando joked around a lot. I joined in, but I felt a little shy around him. We’d only just met, after all. I liked his sense of humor, though. I even caught some things that tipped me off that he liked some of the same old BBC comedies I did—the ones they sometimes played on PBS, like Good Neighbors and Manor Born. When Orlando referred to one of our bosses as a “pathological supervisor,” he even sounded like Barbara Good talking about Margot Ledbetter from Good Neighbors. He even did the British accent, which sounded both cool and weird mixed with his Latin accent. I wondered where he was from.
- 34 -
Mark A. Roeder
35
I had a lot of time to think about Orlando, because after my shift on The Twister I was assigned to the cotton-candy booth. Most of the booths just had one person running them, except for the hamburger booth and others that required more cooking. Cotton candy was a one-person booth, so I stood there alone for a couple of hours. I could see the merry-go-round in the near distance and hear its music. That was where Orlando was working. Krista had gone on to the bumper cars. I was kept pretty busy serving customers and making cotton candy. It was weird how sugar crystals could be changed and fluffed out until they looked like cotton. I had to sample some of it, of course. I probably ate a couple of bags full in the two hours I was there. Even though there were plenty of customers, I had a lot of time to think to myself. Mostly, I thought about Orlando. I wished I had the courage to just ask him out—just kind of a boys’ night out sort of thing, although I wasn’t quite sure what that was. Did going to a movie count, or did it have to be something like bowling or…or…one of those other guy-type things? It was times like this I wished I was better tuned into guy stuff. I’d always been a little confused over the excitement most guys showed when they were watching basketball on TV or something like that. Mackenzie and Dad could go crazy when some guy made a basket or scored a touchdown. Sometimes, they even jumped up and hugged each other. The whole thing baffled me. I wanted to see if I could get assigned to work with C.T.—C.T., Krista, and Orlando—that was going to be my request. I wondered about C.T. Was he as confused by guy stuff as me? I wanted to get to know him so we could talk, but I couldn’t just up and say something like, “Hey, you’re gay, too, aren’t you?” I had to ease into things somehow. I wasn’t too worried about revealing myself to C.T. He seemed pretty safe. Still, I didn’t want to screw things up. C.T. was my best shot at having a boyfriend. At least, he seemed the most likely candidate so far. Orlando and C.T.—they were definitely going to be my main targets. I’d keep my eyes open for other possible boyfriend material, of course, and just for the fun of looking at boys, but Orlando and C.T. were the ones I was going to concentrate on. If things didn’t work out with one, maybe they would with the other. In any case, I liked ’em both and wanted to hang out with them even if nothing ever happened between us. I stood there in the booth daydreaming about my boys. I wondered what it would be like to kiss them. I even pictured them kissing each other. I was glad the lower half of me was hidden, because my thoughts of C.T. and Orlando were exciting me.
Mark A. Roeder
✶
✶
✶
36
✶
When I got home, Mackenzie, a.k.a. the little monster, was over at Billy’s house. That was good news. I knew Billy from school, at least by reputation, and it had unnerved me to see him in my very own kitchen the night before. I hoped he wouldn’t start hanging around. Well, most of me hoped that he wouldn’t. But he was kinda cute, so there was a part of me that…well, anyway. Mackenzie was bad enough all by himself, and I had the feeling that, when combined with Billy, he’d be vastly more annoying. Mac was usually a jerk, but if he teamed up with Billy it would be two against one, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Mom and Dad went out, so I actually had the whole house to myself for a while. I heated up some macaroni and cheese from the ‘fridge and hopped on the internet. The computer screen faced away from the living room, but it was still nice to be online without worrying that someone would come over and cause me to quickly jump to a less incriminating site. There were a lot of Yahoo Groups that had cool photos of shirtless boys. I belonged to several and often spent a lot of time looking at the pictures. I’d also gotten into chatting on Gay.com. It was cool because there was an Indiana room and even rooms of towns that weren’t too far away, although there usually wasn’t anyone in those. I signed onto Gay.com and worked my way into the Indiana room. It was kind of a pain to get in there because you had to sign on, then get into chat, and then get into the room. Sometimes, it was full so I had to try over and over and over to get in. I swore our internet connection was the slowest anywhere, and tons of people always got in before me while I was waiting for a spot to open up. Even though there were several people on, I was able to get right into the Indiana room this time. I recognized a lot of the screen names. Some people seemed to live in there. There was also what was called “bots” that weren’t real people at all, but computer programs advertising something or other, usually something nasty. I got excited once because someone with a cool screen name sent me a private message. I don’t remember the name, but it was something like abercrombieboy16 or something like that. It turned out to be a stupid bot. I’d talked to a few real guys, though. Most of them were older and wanted to meet up with me. I was tempted sometimes, even though it was guys as old as my dad, but I didn’t want to waste my first time on some old guy. I was afraid, too. I’d heard plenty of scary stories about internet hookups. I didn’t want to end up in the trunk of some psycho’s car.
Mark A. Roeder
37
What I really wanted was a guy near my age whom I could talk with. If he was close, maybe we could be boyfriends or even just meet up and do it. I’d decided I was willing to do that, if the right guy came along. I wanted my first time to be with a boy I really cared about, but I wasn’t going to wait forever. I’d be willing to settle for a guy I liked. He didn’t even have to be cute, just a nice guy. That kind of thing seemed hard to find, though. There were plenty of guys looking for fun, but they were either too old, too scary, or both. I received a pvt, or private message, almost as soon as I signed on, but it was some guy asking if I wanted to hook up. I hated that. There’s no way he had time to look at my profile. He was just blindly asking me to have sex with him. There was no way I was gonna hook up with someone like that. I ignored him. About the only thing I hated more was when someone pvt’ed and asked how big I was. Since my height and weight were in my profile, they had to be referring to Little Toby (that was my nickname for my, um…well, you know). What a way to start a conversation. I wasn’t about to tell anyone something like that. Well, at least not right off. Anyone who asked me that the very first thing got ignored. There were some real creeps online. I’d learned that fast. After half an hour or so of nothing interesting happening, someone new came in the room. There were always guys exiting and entering, but I recognized most of the names. I’d talked to a few of them before—just chatting. I was doing that with one guy who lived up north when I got another pvt. This one didn’t start out with a question about my length, it just said, “Hey, man, what’s up?” “Nothing much,” I typed. “How old are you?” “16,” I typed, forgetting my profile said eighteen. I’d learned a lot of guys wouldn’t talk to you if you weren’t at least eighteen. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t even old enough to be in the chat room, so I lied about my age unless I forgot. “Hey, cool, I’m 16, too.” I looked at the screen name. It was jockboy16. I looked up his profile, but there was none. “Where do you live?” I typed. “SW Indiana, kinda between Princeton and Jasper.” “Really? Cool! I live in that area, too!” “Nice, what do you look like?” he asked. “I’m about 5'8", 120 pounds, black hair, brown eyes. My hair is curly.” “Sounds good. I’m 6', 170, short black hair, brown eyes.” “Cool,” I typed. I thought about typing in Mmmmm, which was what I was thinking, but I didn’t want to seem sex-crazed.
Mark A. Roeder
38
“You’ve gotta cool screen name.” “Thanks,” I typed. “You like Phantom?” “Oh yeah, they’re cool. That Jordan is hot.” “I LOVE Phantom and especially Jordan. I mean, wow. Ross and Kieran are cute, too, but Jordan…” “LOL, you’re definitely into them. I like them, but I’m more into their music. It’s the same with the other boy bands. I listen to their stuff, but I couldn’t tell you their names or anything if my life depended on it. The only name I know is Jordan, but who doesn’t know about him?” “Yeah, that’s cool.” I grinned. I’d never found another guy on Gay.com who liked Phantom. I’d gone in some of the Yahoo Phantom Chat Rooms and talked to guys there, but that was a different kind of scene. It was just chat. On Gay.com, chatting could lead to something. Hopefully, that something would be a nice boy to date. “So, what are you looking for on here?” I’d heard that question before. It was usually followed by, “Do you want to hook up?” I was thinking I wouldn’t mind if jockboy16 asked me that, even though I was hoping for more than just sex. “A boyfriend, or someone for fun, or just a friend.” “Yeah? Cool, me too. So, I guess you don’t have a boyfriend?” “Nah. I wouldn’t be looking for one if I had one.” “Yeah, I guess that’s right. I don’t have one either.” We chatted about some of our interests. Jockboy told me he was into acting and liked to go and see plays. He also liked to read sometimes, and the Harry Potter books were his favorites. I asked if he was into sports, mainly because of his name. He told me he wasn’t, but he liked working out. That sounded promising. I was also glad he wasn’t a sports nut. That would’ve sucked. We talked for nearly an hour when Jockboy had to sign off. After he’d disappeared, I wished I’d asked his name, but thinking of him as Jockboy sure wasn’t a bad thing. My chest felt warm. Most of my life I’d felt like I had no hope of finding a boyfriend and now possibilities were popping up everywhere: Orlando, C.T., and now Jockboy. Surely, at least one of them would turn out to be the one. I went to bed with that happy thought swimming around in my head.
Mackenzie
“Your brother is such a loser,” said Billy, laughing hysterically, as he typed on the computer. We were chatting with Toby on Gay.com, but, of course, Toby had no idea it was us. I’d told Billy about the discoveries I made on our computer at home, and he came up with the excellent idea of screwing with Toby on the internet. I was so glad I’d kept my mouth shut about the catalogs I found in the closet and the internet history I uncovered on the computer. I nearly couldn’t resist the temptation to taunt Toby with my discoveries about his queerness, but this was far, far more fun. It was getting me in good with Billy, too. He smiled gleefully as he typed, and I have to admit I was grinning as well. This was the best prank I’d ever pulled on Toby—way better than the time I’d taped the legs of all his boxers together, or even the time I told him Becky Deville had a crush on him. The last one, I now knew, failed because Toby had no interest in girls, but it was still fun watching him get all nervous and worried that Becky might ask him out. “You get that description I gave him written down?” asked Billy. “We’ve gotta keep notes on what we tell him so we won’t make any mistakes.” I hadn’t written down anything, but I grabbed a pencil and began making notes. It had never entered my mind, but I guessed we did need to keep track of things in case Toby, a.k.a. Phantomboy16, asked questions. It would mess things up if we told him Jockboy was 6' one time and 5'10" another. Billy had come up with the screen name. He’d figured it would appeal to my brother. “He’s asking if I’m into sports,” said Billy. “What should I say?” I thought quickly. Toby hated sports. - 39 -
Mark A. Roeder
40
“Tell him no, but that you are into lifting weights. I don’t know if he’d like a sports guy, but I’m pretty sure he’s into muscles, if those Undergear catalogs of his mean anything.” “Damn, you’re good,” said Billy. “Partners in crime,” I said, and we did a high five. “I just told him I’m into acting. What else?” “Tell him you love reading Harry Potter. Those are his favorite books.” “What if he asks questions about them?” “No problem, we saw the first two movies, remember?” I reminded Billy. “We can just tell him we haven’t read the rest of them yet.” “Okay, cool. We just don’t want to give him anything to pin us down on— don’t want to get cornered with questions we can’t answer.” “I’m sure you can bullshit him, Billy.” Billy got up and took a bow. “Hey, we should cut off soon. We don’t want to tell him too much right off. Let’s make this last,” I said. “Yeah, we can have our little bit of fun with him whenever it suits us. Let’s wait a day or two before we get on again—make him wait.” “You’re evil, Billy. I love it!” We both laughed. Billy told Toby that Jockboy had to go. I was already thinking about how our newly found toy could be put to mischievous purposes. If we played this right, I could get a lifetime’s worth of material for tormenting Toby and he’d be none the wiser. This was way better than getting into his journal. I was willing to bet we could get him to tell us anything. Billy had a wicked gleam in his eye as he shut off the internet. We were alone in his room. He pounced on me and wrestled me down to the floor. “Wuss!” I growled and shoved against his right shoulder, pushing him off me. Billy had a few pounds on me and was a little taller, but I was just about as strong as he was. Billy worked his way on top of me again, after a rather successful headlock. He lay full length on top of me and ground his crotch into mine. “Oh, sick, dude!” I shouted. “I’m your brother,” he said giggling. “Dude, that is just too gross. Get off me!” Billy kept it up. “If you want to get up, you’ve gotta wrestle your way out.” I attacked, twisting and turning so fiercely I knocked Billy into his dresser, slamming it against the wall.
Mark A. Roeder
41
“What the hell are you two doing in there?” yelled Billy’s dad, just outside the door. “Just wrestling.” “Well, knock it off! I’m trying to watch TV!” We broke apart. Billy scowled at the door. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard him say “fucker” under his breath. I was shocked. I’d never say that to my dad, even in a whisper he couldn’t hear. Billy and I hung out for a while in his room. It was sparsely furnished. The computer, an old clunker with only a 200 MHz processor and a 50 MB hard drive was the nicest thing in the room. It had a “Property of Pike County School System” sticker on the side, and I wondered if it’d been stolen. The computer stood on an old scuffed, blond desk. In front of the desk sat a rickety chair. Billy’s bed was a single mattress and box springs that sat on concrete blocks. A scratched up dresser with rock group stickers half falling off it was the final piece of furniture in the room. Billy’s family was obviously poor, but he didn’t seem to care. We played an old Conquest of the Empire game on the floor for an hour, but I had to leave before we finished it. I wanted to beat Mom and Dad home. They weren’t too strict about me being out, but it was getting close to ten and I knew I’d better not push it. Billy shoved the game into the corner, saying we’d finish it later. I thought about Billy on the walk home. I didn’t think he had a mother. Well, he had one or he wouldn’t have been born, but there was no sign of her in Billy’s home. I wondered if she was dead or just somewhere else. She might’ve left Billy’s dad because he wasn’t too cool; at least that was my first impression of him. He barely acknowledged Billy when we entered, but he looked me over pretty good and it made me uncomfortable. He just sat there in a scruffy recliner, wearing an old, sleeveless undershirt, staring at me. As soon as Billy pulled me up the stairs to his room, his dad went back to watching TV. When I left, he was still in the same spot. If he hadn’t come upstairs to yell at us, I don’t think he’d ever have left his chair. Billy’s house was all rundown and dingy. The carpet in the living room was an orange and yellow shag that was stained and worn—a leftover from the 1970s. Mom would’ve tossed it out in a second. Their whole house had a dirty feel to it, like it was never cleaned. When Billy had taken me into the kitchen, there were old banana peels turning black on the table and empty cans of Sunkist Tuna sitting on the counter. Billy’s house smelled funny. Billy didn’t seem to mind his house, so I didn’t care either. It must’ve been cool to never have to clean his room. Of course, I never cleaned the room I shared
Mark A. Roeder
42
with Toby, either. He was a neatness fanatic and freaked out if I left underwear or socks on the floor. He’d learned long ago not to badger me about picking things up. I ignored him when he did. He whined about it some, but he ended up cleaning it all up himself. It was kinda like having a maid. Mom and Dad weren’t back yet when I got home, so I was safe. Toby seemed cheerful. I almost wanted to laugh when I looked at him. He was such a queer.
Orlando
I was itching for a day off. It’s not that I didn’t like working at Phantom World; quite the opposite really. I was dying to get on the roller coasters and the water rides. I could hear the distant rumble of The Poltergeist as I neared The Graymoor Mansion. It was as if it were calling to me, beckoning me to risk life and limb on its steep inclines and sharply banked curves. Roller coasters scared the crap out of me, but I loved them just the same. I’d ridden The Raven and The Legend at Holiday World plenty of times and each ride was as thrilling as the first. The Raven sometimes felt as if it were coming right up off the track, which never failed to make me think my insides were crawling up my throat. The Legend had two or three “head-choppers,” places where it passed through a tunnel or under a walkway. I couldn’t help but duck, even though I’d been under them several times. Whenever I got off either of the roller coasters, my heart pounded and I felt as if I’d been running. It was awesome! I wondered what The Poltergeist and The Twister had to offer. As I walked up the steep incline toward The Graymoor Mansion, I could hear moans and ghastly screams coming from inside. The haunted mansion was another ride I couldn’t wait to experience for myself. It had little two-man cars that rode on a track, passing through the mansion and coming outside sometimes. I could only guess at what waited inside. My heart beat a little faster as I squeezed past the guests toward the head of the line. Krista was standing there in the darkness, illuminated only by light from flickering torches and a huge chandelier overhead, ablaze with candles. The can-
- 43 -
Mark A. Roeder
44
dle and torchlight complemented her soft beauty. I wanted to just walk right up and kiss her, but instead, I just said hi. Toby was there, too. We’d become quite the trio. We didn’t work together on every ride, but we were together as often as not, and it pleased me. I wanted to be near Krista as much as possible, and Toby was a load of fun. He was forever laughing and talking with us and the guests. I smiled whenever I spoke to Krista or just looked at her. I couldn’t help it. She was beautiful. Her blonde hair just drew me right to her. I must’ve thought about kissing her a hundred times a day. It was too soon to try that, but I had been working up to asking her out. I’d promised myself that today was the day. All three of us were working The Graymoor Mansion until our lunchtime of 1:30. Our shift together started at 11:45, but I couldn’t find the courage to ask Krista out. I tried to force myself to ask her a few times, but I got tongue-tied or just plain chickened out. I was frustrated with myself. What was the big deal? The worst she could do was say no. I thought I just might die if she did that, however. Had anyone ever keeled over from rejection? I was so preoccupied that the screams from the haunted mansion made me jump once or twice. I felt foolish, but no one seemed to notice. We kept pretty busy helping guests on and off the ride. The cars never did quite stop; they just moved along slowly and the guests hopped in as the cars passed. Once in a while, we did stop the cars for a moment for those who had trouble getting in or out. We had to do that for a lady in a wheelchair. Phantom World was really cool, because every bit of it was handicapped accessible. If someone in a wheelchair or crutches wanted to ride on one of the roller coasters or other rides, it was no problem. About the only people that couldn’t ride on certain things were kids who were too short, and that was for safety reasons. Lunchtime came before I’d worked up the courage to ask Krista out. The three of us went to the seafood booth and had crab cakes for lunch. It wasn’t exactly Red Lobster, but then again, it didn’t cost an arm and a leg either. I was pleased I’d been keeping well within the $10 a day we were allowed for food. Toby was goofing around. He made both Krista and me laugh, but, for the moment, I wished he wasn’t there. I was nervous enough as it was without him to watch me. Finally, I took the plunge. “Krista, I was wondering…it’s okay if you’re not interested, but I was thinking that, maybe, we could, like, go out and eat sometime…like now…only…ah, man. Will you go out with me?”
Mark A. Roeder
45
Krista grinned and I think she was trying to keep from laughing, but I wasn’t sure. I know my face turned red and I felt like an inept fool—that is, until she said, “Yes, I’d love to go.” “You would? Really? Tonight? I mean…great!” I hoped the grin on my face wasn’t too goofy. “Then I’ll meet you when you get off. Okay?” “Sure. That would be great,” she replied, with a very cute smile. Toby frowned at me. A look of disappointment and what could’ve been anger crossed his face, but he quickly recovered. He said he had to talk to personnel about something and ran off. Did he have an interest in Krista? I’d been worried about getting to her before some other guy did, but did I cut off Toby? I hoped he didn’t have feelings for her. We’d become quite a little trio and I didn’t want anything messing that up. Still, I couldn’t help but be happy. Krista had said yes! ✶
✶
✶
✶
Krista got off work at 6:30 and I got off about 5:30, so I changed into my street clothes and headed straight for The Poltergeist. I’d been planning to ride it after work even if Krista didn’t want to go out. It was my first opportunity to do so. The line was a bit long, but not too bad. Standing in the line like everyone else gave me a weird sensation. I didn’t mind. At last I could ride The Poltergeist! I recognized C.T., who’d worked with me on the Scrambler that morning, but I didn’t know the other guy and girl who were working. C.T. gave me a smile as he checked the bar holding me and the girl beside me in place. She grinned at C.T. nervously, looking much as I felt. My stomach was a bit queasy. Once the bars were in place, the coaster inched forward, took a sharp turn to the right, and then began climbing a long, steep incline. The “chink, chink, chink” of the coaster being pulled upward, going higher and higher, made my heart race. I felt the sense of panic I always got when beginning the initial ascent. This was the part where I wished I hadn’t gotten on in the first place, where I wished I could somehow magically find myself back safe on the ground. The coaster crested just before the track took a steeply banked turn to the right and aimed almost straight down. The Poltergeist moved so fast from that point on I hardly knew which way was up, let alone right and left. I knew it was supposed to go up to 70 miles per hour, but it felt like we were doing 150. The twists and turns were amazing. My whole body shifted one way and then another, my inertia making my body go in one direction while the coaster had already switched to a different one. I raised my arms into the air and screamed my head off.
Mark A. Roeder
46
Phantom World shot by in a blur as we zipped around curves, shot down inclines, and popped over the top of rises. My world was one of quick snapshots—water, which must’ve been the lake, food booths, train tracks, the sky and the ground. It was all rushing by so fast it was as if I were caught in a kaleidoscope. At the end, we slammed up a short incline, and the coaster braked hard. I jerked forward, then back. What a rush! I was giddy with excitement as I walked away from The Poltergeist. I still had a few minutes before my date with Krista, so I walked around, trying to think of clever things to say. All the stuff I came up with just sounded stupid, so I decided I’d try and be myself. We’d already gotten to know each other pretty well, so there was no use in trying to be someone I wasn’t. I’d just come off looking like a moron if I tried to be all cool. It would be better for her to discover up front I was a nerd at heart than to find out later. If I was going to be rejected, I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Just a little after 6:30, Krista came out of the employee locker rooms wearing her black Phantom World shorts with a pale yellow blouse. I thought about suggesting we take a ride on the Water Demon so I could have a shot at seeing through her shirt, but I pushed that out of my mind. Krista was a real girl, not a fantasy. I had to train myself not to think like a sex-starved teenager. “So, where do you feel like eating supper?” We’d already decided to have our date in the park, since Krista was saving up money for Veterinarian school and I was helping out Mom with the bills. Food here was cheap and neither of us had been able to enjoy the park as guests yet. “I’m kind of in the mood for a hot dog. How about you?” “Mmm, that sounds good; maybe a chili dog even.” I wondered if a chili dog was a good idea after I’d mentioned it. If I kissed her…Yeah, right Orlando. Like you’re gonna get that far tonight. We ordered our food and took a seat on a bench facing the Splashing Specter. It was like a regular coaster, but instead of cars, there were these big boat-like things that held six people. They rode the tracks of the coaster just like the cars on The Twister, but then they splashed into a channel of water and it was kind of like a raft ride until it climbed up the tracks again. I wanted to ride it for sure. I smiled at Krista shyly as we ate our hot dogs and talked. I opted to go ahead and get the chili dog, with onions no less. I didn’t want to rush things. Okay, I did want to rush them, but I knew it would be better if I didn’t. Krista smeared a little mustard on her upper lip and I reached out and wiped it off. “This place is oddly beautiful,” said Krista. “The theme is spooky, but it’s still pretty. I like the way they left in the real trees when they put in the creepy ones.”
Mark A. Roeder
47
“Yeah, it’s an odd mix of the macabre and the beautiful, but it works. Hey, that sounds like a soap opera, The Macabre and the Beautiful.” Krista laughed. We sat there admiring our surroundings. Just to our right, across the path, was a little cemetery. It looked real enough I’d be afraid to walk in it after dark. Just on its edge, close to us, was a giant skull. Its eyes glowed red every few seconds and it uttered a cackling laugh. There were lots of people walking by, eating cotton candy, wearing funny hats and having a blast. It was cool to work in a place where people came to be happy and it was sure nice to be sitting there with Krista while we weren’t working. “Did you see all the flowerbeds near the main entrance?” asked Krista. “Yeah, I love the scent when I walk by there, carnations and roses and all the rest.” “Wow, I never knew a guy who could identify flowers.” I tensed up, but relaxed when I realized it wasn’t some kind of insult. “I dunno. I’ve always enjoyed flowers. They make me feel kind of peaceful. They’re so beautiful and smell so good. You smell really good, too,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound corny. “Thanks.” “Hey, did you know there’s one old guy who oversees all the flowers and landscaping. He’s about eighty, and he spends his whole day tending the flowers and plants here. I’ve talked to him. His name is Mr. Meadows. He’s the sweetest old man I’ve ever met. You want to meet him?” It wasn’t quite what I’d planned for our first date, but I said, “Sure, why not?” Anything to please you, babe. We finished our supper and went in search of Mr. Meadows. We found him weeding a raised bed of pink flowers, the kind that Mom sometimes had in pots on the front porch. Strings of white lights overhead provided plenty of illumination for weeding, even though night was coming. “Hello, Mr. Meadows.” “Krista! I’m delighted to see you.” The old man smiled. He had the kindest face with all these little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “This is my friend, Orlando.” “Nice to meet you, young man,” said Mr. Meadows, shaking my hand. He had quite a grip for an old guy. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, sir.” I smiled at him. It was nearly impossible not to do so. He gave off an aura of friendliness and kindness. “What are those?” I asked, pointing to the pink flowers he was tending. “Geraniums.”
Mark A. Roeder
48
“Oh, yes, that’s right,” I said. “My Mom has a couple of those, but they aren’t nearly as big or beautiful as these.” “They probably need a little plant food. I’ll get you some to take home.” “Oh, that’s very kind of you, but you don’t have to bother.” “It’s no bother. I need to be feeding the sweet peas up there anyway,” he said, pointing up the path. We followed Mr. Meadows across the park, nearly to the northern edge and he led us through a gate that had a sign reading “Employees Only” on it. There was a massive greenhouse just beyond the fence. It was visible over the fence from the public part of the park, but I’d never noticed it before. Of course, there were likely many things I hadn’t noticed yet. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” said Mr. Meadows as he led us inside. The atmosphere was warm and humid and the scent of flowers and earth hung heavy in the air. There were several long, low tables filled with trays and potted plants of all types and sizes. There were tiny seedlings, just barely peaking out of the soil, dozens upon dozens of growing plants, and huge tropical looking plants that made parts of the greenhouse look like a jungle. There were flowers everywhere, in bright yellows, reds, blues, purples, pinks and every other color and shade imaginable. “She sure is beautiful,” I said. “I had no idea this was here.” “Oh yes, been here for years. I was just starting when they built it in the 40s.” “You’ve worked here all that time?” I asked. “Yes, it’ll be sixty years next month.” “Do you do all the planting in the park by yourself?” I asked. It seemed impossible. “Yes, I tend all the plants. Maintenance does help me move some of the larger ones. Some of the potted trees, such as the orange trees, weigh a few hundred pounds, including the soil. They have to be kept indoors in the winter.” I looked around. I loved the greenhouse. Being surrounded by all the flowers and breathing in the moist, pleasantly scented air made me feel like I was in some kind of paradise. Mr. Meadows gazed at me approvingly. “Do you have time to show us around some more?” asked Krista. “Certainly, my dear.” We spent most of the next hour in the greenhouse, Mr. Meadows proudly showing off his work. Everywhere we looked there was something beautiful to see. I especially liked all the different colors of roses that Mr. Meadows was growing. The reds and pinks were beautiful, but I liked the ones with yellow tinted with pink at the edges the best.
Mark A. Roeder
49
After a while, I looked down and realized I was holding Krista’s hand. I couldn’t remember when I’d taken her hand in mine, but it was there. A happy feeling welled up in my chest. “You’re like an artist, but with living plants instead of paints and canvas,” I said after a long while. Mr. Meadows was showing us his collection of cacti and succulents. “I don’t know about that. Mother Nature takes care of most of it,” said Mr. Meadows, but I could tell he was pleased I admired his work. As we left, Mr. Meadows gave me a bag of plant food for my mother. He said it was a special blend he mixed himself. Krista wandered outside as I listened carefully to his instructions. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, Mr. Meadows cut a long stemmed rose for me, one of the yellow ones with pink I’d been admiring. “I thought you might like to give this to Krista,” he said. “You come and visit me any time you want, son.” I smiled and thanked him for everything. Back outside, I handed Krista the rose. She smiled sweetly and kissed me on the cheek. I thought I just might explode with happiness. ✶
✶
✶
✶
I answered the knock at the front door, fearing it was Gene again. I didn’t know if I could face another supper with him and Mom. “Hey, dude, let’s go somewhere.” It was Eddie. I yelled to Mom I was going out and followed Eddie to his car, a broken down ’79 Cutlass Supreme that still ran most of the time, despite having over 200,000 miles on it. That old car had taken us on lots of adventures. The somewhere we were going turned out to be The Grove, the local make-out spot, also used by those like Eddie who came there to smoke pot. Eddie parked the car in the clearing and got out. He hopped up on the hood and pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit up. He sucked in, held in the sweet smelling smoke, and then blew it out in my direction. I was a big, second-hand pot smoker. That’s what Eddie said anyway. He was right. Every time he smoked, I ended up with a little buzz without even trying. “You think I’m good lookin’, Orlando?” “Why, you want me to ask you out or something?” “No, fag, just…I’ve been hanging with Beth Harkins and, like, I wanna ask her out, but I don’t know if I should.”
Mark A. Roeder
50
“Beth, huh? It looks like both of us may have found someone.” I proceeded to tell Eddie all about Krista. “She sounds hot, man, but, back to my question.” I looked Eddie over. He was just a bit shorter than I was: slim, with long, dark blond hair he wore in a pony-tail. He wasn’t built or cute, but I guessed I could see where a girl might go for him. He wasn’t ugly and I guess he did have kinda cool eyes. “Yeah, you’re kind of good looking, in a way. I doubt Beth would kick you out of bed. If you smiled more it would help.” Eddie tried a grin on for size. “Yeah, that’s it, give her a smile. It’ll work.” He looked almost cute when he grinned. “She drives me crazy, man. You know I haven’t had any since Tara moved away.” “Well, at least you’ve had some.” “You poor little virgin,” said Eddie. “Shut up!” Eddie laughed. “Come on, let’s drive around.” I thought about mentioning he might have more of a chance at Beth if he got some clothes that didn’t look quite so…used. I knew he didn’t have much money, though, even less than I did. Besides, if she was going to like him, she needed to like the real Eddie, not some fake. “How you like working at Marathon?” I asked. “It’s okay. I tried to get a job at Edna’s, but she wanted me to cut my hair and I said ‘No way!’” Eddie had a thing about his hair. He always wore it long and usually in a ponytail. Sometimes at school, when he got pissed off, he’d undo his ponytail and let his hair completely cover his face. He could sit there in class and kinda wall himself off from the world. It was like he carried around his own privacy screen all the time. I thought his hair was cool, but that he needed to wash it more often. Sometimes, he let it go a few days without shampooing and it looked a little oily. I didn’t say anything, though, because, well, what did it matter? We cruised around for quite a while. It was tradition. Eddie and I had some of our best talks while just driving around. Most of our talks weren’t serious, but you didn’t have to be discussing something earth shattering for it to matter. I grinned. “What?” asked Eddie, as if I was laughing at him.
Mark A. Roeder
51
“I was just thinking about all the stuff we’ve talked about: our deep discussions on the nature of time, the philosophy of auto mechanics, and whether McDonalds or Burger King has the best burgers.” “The Whopper kicks the Big Mac’s ass, man!” said Eddie loudly, drumming on his steering wheel for emphasis. “Although Wendy’s has those 99 cent bacon cheese burgers. It’s hard to beat that.” “You’re comparing one of those little burgers with Big Macs and Whoppers?” “Hey, they’re 99 cents. Yeah, they’re smaller, but they’re like half the price of the others.” “Okay, who has the best ice cream?” “Dairy Queen, hands down, although the crew they’ve got working in there now is sooo slow. I thought my hair was gonna turn gray before I got my shake the last time I was in there.” I laughed. “Yeah, someone should take it over and start a new advertising campaign: ‘Now Introducing Same Day Service’.” “Yeah man, right now they have three speeds—slow, very slow, and stop.” Eddie began laughing. Sometimes he cracked himself up. The thing was his laugh was so infectious I always ended up laughing too. We drove by Phantom World. I could see the tops of the roller coasters in the distance. “How you like working there?” asked Eddie. “I love it.” “Do you really love it or do you just think you do because that babe you were telling me about works there too?” “Both.” “So, have you met that pop-star guy who owns the place?” asked Eddie. He began to sing, “Mmmbop do do do mmmbop.” “That’s Hanson, dufus. Jordan’s with Phantom and, no, I haven’t met him. I don’t know if I ever will. It’s not like he’s going to just be hanging around the park.” “Well, hell, I would if I owned it.” “Yeah, well, you don’t have anything better to do.” Eddie just shook his head and laughed. “That’s the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it!” We cruised around some more and then Eddie took me home. As I got out of the car, I thought about what’d gone through my mind earlier. Maybe I shouldn’t keep my mouth shut, if speaking up would help Eddie. I stuck my head
Mark A. Roeder
52
back in the window and said, “Before you ask Beth out, you should shampoo your hair. You’ve got really cool hair, but girls will like it better if it’s all clean.” “Gotcha,” said Eddie and took off.
Toby
I lay on the couch, resting my feet from a not-so-hard day at work. My legs had an almost pleasant ache in them and I felt a little sleepy. I was watching Designing Women on Lifetime. Television for women. Did they have to say that during every commercial break? Anyway, Suzanne always cracks me up, like when she says, “If history is going to repeat itself, then why should I pay attention the first time?” And then there’s Charlene, who reminds me of my cousin Stacey, only I’d never tell Stacey that, ’cause she might get mad. Not that there’s anything wrong with Charlene; I love her. I get a kick out of how she talks about her family back home in hick country, which could almost be where I live. It seems the same anyway, even though I’m in Indiana, instead of Missouri or Arkansas or wherever she’s from. Bernice cracks me up too, like the time she wore a Christmas-tree skirt for a real skirt. And then Mary Jo tells her it’s a Christmas-tree skirt and Bernice says, “Well, no wonder. I like to never got this thing on.” I ’bout fell off the couch the first time I saw that. A commercial came on for Kotex Tampons, driving me temporarily out of the room and toward the kitchen. I grabbed an Almond Snickers and thought about my new job. Working at Phantom World wasn’t all fun and games, but I found myself looking forward to work. I was making a lot of money, too, more than I ever had before. That was just the icing on the cake. I was bummed out about Orlando. He was way cute and I’d been thinking he’d make a good boyfriend, but he was getting real chummy with Krista. Not only that, he’d asked her out on a date and she’d said yes. Maybe it was just a friend-type date, but there was something in his eyes as he looked at Krista—and - 53 -
Mark A. Roeder
54
especially when she’d given him her answer. I don’t think he would’ve been that pleased if he was asking her out as a friend. Maybe he was gay and was just trying to cover up. That was a possibility, but I felt like I was grasping at straws when I considered it. There were other fish in the sea, but I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Orlando was sooo cute. He was real nice, too. I guessed I’d have to give up fantasizing about us walking and holding hands and hugging and making out. I sighed. Why couldn’t life be like TV, where everything worked out? Then again, gay boys got their butts kicked on TV a lot, so maybe I was just as well off with reality. I thought about the boy I met online. I couldn’t believe he was into Phantom like I was. Well, he wasn’t as big a fan as I, but he liked ’em and that was something. Most of the boys at school didn’t; at least they said they didn’t. I’d even seen a couple of Phantom Sucks t-shirts on guys from school. I wondered if some of the other boys secretly listened to them. Since Jordan was out, I think a lot of guys were kinda afraid to let anyone know they were into Phantom. It was like they feared others would think they were gay if they admitted to liking their music too much. I didn’t exactly go around announcing it myself, but all anyone had to do is ask and I’d tell ’em that Phantom rocked! I even had a picture of the Jordan, Kieran and Ross taped to the back of my locker. I’d ripped it from Rolling Stone when they were on the cover. I wondered what Jockboy looked like. He’d described himself, but height, weight and hair color only told me so much. It didn’t tell me anything about his face. I hoped he was good lookin’, although if he was cool that wouldn’t matter so much. I’d be happy with an ordinary, nice guy for a boyfriend, especially if he was a good kisser. He didn’t have to be hot—not that I’d turn down a hot guy if I got a chance at one. Thinking of hot guys brought me back to thinking about Orlando again. I didn’t want to think about him anymore. It was depressing me. I returned to the TV, but Designing Women was over. Golden Girls was on, but I’d already seen that episode about a hundred times, so I walked over to the computer and got on the internet to distract myself. Mackenzie was gone, probably terrorizing the neighborhood with his new friend, Billy. Now there was a match made in hell. Mom and Dad were home, but Dad was in the kitchen working on something for the office and Mom was doing the laundry. They weren’t too nosy about what I did on the internet anyway. Unless they actually walked behind the desk and sat beside me, they couldn’t tell what I was doing. If they made for the computer, I could just shut the browser. I always made sure I had a browser open to eBay or some Phantom site or something when I was chatting on Gay.com, or checking
Mark A. Roeder
55
out shirtless guys in a Yahoo group. That way, I could close the gay sites fast and make it look like I was just innocently surfing. Jockboy wasn’t on when I got into the Indiana room, but he showed up about twenty minutes later. I was pleased when he pvt’ed me before I had a chance to send him a message. “Hiya, what’s up?” “I just got on here looking for you,” I typed. “Cool.” “Hey, what’s your name? I never asked.” There was a long pause. “I don’t like givin’ out my real name on here, but sometimes my friends call me Spike, ’cause of my hair.” “I’m Toby,” I typed. I considered giving Spike a different name, but I didn’t have a nickname like he did. “Cool name.” “Thanks.” “You have a pic of you, Toby?” “Um, no, but maybe I can get one. You have one of you?” “Yeah, but I’m a little scared about sending it, until I’m more sure, you know? When you get one and send it to me, I’ll send you back mine. Okay?” “I guess that’s okay.” “Don’t get mad. It’s just that I don’t want any of the guys at school to, you know, find out about me.” “It’s cool.” Actually, I was kind of glad he was hesitant to send his picture. There were all kinds of fakes on the internet, and his reluctance made me feel more confident he was the real thing. “Sweet. So, um, have you ever done anything with a guy?” asked Spike. “Nope. You?” “Not yet. It’s kinda hard, you know?” “Tell me about it!” Spike and I kept chatting. His nickname didn’t seem to fit him all that well. He just didn’t seem like a Spike to me. Of course, he said it was because of his hair, so if I saw a picture of him, it would probably make sense. I was thinking about taking a photo of myself to send him soon. Dad had a digital camera. I was a little scared about sending out a picture of me. I’d never done it before. Spike seemed pretty cool, though. I didn’t think he was some ax murderer or anything
Mark A. Roeder
56
like that. Besides, I was eager to see what Spike looked like, and sending him my pic was the only way to get his in return. A thought crossed my mind—dark spiky hair. From the description, Spike sounded almost like Orlando. Wouldn’t that be a shock? The odds were not good on that one, though, especially after what I’d seen when Krista said she’d go out with him. Still, you never know. It made me more eager than ever to get a look at Spike. I looked up at the clock when we’d been chatting for what seemed like twenty minutes and it was nearly midnight. I’d been talking to Spike for almost two hours “Damn, I’ve gotta go!” I typed. “Awww. Okay,” typed Spike. “Hey, can I have your e-mail? We can set up a time to chat soon, or just write each other.” I smiled and exchanged e-mail addresses with Spike. Things weren’t working out so well with Orlando, but I liked where they were going with Spike. I was excited by the possibilities. ✶
✶
✶
✶
I began my morning at Phantom World with a shift on the Ghost Pirates raft ride with C.T. It was a pretty simple job. Mainly, we just loaded people on four at a time and made sure no one was goofing around. I really liked C.T. The way his straight, blond bangs were always falling down in his eyes was so sexy. Compared to Orlando and to the way I’d pictured Spike, he wasn’t very built. He had some muscle, but he had this soft look to him—almost girlish in a way, but yet not really. He wasn’t fat or skinny, just somewhere in between. He reminded me a little of a teddy bear. I wanted to hug him. C.T. and I were getting along pretty well. He hadn’t spoken much the first time we’d worked together or the few times our paths had crossed since then, but he was beginning to open up. His voice was velvety—soft and quiet, so that I had to listen carefully when he spoke. He smiled shyly as he talked, often lowering his eyes. I wondered if he knew how incredibly cute and cuddly that made him appear. When he lowered his eyes like that, and then looked back up at me, it just kinda made me melt. It was funny how he managed to look up at me, since he was taller. I guess it was the way he held his head when he did it, kind of tucked in toward his chest or shoulder. When he looked at me like that, it made me want to protect him. I wanted to hold him and comfort him when he cried, although I’d never seen him cry. C.T. was about the happiest person I’d ever come across.
Mark A. Roeder
57
C.T. livened up when I told him I was into theatre. I soon learned I was an amateur in comparison to him. C.T. had seen about every Broadway show there ever was, apparently. That’s what he spent his money on, going to shows when they came to Evansville or Indianapolis. He’d even been to Broadway itself with his mother. They’d seen The Lion King and three or four others while they were in New York. “Wow,” I said. “I haven’t seen that many shows. Mom let me see Rent when it came to Louisville. She dropped me off and went shopping.” “Oh, that’s a great show! I saw it in Louisville, too. There was only one show so we must’ve been there at the same time.” “Aw, I wish I’d have known you then. It would’ve been a lot more fun going with you instead of sitting there by myself.” “Maybe we can go to a show sometime. We’ll have to see what’s coming up.” “Really?” I asked, with far too much enthusiasm. I quickly toned it down. “I mean, cool.” C.T. grinned at me. I gazed at his full lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them. I had to snap myself out of it before he caught me staring. We kept up a running conversation with each other and with people waiting in line. One of the things I liked about working at Phantom World was that most people were really nice. They could get a bit impatient or surly if the lines were long, but mostly they were friendly. They were in an amusement park after all. I guess working at Phantom World was kind of the opposite of working at the Department of Motor Vehicles or someplace like that. The park was all about fun. C.T. and I looked out over the ride as we talked. From our vantage point, we could see a good deal of it. The log rafts followed a stream that was just a little wider than they were. The stream twisted and turned, going slowly under gnarled trees, past bubbling springs of mud, giant spiders that threateningly reared up and other spooky stuff. I liked the pirate’s hideout—an old ramshackle house that looked as if pirates could come running out of it at any second. My favorite part of the ride was the big pirate ship that sat off to one side of the stream. It was full-sized and looked seaworthy. It had a giant skull and crossbones sail. Pirate music was playing the whole time, making me feel as if I was half in and half out of some distant time. The entrance to the ride was like a portal that transported guests into the past. Ghost Pirates was another ride I definitely wanted to check out when I had some free time. “Have you been in many shows?” I asked C.T.
Mark A. Roeder
58
He rattled off an impressive list of them. I hadn’t been in nearly that many and most of parts I’d had were just in plays, not musicals, except for a couple. “I had the lead in Oliver in the spring play at school and I played Tom in the musical version of Tom Sawyer last fall,” I said. “I bet you made a good Tom,” said C.T. “I was okay.” “You even look a little like Tom Sawyer.” “Thanks, I think.” “It’s a compliment. You have sort of an innocent, yet mischievous look to you.” “Mischievous? Me?” Mackenzie had been described that way more times than I could count. But me? “Yeah, you’ve got a kind of fire inside that shows through your eyes.” No one had ever seen that within me. I wasn’t so sure it was there, but I liked C.T. saying it was, anyway. I liked a lot of things about C.T.
Mackenzie
I didn’t say anything as Billy and I stood on the shoulder of the highway, but I was thinking: Billy, I don’t know about this. I knew what he’d say: Dude, chill, no one’s gonna know. It’ll be fun. Don’t be a wuss. Your family’s already got one of those. A small laugh escaped from my lips. Billy eyed me, but didn’t ask what I was laughing about. “What if some wacko picks us up—some child molester or killer or something?” I asked, knowing I should’ve probably kept that question in my head, too. I couldn’t help myself, though. Billy had his thumb out, trying to hitch us a ride out of “Hicksville” to Evansville. “Dude, you’ve been watchin’ too many after school specials. Only, like, one out of a hundred people is a killer, or somethin’ like that. You worry too much.” Yeah, but what if the one out of a hundred is the one who gives us a ride, I thought to myself. I tried not to say certain things out loud to Billy. I didn’t want him to think of me as some scared little kid. We were the same age, but he knew things about the world. He’d been out there. He’d even run away once, all the way to Florida, when he was fourteen, just the year before. At least that’s what he said. I figured it was true because I remembered him being missing from school for three whole weeks. That was probably when he went south. “What if my parents find out?” I said, forgetting to keep the question in my head. “They’ll never know. They think you’re at my house. Dad never answers the phone in case it’s bill collectors. Just chill and enjoy, Mackenzie. We’re gonna have a good time.” - 59 -
Mark A. Roeder
60
I smiled. Being with Billy was an adventure. I was quickly learning to just follow along. Billy liked to lead, and, so far, I’d liked where he’d led me. I wished I’d tried to become friends with him before. I remembered when I first saw him at school; we were both thirteen, but even then he seemed much older. One look at him told me he was a bad ass—scuffed black leather jacket, rumpled t-shirt, worn jeans and just about worn-out sneakers. Billy had a look that just screamed, What are you lookin’ at? I don’t give a fuck what you think! The moment I set eyes on him I knew I wanted him as a friend. Billy was cool. I wanted to be like him. Unfortunately, it had taken me two whole years to work up the courage to approach him. An old, beat-up van slowed and then pulled over to the side of the road in a cloud of dust. Billy ran up to the passenger side and yanked open the door. Billy always charged right in without any thought for his own safety. “We’re going to Evansville,” he said, almost as if it were a command. I hadn’t caught up enough to hear what the driver said, but Billy hopped in and then pulled me in after him. I shut the door and the van took off. I reached for the seatbelt, but thought better of it. Instead, I looked at the driver and immediately wished I hadn’t. He was old—probably mid-30s. His face was scarred like he’d had bad acne when he was a kid. He was thin and, if he’d had an eye patch, he would’ve made a good pirate. I was glad Billy was sitting between us. “So you boys are heading out for the big city, huh?” “It’s not a big city, more like a town. Indy’s a city, barely. New York’s a big city.” The driver looked at Billy out of the corner of his eye. I wished Billy would be more agreeable. I was afraid the driver would kick us out. Then again, maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. I was so nervous I was trembling. “I’m Evan,” said Billy, “Evan McCloud and this is my friend Irving.” Irving? Couldn’t he pick a better name than that? I did admire his ability to lie so easily and convincingly. “I’m Bob,” said the driver. Billy seemed completely at ease, but I was a little freaked out. All these horrible fantasies kept entering my head—Bob driving us to some remote area and then stabbing us to death with a rusty knife, Bob forcing us into the back of the van and then raping us, Bob ramming the van into a telephone pole full speed to kill us all, Bob dining on our livers later that night. I was glad Billy was there. I felt at least a little safer with him.
Mark A. Roeder
61
I didn’t like the way Bob looked at me, like he was hungry or something. Maybe he’s like Hannibal Lector, I thought, or maybe it’s a different kind of hungry. I felt a little sick. I wanted out of the van, but was too afraid to say so. I didn’t want Billy to think I was a wuss, and I half-feared that Bob would just laugh and keep on driving if I asked him to let me out. That would’ve been much worse than just thinking he wouldn’t let us go. The miles passed with Billy, a.k.a. Evan, talking with Bob. I sat there quietly, only half-hearing what they were saying. Now and then scraps of their conversation made it into my head: The Kentucky basketball team cheated their way to victory over I.U., the entire Middle East should be nuked, the tax on cigarettes was unconstitutional. Most of their words didn’t make it through the haze of excitement and fear that surrounded me, but the next ones out of Billy’s mouth sure did. “Dude, you can move your fuckin’ hand or I can break your wrist.” I jerked my head to the side at Billy’s words. Bob had his hand on Billy’s inner thigh, halfway toward his crotch. Billy was staring him down, looking as if he’d fuck him up if he made a wrong move. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” laughed Bob. “I picked it up from my dad. He’s a cop,” said Billy. A flicker of fear passed over Bob’s features. Billy was slick. I was safer when I was with him. He knew how to handle things. Bob removed his hand from Billy’s thigh, and they went back to talking like nothing at all had happened. I swallowed hard and looked out the window, watching the scenery pass. Bob drove us through most of Evansville and then let us out downtown on the riverfront. We strolled along the walkway, looking out at the muddy water of the Ohio. A tugboat was pushing barges upstream and a few motorboats were speeding along. Someone was even water skiing. The sky was clear and the sun hot. Billy pulled off his shirt and I followed his example. We skipped rocks over the surface of the water and explored the walkway. We walked past the Casino Aztar, a big gambling boat that sometimes went out on the river. There was a steady stream of people crossing an enclosed walkway that went across the highway into the casino building—people with more money than sense, people who thought they’d actually make money gambling. I didn’t even care that we weren’t old enough to get in. I wasn’t going to poke my money in some stupid machine, unless it was to play a video game. We walked on, down past the museum. There was an old train on display outside. It looked like the kind of thing Toby would like. My brother was such an alien. I marveled that we had the same parents. I wondered if he’d been secretly
Mark A. Roeder
62
adopted or something before I was born, or maybe it was me who was adopted. Maybe I was really Billy’s brother and just didn’t know it. That would’ve been cool, except I didn’t like his dad. He was scary. “Your dad’s not really a cop, right?” I asked. “No,” said Billy laughing. “I just told that creep that to get him off me.” “I thought so. That was a smart move.” “You just gotta know how to handle people. Dad taught me that.” “I think I’d have crapped my pants if he’d put his hand on my leg.” “Yeah, well, if you act scared in a situation like that, you’re screwed, but if you act tough, you’re way more likely to get out of it.” “Has that kind of thing happened to you before?” “Yeah. Not often, though. I hitchhike, and most people who give you a ride are just bein’ nice. Like I said, only like one in a hundred are freaks or whatever. This one lady gave me a ride and she put her hand on my leg, too.” “What’d you do?” “I spread ’em wider so she could have a feel!” “Really?” “Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya, man.” I laughed and Billy did, too. Sometimes, I wasn’t quite sure when to take him seriously. Billy and I found a grassy spot and lay basking in the sun. I liked hanging out with Billy. He was a real guy’s guy. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and he didn’t give a damn about what others thought or about the consequences. I wished I could be as carefree as he is. He lay beside me just watching boats pass, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I, on the other hand, was worried about whether or not we’d be able to find a ride home, if my parents would find out what I’d done and what they’d do to me if they did find out. I closed my eyes and tried to be like Billy. I tried to clear my thoughts and just feel the breeze on my face and the sun on my bare chest. I managed to daydream about Billy and me living free from school, parents, and all the other crap of everyday life. Perhaps we’d live on an island somewhere or in a remote wilderness where no one else dared to walk. We’d spend our days hunting, fishing, wrestling, swimming and just doing what we damn well pleased. “You ever think about just running away?” I asked. “Yeah,” said Billy. “I plan on it someday. If the old man gets too rough, I’ll split. If it’s cold, I’ll head out for Florida or California or someplace warm like that.”
Mark A. Roeder
63
“How would you live? How would you get money for food and stuff like that?” “Do some odd jobs—just work my way from one place to another, or there’s always…” Billy made a motion as if to unbutton his jeans. I swallowed hard. “You’d really do that, sell your body?” Billy laughed. “I’m just kiddin’ you, man. That’d be just too gross. Now, if a girl like Becky Wayne wanted to pay me…” Billy rubbed his crotch, which seemed to be getting bigger. He kept it up for a bit and then stopped, as if just realizing I was there. “Maybe you should try paying her,” I said, giggling. Billy punched me in the shoulder. It actually hurt a little, but I didn’t let on. “Come on,” he said, getting up. We strolled along the sidewalk. Well, I strolled, Billy kinda strutted. He had excess attitude, but that was one thing that was so cool about him. A couple of middle-aged women were approaching us and kind of looking us over. Billy flexed his muscles and said, “Yeah! You want some, don’t ya?” They hurried on past us. “I bet they did,” said Billy, looking back. “Did you see them look at us?” “Yeah, but they were old.” “They weren’t that old. Besides, I hear the older ones are good. They get kind of desperate after a certain age.” I shrugged. I had no idea. “Man, it’s so freaky your brother is queer. He ever check you out or anything?” “No.” “Well, I’d watch myself if I were you. You never know about someone like that. You could wake up with somethin’ sticking in your butt.” “Eww, don’t say that!” “Well, it’s good he’s a homo in one way.” “How?” “Well, you’ve got four people in your family right?” “Yep.” “So, only one out of ten is queer, so I don’t have to have any worries about you. You’re family’s already 25% queer, so there’s no way you can be queer, too. I don’t have to worry about you trying to touch my ass or something.” I laughed. “Yeah, don’t lose any sleep over that one.” We wandered around the downtown area for a while. Parts of it were dirty and deserted, while other parts had been fixed up real nice. I’d never been there
Mark A. Roeder
64
before. We always went to Eastland Mall and all those places on Green River Road, way over on the other side of town. We walked back out to the street near the river, and Billy stuck his thumb out. We had a ride in no time at all—this time with a college-aged girl who wasn’t a bad looker. She was headed for Highway 41 and then on toward Princeton. It wasn’t quite our direction, but it would put us closer to home. Billy flirted with the girl. Mandy was her name. I couldn’t believe she flirted back at him. I also couldn’t believe what she was driving—a practically new red Corvette convertible. It was one sweet car. Billy kept it up with Mandy. He was riding in the front seat with her, and I was in the back. I couldn’t believe she didn’t say something to him like, “Dream on, boy,” or “You wish” or something like that. Billy told her how pretty she was and I silently agreed with him—blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs. What was not to like? I think she liked the compliments. Billy meant ’em, I could tell, but I’m sure he’d have said the same even if he didn’t think she was so hot. It was fun to see him operate, even though he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with her. Mandy was probably twenty-one or so. What would she want with a fifteen-year-old boy? I figured Billy was gonna get us kicked out of the car when he suggested Mandy pull off onto a side road so they could make out. I wasn’t as nervous as when we rode with Bob, though. Perhaps I was getting braver, or maybe it was because I really doubted Mandy could be some kind of psycho. She sure looked normal enough, where Bob kinda looked like that guy who ate boys and kept their body parts in his ‘fridge. Mandy did pull off onto a side road after a while. I’d have bet my eye teeth we were about to be dumped like a couple of stray dogs, but she drove on down the crumbling asphalt road until she came to an abandoned drive that now led to nothing. She pulled the car up into it until it was mostly hidden in the trees. Across the road, there was nothing but a field where corn was beginning to grow. I began to second guess myself on whether or not she was a psycho. There were two of us and only one of her, but she looked pretty strong. I hated to admit it, but she could probably kick our butts. Now wouldn’t that be embarrassing? We got out of the car, but Mandy pulled Billy into the back seat and started making out with him. My mouth dropped open. If I wasn’t there to see it, I wouldn’t have believed it. I wouldn’t have been more surprised if she’d pulled a knife on us and told us she was having out livers for dinner. I wasn’t so sure about Billy’s story about doing it with Cindy Erickson, but there was no doubt he was making out with Mandy. It was happening before my
Mark A. Roeder
65
very eyes. I even closed and reopened them a couple of times, but I wasn’t hallucinating. Mandy looked up at me over Billy’s shoulder and patted the seat on the other side of her. I swallowed hard and walked around the car, wondering how I was going to disguise the huge bulge in the front of my jeans. I rearranged my shirt so that it was hanging from the front of my jeans, instead of the side. My mind was spinning. Was this real, and how far was it going to go? I had a sneaking suspicion I was dreaming, but it all seemed real enough. Weren’t dreams supposed to be kind of sketchy, jumping around in time as they did? This wasn’t like that at all. I climbed into the back seat and Mandy turned toward me. Billy smiled at me over her shoulder and arched his eyebrows as if to say, “Fuck, yeah!” “You’re such a cutie,” said Mandy, just before she pressed her lips to mine. I’d never been kissed before. I had no idea how it was done, so I let Mandy guide me. I rubbed my lips along hers and opened my mouth a little when she did. I felt her tongue slip inside my mouth and I put mine in hers. I closed my eyes and just melted into what was going on. It was incredible! My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode, and more astonishing things were going on in my pants. If making out was this intense, I wondered what sex would be like. Mandy pulled back and gazed at me, mussing my hair and smiling. She sat back in the seat and extended one hand toward me and the other toward Billy. She rubbed her hands on our bare chests. “You two are so hot,” she said. I swelled with pride. A college babe thought I was hot! Mandy and Billy started making out again, but I didn’t feel too left out. My mind was reeling. In moments, Mandy was kissing me again. If this was what it was like with a girl, I had to find a girlfriend, and fast! I watched with fascination as Billy made a move for Mandy’s shirt and tried to pull it up, but she stopped him. “If you want my shirt off, you’re gonna have to give me something in return.” “Anything,” said Billy, as if he were under some kind of spell. I bet he’d have handed over $500 if he had it. “Let me see you two kiss.” “What?” I cried out, surprised. “Oh, come on,” said Mandy. “Guys get off on seeing two girls make out. Why’s it so surprising that a girl would like to see two boys do it?” “I’m NOT doin’ it. No way!” I said. “Don’t be so uptight, man,” said Billy.
Mark A. Roeder
66
“Dude!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I think Billy really was under some kind of spell. “Come on,” he said, widening his eyes and motioning with his head toward Mandy. The boy was desperate to see Mandy with her shirt off. “No,” I said, folding my arms. I meant it, too. Mandy was hot, but it just wasn’t worth it. “Mackenzie, come on, it’s not like you have to blow me. It’s just kissing. You kiss your dad, don’t you?” “Not on the lips!” Billy’s eyes were pleading with me. My mind raced. Would he call me a coward later if I didn’t give in? Would he accuse me of ruining things with Mandy and hate me for the rest of his life? After a few more agonizing moments, I caved. “Okay,” I said, “but not for long!” I can’t believe I’m doing this, I thought to myself. Mandy smiled. We all got out of the car. Mandy leaned against the side of her convertible while she watched Billy and me standing there. I’d never felt so awkward in all my life. “Come on, get closer,” she said, leaning up and pushing us together. The bare skin of my torso rubbed against Billy’s for a moment before I pulled back. We inched in slowly, our lips getting closer and closer for what seemed like ages. I pecked Billy quickly on the lips and pulled back, looking at Mandy to see if it was enough. Billy grabbed me by the back of the head, shoved his lips roughly against mine, and shot his tongue into my mouth. I tried to pull back, but he held onto me, wiggling his tongue around in my mouth, moving it against my own. Mandy said, “Mmmmm,” and Billy kept right on kissing me. He was crushed up against me with one arm holding my face against his and the other wrapped around my back so I couldn’t escape. Billy was hard. Finally, Billy broke the kiss and I pushed myself away from him, wiping my lips with my forearm. “How was that?” asked Billy. Mandy smiled and slowly pulled her shirt over her head. She was wearing a bra and she looked fine. I was beginning to think that kissing Billy was worth what I was getting to see, but I wasn’t sure. Billy stepped to Mandy and starting necking with her again. He was chewing on her neck and licking at her chest. He tugged at her bra, but she slapped his hand away. Apparently, us kissing didn’t earn us a look at her completely topless. It was kind of a rip off. I inched closer and Mandy pulled me in and kissed me. She had one arm around us both, holding us against her and each other. It was weird watching
Mark A. Roeder
67
Billy make out with Mandy from that close up. Our faces were practically touching. While Mandy was making out with Billy, she lowered her hand and felt my butt, and then she brought it around front and grasped me through my jeans. I thought my eyes were gonna roll back in my head. When she started kissing me again, she pulled her hand away from my crotch. I didn’t want her to stop what she was doing, but making out with her was so sexy. I glanced down and saw she was working Billy’s bulge just like she did mine. Soon, she was kissing Billy again and her hand was back on my crotch. I pressed it into her. She was driving me crazy, but I didn’t want it to stop. Suddenly, I moaned, and pure ecstasy shot straight through my entire body. Mandy kept groping me until I was done. I fell back against the convertible, trying to catch my breath. Mandy and Billy were making out like crazy and their hands were all over each other. She stuck her hands right down his pants and in a few moments more he was moaning just like I had. When he was finished, Mandy gave him one last kiss and told us to get back in the car. I was in a state of total shock as we drove back to the highway. I simply couldn’t believe what had just happened was real. The smile on Billy’s face made it pretty obvious I wasn’t dreaming, though. Mandy was really nice to us. She actually drove us all the way home, even though it was out of her way. Billy tried to get her phone number, but she said no. Doing what’d she done with us wasn’t strictly legal and making it more than a one-time thing was too risky for her. I understood, but Billy wasn’t happy about it at all. She gave him a big, wet kiss, however, and it gave him kind of a dreamy look that lasted until she’d driven away. “What do you wanna do now?” I asked when Mandy was gone. “I just wanna go home and replay this over and over in my mind,” said Billy. I had no doubt I’d be doing that myself. I had plenty to think about.
Orlando
Dating Krista made me feel as if I was walking on air. At least, I thought we were dating. After our successful evening together, I’d asked her out again. This time we were going to the movies. Since both of us needed to keep our spending down, we were going to meet after work, have supper together in the park, and then go to Princeton and catch a show. The theatre there was old and it didn’t have stadium seating or high-tech sound, but it was also about half the price of the theatres in Evansville. I could hardly tell the difference anyway. I was kind of nervous all day about our date—mainly because I wanted to ask Krista to start going with me, as my girlfriend. I wanted to make sure I knew where we stood. If she just thought of me as a nice guy to go out with, that was okay, but I wanted more, and I wanted to know one way or another. I just hoped I wouldn’t make myself look stupid. What if she thought of me as just a friend? Suppose I’d read something into our time together that just wasn’t there. If that was the case, then I was going to try and act like it didn’t bother me too much, even though I thought it just might tear me up inside. I wasn’t in love with Krista or anything like that, but I really liked her. I spent part of the day in the Skee-Ball pavilion working with Toby. He seemed a bit more distant than he had before. Perhaps he just had things on his mind. He still joked around with me, so I guess everything was still cool between us. I hoped so. I was beginning to think of Toby as a friend. I loved Skee-Ball, so working the pavilion was cool. I loved the sound of the wooden balls as they rolled up the lane and the sounds the machines made as they counted off points. The machines spit out tickets that guests could trade in for - 68 -
Mark A. Roeder
69
prizes. At most parks, it took forever to get enough tickets for a prize and the prizes were kinda cheap. It was different at Phantom World. They had some really cool stuff and, if you were good at Skee-Ball, it didn’t take that long to get something good. It was kind of like buying the prize, only you got to play Skee-Ball, too. For prizes, we had all the usual things like stuffed animals and funny hats, but we also had posters of different parts of the park, coupons for free food, and all kinds of Phantom merchandise like CDs and pictures and stuff. I liked getting to work in different areas of the park. It would’ve been boring if I was stuck in the funnel-cake booth or somewhere like that day after day. But my schedule constantly shifted me around. Depending on how many hours I worked, I was assigned to anywhere from four to eight different rides and booths. After working the Skee-Ball pavilion, my next stint was with cleanup, which meant walking around the park sweeping up litter. Cleanup was probably the worst job in the park, but I even enjoyed it most of the time. Like all the jobs, it rotated among the entire staff, so even if I hated it, I wouldn’t have to do it too often. There really wasn’t that much to sweep up. Most of the guests tossed their garbage into one of the many trash cans around the park, which were shaped like ghosts, werewolves, and various other monsters and oddball creatures. I don’t know if it was because I was eagerly anticipating my date with Krista, or if it was merely the fine weather and beautiful surroundings, but I was downright enjoying my task of sweeping up litter. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the warmth of the sun was perfect—luxuriously warm, but not in the least bit hot. The scent of roses, carnations, petunias, and many other flowers I couldn’t name was carried on the gentle breeze. I was surrounded by laughter and the screams of those enjoying the more thrilling rides in the park. My senses seemed more finely tuned than usual. I was keenly aware of all the sights, sounds and scents around me as I walked about the park—the distant rumble of The Poltergeist cars careering at high speed, the squeaks of the bumper-car pedals as guests impatiently waited for the ride to start, the mechanized whir of The Scrambler, and the rumble and sudden splash as the logs of the Fatal Falls topped out and were released to fly down a narrow channel into a shallow pool. For a few minutes, I just closed my eyes and listened. There was a whole world of sounds and scents surrounding me that I too often ignored. I spent a good deal of time during my cleanup duty near the Ferris Wheel, helping Mr. Meadows. He was tending large, raised beds of purple and blue petunias. He carefully pulled each small weed that was attempting to gain a foothold and pinched off old, dead or dying blooms. I swept up the weeds and shriveled
Mark A. Roeder
70
blooms and carried them away to the Frankenstein trash can that was not far distant. “My mom used to garden a lot,” I said. As I spoke, my words and the warm, sweet scent of the petunias brought back a memory I didn’t know I’d lost. I smiled. “What are you thinking?” asked Mr. Meadows. “I just got this picture in my head,” I said. “I must’ve been real little…Mom and Dad were working in a flowerbed by the house, our old house. Dad was pulling weeds and Mom was planting flowers—petunias. I was just sitting on the grass watching them, but sometimes I’d rush over and try to pick the flowers.” I laughed. “That had to be ages ago, before Dad…left.” I suddenly missed my dad more than I had in a long time. Part of me hated him for leaving Mom and me, but sometimes I wondered where he was and if he ever thought about me. “I wonder why I remembered that just now?” “Maybe it’s the scent of the petunias. Scent can be a powerful reminder,” said Mr. Meadows, “Or maybe something else is on your mind.” He silently tugged weeds from the flowerbed, not pressuring me to say anything I didn’t have a mind to share. “I really miss my dad,” I said. “He left when I was four. We never got to do much father/son stuff. I was too young. It used to make me feel like kind of an outcast, because the other guys had a dad and I didn’t.” Mr. Meadows stood and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked into his eyes. They were crinkled into a smile. “I wish Dad was here so I could talk to him about stuff,” I said. “Such as?” asked Mr. Meadows. “Like, well…Krista. I really like her, but I’m not sure how she feels about me. I mean…we’re good friends now, but I’ve got these other feelings for her. My chest kind of gets tight around her sometimes and I feel…I dunno…kind of like a little electrical storm is going through my body. I care about her, you know? And then there’s…well, she’s way attractive and I, um…well, I’m attracted to her.” I could feel myself going red. Saying I was attracted to her was putting it lightly. If I’d said, she sets me on fire with uncontrollable lust, it would’ve come closer to the truth. I felt like Mr. Meadows somehow knew the real meaning behind my words. “The thing is, I don’t know how she feels about me. She’s friendly and all, but are we friends or are we more? How do you tell?” “Ah, the complications of love,” said Mr. Meadows. “It’s a tricky business, my boy, but I think your best course is simple honesty. Just tell her how you feel—
Mark A. Roeder
71
reveal your feelings of friendship and your more intimate feelings as well. If you’re truthful with her, she’ll be truthful with you.” “And what if she rejects me? What if she doesn’t think of me in that way?” “Then you’ll know, and you can stop worrying about it. You can try to enjoy her as a friend. If her feelings for you are deeper than friendship, you’ll know that, too. Either way, honesty will let you know where you stand.” “Thanks,” I said. Mr. Meadows kind of felt like a dad just then, even though he was old enough to be my grandfather. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel that way about Gene. If he and Mom kept going together and got married…well, I didn’t know if I’d like that much. Maybe it would be okay and maybe it wouldn’t. I doubted I’d ever be able to think of Gene as anything other that just some guy who was dating my mother. Mr. Meadows and I worked in silence for a good long time. I enjoyed plucking weeds and squeezing off the dead blooms, giving the living plants a new grip on life. There was something comforting and calming about being so in touch with nature. Guests walked by smiling and laughing as we worked. Their mood was infectious and I found myself smiling, too, despite my worries over Krista. Just before I left, Mr. Meadows took my hand and said, “Good luck, Orlando, and remember this, whatever happens was meant to happen, so try to make the best of whatever life throws your way.” I could tell he was talking about more than Krista. I wasn’t accustomed to hugging strangers, but I wrapped my arms around Mr. Meadows and gave him a squeeze. He seemed pleased by my display of affection. I knew baring my heart to Krista wasn’t going to be easy, but at least now I felt a little better about it and a little more equipped to handle rejection. ✶
✶
✶
✶
My body felt all shaky, as if I’d gone too long without eating. I knew that wasn’t the cause, however. It obviously wasn’t lack of food, since Krista and I were wolfing down excellent pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. No, the reason my body was out of control was sitting right beside me—Krista. “Are you okay, Orlando?” she asked. I looked her in the eyes. “Am I that obvious?” “You’re all antsy and your eyes keep darting around.” I had no idea I’d been fidgeting.
Mark A. Roeder
72
“Um, listen, I’ve got something…I, um…well…oh, gee,” I said, burying my head in my hands for a moment. I looked back at Krista. “I’m not too suave, am I?” “You’re cute,” she said, no doubt causing me to go a bit red. “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “This is going to torture me until I do it, so I’m just gonna ask.” I took another deep breath. “I like you, Krista. I like you a whole lot. If you just want to be friends, that’s okay. But if you’d like to be more than friends, I’d like that a whole lot better. I don’t know how you feel about me. If you don’t like me like that, I’ll understand, but…” My rambling was ended by Krista leaning over and kissing me on the mouth. A little explosion went off in my head and I felt as if happiness had enveloped me, like some kind of magical mist permeating my body, penetrating me down to the atomic level. Krista leaned back and smiled at me. “Does that answer your question?” I grinned. We finished our pizza and walked through the park. I kept my arm around Krista, holding her close, giddy with the rush of having a girl. I tried to keep my hormones in check. I wanted us to be about more than physical attraction. It was going to be an uphill battle, however, as my body had ideas of its own. I wondered: Did girls feel the same way? Did they look at guys and think about their bodies? “Why don’t you follow me to my house and we can leave your car there,” suggested Krista. “Actually, it’s mom’s car, but yeah.” I got in the well-used Neon—127,000 miles and still going strong, mostly— and followed Krista’s much newer Sunfire. Krista’s home was one of those big, heavy-looking houses that were built in the 1930s, or 40s, or 50s, or whatever, with a large, concrete-block front porch. Krista pulled into the drive, and I parked the Neon out front. I got out and walked across the yard. “Why don’t you come in for a minute? I’d like to freshen up.” “Are your parents home?” I asked nervously. “No, you’re safe.” I followed her inside and staked out a place on the couch while she ran upstairs. Krista’s home was much better kept and newer than ours. It was built decades ago, but it had modern windows, new beige carpeting and nice upholstered furniture. Our house wasn’t falling apart or anything, but it had a more used look to it. Things were a bit worn at home.
Mark A. Roeder
73
I heard a sound coming from what I assumed was the kitchen and got up. Had Krista’s parents come home? I hadn’t heard a car. I hoped they hadn’t. I wasn’t ready to deal with her parents just yet. A moment later a guy about my age, or maybe a bit older, came through the door. “Who are you?” he asked, looking me over like he might be thinking of kicking my ass. Even though Krista had never mentioned having one, I had little doubt this was her brother. They looked frighteningly similar. The boy standing before me in worn jeans and a Motley Crue t-shirt had the same facial features, blond hair and blue eyes as Krista. His hair was shorter than hers, but still somewhat long, curling around his ears and down the back of his neck. It was far more unkempt than Krista’s, kind of wild and untamed, although I guess those are the same thing. “I’m, uh, Orlando. I’m going out with Krista.” I stopped just short of saying I was her boyfriend. It seemed premature for some reason. “Oh, the ice princess has a boyfriend?” “Ice princess?” I asked. That didn’t seem to fit Krista. “Mainly just with me,” he said, smirking. “What’s your name?” I asked, since he hadn’t volunteered it. “Kerry. Witty huh? Kerry and Krista—our parents probably stayed up nights thinking those out.” Kerry rolled his eyes and then peered at me. I felt uncomfortable, as if he knew a secret about me. My chest felt kind of tight as I stood there awkwardly, not knowing quite what to say. A small smile turned up the edges of Kerry’s mouth, and he moistened his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. Just then, Krista came downstairs. She spotted her brother and looked at me. “He didn’t say anything vulgar, did he?” she asked. “Didn’t have time,” answered Kerry, before I had a chance. “I’ll get around to it next time, Li’l Sis.” Krista bristled, but turned her back on Kerry as if she was resisting bait. She took my upper arm and led me out the door. Kerry watched with interest. “You didn’t tell me you had a brother,” I said, as we climbed in the car. “I like to pretend I don’t.” I laughed. “He’s not that bad,” said Krista, “but he can be a jerk. The less we see of each other, the better we get along.”
Mark A. Roeder
74
Our conversation turned to our choice of movie for the night. The Princeton Theatre ran some pretty recent films and some retro stuff, too. Krista had never seen Notting Hill and it was playing, so we decided to watch that. I could vaguely remember the film from watching it with Mom a few years before. It had Julia Roberts and that English guy in it—Hugh Grant, yeah, that was his name. If I remembered right, it was actually kinda cool and definitely a good date movie. We took our places in the theatre only moments before the previews started and I surprised myself by putting my arm around Krista. She leaned in against my shoulder and I enjoyed the closeness. For some reason, it made me feel manly and strong. Sitting there watching, I thought about myself as Hugh Grant and of Krista as Julia Roberts. She would’ve made a good movie star, and I think I would’ve been right at home selling books, although maybe not travel books. I wanted to kiss Krista. I even allowed myself to fantasize I was doing it. My mind drifted from the movie and I pretended we were in a beautiful private park, surrounded by giant old trees and lots of fragrant flowers. I took Krista in my arms, pulled her close and kissed her—not like when she’d kissed me earlier, but a deep, lasting kiss, the kind I’d been wanting and not getting for a long time. I jerked back in my seat, causing Krista to stare at me for a moment. I pretended my leg had gotten a sudden pain in it. The truth was far more disturbing and I wasn’t about to share it with Krista. As I’d been kissing her in my daydream, Kerry had suddenly forced his way into my thoughts as if by magic. More than that, in my mind it abruptly became Kerry I was kissing, instead of his sister. I’d been jolted by the shock of it, and that’s when I jerked back in surprise. I could still see him grinning at me inside my head, as if he was really in there through some kind of psychic phenomenon. He had that same expression on his face he’d had in his living room, as if he knew a secret about me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, disturbed by the thoughts in my own head.
Toby
At last! A day off! I’d been dying to get at some of the rides in Phantom World. Best of all, it was C.T.’s day off, too, and we were spending the day together at the park. I met C.T. just outside the main gate. It was the first time I’d seen him wearing something other than his staff shirt. He was wearing a pale-blue Hedwig and The Angry Inch t-shirt and matching blue Umbro soccer shorts. I liked his shorts a lot. They were sexy. I wanted to run my hands all over them. I swallowed and I could feel my face getting hot, and I became fearful C.T. could somehow read my thoughts. Things had been entering my mind recently that I’d been afraid to think about before—desires that had never before fully found expression. I’d long known I was into boys, but what that meant had always been kind of foggy. It’d mostly been a desire to hug and kiss a boy, like most guys would’ve hugged and kissed a girl. And then, there was that feeling I got when I looked at a guy who wasn’t wearing a shirt. Looking at C.T., my thoughts were becoming clearer. Where before thinking about my desires was like trying to peer through a thick fog, now it was like gazing out the window on a crystal-clear day. I wanted to feel C.T.’s butt. I wanted to hold him and kiss him and feel his tight butt while I did it. I wanted to see what he had at the front of his shorts, too. I wouldn’t let my thoughts go any further than that. Part of me wanted to, but my own thoughts seemed obscene. I felt as if I wanted two different things—love and sex. My romantic notions didn’t mix well with my physical desires. They were like oil and water. When I thought about holding hands and hugging, it seemed very innocent. Even kissing - 75 -
Mark A. Roeder
76
was romantic, although some of my fantasies that involved kissing went over the line. Kissing was like a bridge from love to sex. At one end, it was affectionate. At the other, it was pure physical desire. Once the bridge was crossed, kissing became something different and led right into sex. Sexual acts didn’t seem romantic to me. They didn’t seem like love. I wanted to have sex, sure, and I knew people in love did those things, but I had mixed feelings about it. I didn’t see how love and sex could fit together. I had these warm and fuzzy feelings for C.T., and then I had these other wild, sexual desires directed toward him. I didn’t feel love when I was thinking about sex with him. I just thought of the sex itself. I couldn’t figure out how the two might go together: like I said, oil and water. I wasn’t going to worry about it too much. My lack of experience was likely to blame for my lack of understanding. Virginity had a greater meaning to me than its simple definition. It didn’t just mean I’d never had sex. It meant confusion and ignorance. The whole idea of sex intrigued and attracted me, but I must admit it frightened me as well. I was going to take things slowly, however, so hopefully I’d be ready when the time came. As slowly as things were proceeding, I would probably have gray hair before I got there. I patted C.T. on the back as we approached the ticket booth, the touch causing my hand to tingle as if electricity were passing through it. I wondered if C.T. would notice me in my red tank top and black shorts. I sure didn’t have any kind of muscles to show off, but tank tops made everyone look a little better built, and I needed all the illusion I could get. We flashed our ID cards and were soon inside. “Let’s start small,” said C.T. “How about bumper cars first?” “Lead on,” I said. We turned left and made our way past the merry-go-round and onto the bumper cars. The line wasn’t too long. “It feels really weird being here and not working,” I said. “Yeah, I was just thinking that, too. I keep feeling like I should be doing something. Oh, look at that girl. How can she wear that green shirt with those purple shorts?” I stifled a giggle. C.T. was quite often on “fashion patrol.” I never thought much about what anyone was wearing, unless it was a hot guy and his clothes made him look especially sexy or something. C.T. seemed to notice everything. I noted his shirt and shorts matched perfectly. I was willing to bet he was always— um, what did Mom call it—a fashion plate? I just couldn’t picture C.T. appearing anywhere wearing a striped shirt and plaid pants or anything like that.
Mark A. Roeder
77
We watched the bumper cars for a bit while waiting our turn. The scent of hot rubber and electrical heat wafted out from the pavilion. The sparks coming from overhead sounded like some kind of super-static. Some of the smaller kids really got knocked around when a car crashed into theirs. I loved to see how older people got into it. They gleefully drove around smashing into everything in sight as if they were kids again too. The bumper cars of Phantom World were unusual. Each was shaped like some monstrous creature with the head at the front—Godzilla, ghosts, werewolves, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, a giant, venomous looking spider, a witch, and an assortment of zombies and ghouls. Freaky music with a rock beat was playing and fit perfectly with the monster theme, but also sounded something like the soundtrack to a scary movie. I’d noticed music was a big part of the atmosphere of Phantom World. There was music everywhere. Someone had spent a lot of time coming up with just the right sounds for different areas of the park. All the music fit perfectly. C.T. and I rushed to our cars as the chain at the front of the line was lifted. C.T. hopped in a car made up to resemble the Grim Reaper, and I got the witch car. The sound of squeaking pedals filled the air. It seemed almost a tradition. I’d noticed it when I’d worked the bumper cars. Even though the power wasn’t turned on and everyone knew it, they still pumped the pedals as if somehow they could make their cars go. Perhaps it was just excitement and impatience to get going. I couldn’t wait to ram into someone myself. I was going to do my best to smash into C.T. The ride started and I was immediately caught in a traffic jam, wedged in between a werewolf and a ghoul, unable to move an inch. The jam broke quickly enough and I was off. C.T. was already on the opposite side of the track, but I began to swerve and dodge my way toward him. A really cute boy with long, black hair slammed into me head on, snapping my neck back. He smiled at me and I momentarily forgot where I was. I was lost in his gaze. I returned to my purpose soon enough and hunted down C.T., while also keeping an eye out for the boy who’d plowed into me. Sometimes, there were too many attractive guys around; I just couldn’t look at them all! Perfect, I thought as C.T. turned across my path not far ahead. I dodged a little girl who nearly cut me off and then plowed into C.T. from the side. The jolt knocked C.T. around and his Grim Reaper car slid sideways. C.T. laughed and yelled, “Now you’re gonna get it, Toby!” In his smooth, soft voice, the threat didn’t sound too convincing, but I laughed and sped away.
Mark A. Roeder
78
C.T. got me just before the ride ended. I was trapped by a dad riding with his little girl and the cute boy with black hair when C.T. slammed me from behind. I about got whiplash from the impact. C.T. laughed in victory and the ride was over. Despite the fact that I was with C.T., I was hoping the cute boy would come and talk to me. I didn’t have the courage to approach him, but maybe he’d be braver than I was. He was pulled away by friends, though, and that was the last I saw of him. Was there something in his eyes as he looked at me, or was it my imagination? He’d been looking at me even as his friends dragged him toward another area of the park. My attention quickly refocused on C.T. as he pulled me toward The Poltergeist. “From sedate to terrifying,” he announced as we walked up the raised path that led to the colossal wooden roller coaster. The line actually passed under the tracks in more than one place, so the coaster roared over our heads a few times as we waited our turn. I was nearly shaking with nervousness, but determined to go on. I didn’t have a fear of coasters—not exactly, anyway—but a part of me felt like bolting whenever I was waiting to get on one. When the ride actually started, there were moments of sheer terror, but a wild exhilaration that left me breathless. The line for The Poltergeist was long and we had quite a wait. It wasn’t too painful, however, as we had the coaster to watch and each other to talk to. C.T. was telling me how he wanted to perform in some of the park’s shows when a spot became available. Like me, he’d applied too late to get in this year. All the singing and acting positions had been filled before he’d considered it. I told him I wanted to get into the shows, too, and we agreed to try to get in on the same one—the actual production to be decided later. I felt like I’d made a good friend. Maybe C.T. would even be my boyfriend. He seemed the best bet at the moment, although Spike wasn’t far behind. My head almost spun with the thought of having two potential boyfriends all at once. My success with C.T. was helping to take away the sting of Krista dating Orlando. There was a group of shirtless high school boys not far ahead of us. They were wearing shorts that said Charger Football. There were three of them and they were all built. If I had pecs, abs, and biceps like them, I’d have gone around shirtless all the time too. I stole glances at them as I talked with C.T. I thought about quietly asking him what he thought of them, but I didn’t, because I feared that was going too far. I didn’t want to push things with my potential boyfriend. He might not like me checking out other guys. Who knew? He could be the jealous type. I didn’t want to risk the boys overhearing either.
Mark A. Roeder
79
I wondered why some guys got to be all built and studly and others were like me—short, skinny, and weak. Okay, those guys ahead in the line played football and no doubt worked out, but I didn’t think I could ever look like that even if I killed myself on Mackenzie’s Bowflex or in a gym somewhere. Half of me was mad because I could never look like those guys and the other half was mad at myself for wanting to look like them. Why couldn’t I just be happy with the way I looked? It was all those fitness magazines and Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs that made everyone want to be all muscled and tight. I’d read something in a magazine that talked about it: how the media pushed impossible standards that no real person could achieve. It was simple cruelty, making people want something they could never have. Then again, those boys in line ahead of us had it. They had gorgeous bodies. Only one of the three was what I’d call handsome, but with bulging muscles like that, who cared what their faces looked like? I turned my attention to C.T. Maybe not everyone had to be an Abercrombie & Fitch boy. C.T. didn’t look like those guys, and I was attracted to him. Maybe I was just weird, but I thought he was hot in his own way. He didn’t have big pecs or biceps and I didn’t know what his abs looked like, but I would’ve jumped on him in a second if I thought it was okay. After ages, we sat down side by side in the coaster. I pulled the bar down over our laps and tried to calm myself. When all was secure, we slowly moved forward. The anticipation increased to almost unbearable proportions as the train of cars turned sharply and began its long, steep ascent. I wanted off. I wanted them to stop the coaster and just let me off. Why was I stupid enough to get on this thing? There was no stopping now, however, and besides, I didn’t want C.T. or the football jocks in front of us to see me chicken out. I tried to take my mind off my fear by focusing on the shoulder muscles of the boy in front of me. Mmmm, he did look good. Was I the only guy in the world that sometimes felt like licking someone? We topped out and the coaster went into a dive. It felt like we were going a 150 miles an hour. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and, beside me, C.T. squealed like a girl. He held his hands over his head and shouted, clearly having the time of his life. I wasn’t going to let go of the bar for anything. My hands were clamped down on it as if my life depended on it. The air rushed through my hair as the coaster roared along its tracks. My heart raced and I felt more alive than I had in a long time. The Poltergeist freaked me out, but, at the same time, I loved it! We darted around turns and hopped over the high points. We screamed down sharp inclines, feeling our hearts in our throats. I was so glad to share this with C.T. It was freaking awesome!
Mark A. Roeder
80
By the time the coaster jolted to a stop, I didn’t want to get off. I wanted to stay right there and ride it again. I didn’t know if my heart could handle it, though, so I willingly followed C.T. to the exit and back into the park. We rode the merry-go-round, the Ferris Wheel, and just about every ride in the park. The Twister just about gave me a heart attack. It was smaller than The Poltergeist, but those loops made me feel like my insides were going to come right out my mouth. When our stomachs began to rumble with hunger, we took time out for bacon-cheeseburgers, hot dogs, and fries, followed up by funnel cake and finally cotton candy. After devouring all that we stayed away from the more intense rides for a while. I had no desire to see my lunch again. The one ride we didn’t get to go on was the Graymoor Mansion. I really wanted to ride it, but the line was extremely long so we decided to save it for another day. I didn’t mind too much. After all, we did get to ride everything else in the park. We spent some time just walking around, too. I loved all the flowers, the creepy trees, cemeteries, statues of monsters and the overall atmosphere of the park. We headed for the exit at about five. We had plenty of time left, but I was exhausted and was getting a headache. C.T. looked kind of wilted, too. We’d had an awesome time together and I sort of thought of it as our first date. I couldn’t wait until we could do something together again, but at least I could look forward to working with C.T. the very next day. ✶
✶
✶
✶
When I arrived home, Mackenzie and Billy were in our room working out on the Bowflex. They were both shirtless and sweaty. Billy’s muscles were bulging. “Hey, Toby, why don’t ya work out with us?” said Billy. I hesitated just a moment too long, giving Billy an opening to laugh at me. “Yeah, right! I bet you couldn’t bench press 10 pounds.” Billy and Mackenzie both giggled. “You laugh like a girl,” I said, trying to sound like Billy. Was that a mistake in itself? I wanted to sound tough, but I didn’t feel it. What Billy said really got to me—you couldn’t bench press 10 pounds. The truth was, I did want to work out with them. At least part of me did. I knew I was weak physically and I wanted to be stronger. I wouldn’t have minded being less skinny, too. “Oh, trying to be a tough guy, huh?” said Billy, closing the distance between us until we were standing face to face less than a foot from each other. He’d been
Mark A. Roeder
81
doing bench presses right as I walked in, and his pectoral muscles were taut and flexed with his slightest movement. I tried not to notice, but Billy looked hot. “At least I’m not making a deluded attempt to look like some Abercrombie & Fitch boy I saw in a catalog.” “Deluded, huh?” said Billy, obviously without comprehension. “It means you think you’re going to look like the guys in the catalogs if you work out all the time, but you’re not.” “Catalogs, huh?” said Billy. He and Mackenzie exchanged a glance. Did I detect a slight shake of the head from Mac? “Anyway, Toby, don’t try to act tough, because you’re not. I’m a year younger than you, but I can kick your ass.” Billy seemed to grow taller as he stood over me, flexing his muscles. He had the slightest, sexy smile on lips. Did he know he was turning me on, even as he stood there threatening me? I turned away from him, not because I was afraid, but because my excitement was beginning to show in my shorts and I didn’t want him or Mackenzie to see. “Just leave me alone,” I said. Billy laughed and went back to working out on the Bowflex. I sat down at the desk with the sound of pulling cables and bending rods behind me. Even though I wasn’t looking, I knew what they were doing. Billy had sat back on the bench again and was performing more bench presses. Part of me wanted to watch. Part of me wanted to stare at his chest as his muscles tensed and flexed. Why was I attracted to such an asshole? I sure couldn’t claim I was drawn to Billy by his charming personality or sweet disposition. He had neither of those. All he had was a body and a bad attitude. I was confused by my feelings. Why did Billy turn me on when he towered over me and threatened me? Why did he turn me on at all? It didn’t make sense. I don’t know, maybe it did, but I wanted to be better than that. I wished he’d stop hanging around. Well, most of me did, but part of me got a thrill from seeing him. I tried to get the image of his sweaty chest out of my mind, but I wasn’t very successful, probably because part of me wanted to keep that image in my head forever. I went downstairs to get away from Billy, my brother, and their flexing muscles. I thought about getting on the internet to look for Spike, but it was a little early and I didn’t want to risk it with Billy and Mackenzie in the house. Instead, I went into the kitchen, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and relived my day with C.T. in the privacy of my own mind.
Mackenzie
Neither Billy nor I had mentioned what’d happened in the back of Mandy’s Corvette convertible a couple of days earlier. It was my first time. Had I rid myself of my virginity, or did what happened count? I’d made out with Mandy and we’d felt each other up, but did that count as sex? I mean, it was sex, but we didn’t go all the way. I wish we would’ve. Mandy was hot! I couldn’t believe Billy and I had made it with her. She was, like, a college girl. What we’d done was probably illegal, at least for her, and, for some reason, that made it all the more exciting. Still, I was kind of frightened about the whole thing. I wanted it, no doubt about that, but now that it’d happened I felt kind of weird about it. I don’t know if I could’ve gone all the way with Mandy with Billy there watching. I guess I would’ve if that was the only way. It would have been kind of freaky, though, like what Mandy made us do. I think that’s why Billy hadn’t mentioned Mandy since she dropped us off— because of what happened. I never thought in a million years I’d kiss another boy, but since that was the price for doing it with Mandy, I paid it. I didn’t like it, though. I guess the actual kissing wasn’t all that different from kissing Mandy, but still, it was with a boy. I was never gonna tell anyone I’d done it. I wondered if Toby had kissed a boy yet. How could he enjoy it, knowing he was kissing another guy? It would be kind of funny if Toby hadn’t done it yet. He was a queer and I was straight, and I still made out with a boy before he did. I guess it wasn’t really funny, though. I feared it was a memory that would haunt me for the rest of my life. I’d probably have nightmares about it or something.
- 82 -
Mark A. Roeder
83
Billy had been telling me about his sexual exploits, most of which I suspected were just made-up stories, but they were still hot. He was oddly silent about Mandy. Was he keeping quiet about doing it with Mandy because I was there and didn’t need to be told, or was he ashamed of us kissing each other? It was more his idea than mine. It was Mandy’s idea, of course, but Billy was the one who pushed me into it. If I’d refused, he would’ve been pissed because that would’ve been the end of things with Mandy. I could almost hear Billy accusing me of cock-blocking him if I hadn’t gone along with it. I wondered why Billy went through with it. He sure wasn’t queer. I guess he did it for the same reason I did: so he could have Mandy. That’s what really decided it for me. I wanted her. I didn’t want Billy pissed at me, but I wanted Mandy bad. I knew I’d probably never get a chance at another girl in her 20s until I was in my 20s, too. The whole thing blew my mind. Just thinking about it drove me crazy. Boy was Mandy hot! No one was home. I was going over to Billy’s soon, but that was later, so I leaned back on the pillows on my bed, pulled down my shorts and started making myself feel good. I relived my entire Mandy experience, minus kissing Billy. I was going to make use of those scenes for years to come. ✶
✶
✶
✶
Billy and I sat at his computer. We were online, as Spike, chatting with Toby. Earlier in the evening, Spike had received an e-mail from Toby. We had set up a special Hotmail e-mail address just for our pretend queer, Spike. Toby had sent a photo of himself. Billy and I had been searching for one to send him, in case he got brave enough to send his own. It had taken a long time to find something we could use, especially since we made the mistake of telling Toby that Spike had spiked hair—that cut down our options. We lucked out, though. Billy found the website of some boy who lived in Nebraska that had a dozen or so photos of himself on it. He was perfect. “I’m gonna try to get Toby to send us a shirtless pic,” said Billy. “Why?” “To see if he’s desperate enough to do it,” laughed Billy. He was wicked, a quality I admired. Billy typed and then grinned up at me after a few moments. “He’s desperate enough. He says he’ll take one and e-mail it. I told him Spike would do the same.” Billy’s grin grew wider. He was having way too much fun. “Hey, Mackenzie, you think it’s time to set up a meeting between Toby and Spike?” “Dude, do I need to remind you there isn’t a Spike?”
Mark A. Roeder
84
“Duh! Just for fun, dude—just to mess with your brother’s head.” “I dunno, man, that’s kinda cold.” “Ah, come on. It won’t hurt him. Later I’ll make up some shit about why Spike couldn’t make it. It’ll be fun.” “Okay, whatever,” I said. I wasn’t sure about the idea. It seemed more pointless than fun, but I went along because Billy wanted it. Billy typed along in silence for a while. I was getting a bit bored. I wanted to uncover some material I could use against my brother in the future, but Billy was intent on “the meeting.” I watched over his shoulder as he talked Toby into hooking up with him. Billy hinted that there might be some fooling around involved. That was enough lure for my horny brother. He agreed to meet at The Grove, the local hangout and make-out spot for teens. It would be easy for us to spy on him there, which was without doubt why Billy suggested it. “Lemme talk to him for a while,” I said. “Okay, man, I’m gonna go get a sandwich.” I sat down at the keyboard, prepared to be Spike. It was time to discover some of my brother’s secrets. Before I got the chance, he started chatting about Harry Potter. “What was your favorite part of the first book?” asked Toby. I racked my brains, trying to come up with something. “I liked the part when Harry first meets Malfoy at Hogwarts.” “Huh?” “It’s cool the way he blows him off,” I typed. “Dude, that wasn’t in the book. He met him on the Hogwarts Express in the book. He met him at Hogwarts in the movie.” “Oh,” I typed. “Sorry, I get ’em mixed up.” I thought it was a pretty nice save. Why the hell did they have to change things in the movie? “So what’s your favorite part of the books?” I thought hard for a bit. “I like the sport they play on broomsticks best,” I typed. Please, let that be in the book, I silently prayed. Surely, they didn’t add that in just for the movie. “Yeah, Quidditch is so cool.” It was time to get away from Harry Potter before I made another mistake. Besides, I wanted to discover something useful. “Hey, Toby,” I typed, “you have any guys you’re hot for? Like, boys at school or something?” If I could get him to tell me boys he had a crush on, I’d have some excellent material to tease him with. I could wait a few weeks and then kind
Mark A. Roeder
85
of work it in without him realizing how I’d come by the information. I wouldn’t out and out say he had a crush, but I could hint around and drive him crazy. “Well…yeah. You?” “Yeah,” I typed. I figured he’d tell me more if I told him some stuff, and what did I care? It was just all made up for me. I just wanted to be sure I remembered to take notes. “Hey, can I ask you something?” “Sure,” I typed. “You ever get turned on by a guy who’s not nice?” “Um, what do you mean?” I was genuinely confused. “I mean, I know this boy and he’s a jerk, but something about him turns me on.” “I guess I could get turned on if a boy like that was hot.” “That’s not what I mean, exactly. This boy, he’s got a hot body and that gets me excited, but there’s something more. I don’t know if I can explain it.” “Try,” I typed, even though I wasn’t too sure I really wanted to hear. Having my brother telling me about getting horny wasn’t exactly what I wanted. “My brother’s got this friend and he’s a dick, but sometimes…I dunno. Like today, he was working out with my brother and he was being a big jerk. He was standing there over me, all sweaty-like with his muscles kinda gleaming and I started getting…excited. I had to turn away so he and my brother couldn’t see. I don’t know why he makes me feel like that. It doesn’t make sense.” Whoa! Toby had the hots for Billy! I had the feeling I was learning too much, but Billy was gonna laugh his ass off when I told him. “Um, I don’t know,” I typed. “I guess I can kind of understand that, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way.” I had no idea what to say, so I thought it best to just play ignorant. Billy returned moments later. “Guess who my brother’s hot for?” I asked him. “Who?” “You!” “No shit!” said Billy. “Lemme talk to him.” “Okay. Hey, I’m going to go home. I want Toby to see me there while he’s still chatting with Spike. It’ll keep him from getting suspicious.” “Good idea. Sometime, I’ll have to stop by your house while you chat with him. That’ll confuse him even more.” “Later, dude.” “Later.”
Orlando
I was working the Scrambler when I caught sight of a familiar looking blond boy. For a moment I didn’t recognize him, but then it hit me: He was Krista’s brother. He was wearing the same worn jeans he had on couple of days before when I’d first set eyes on him. He’d traded in his Motley Crue t-shirt for a sleeveless, No Means No shirt. I wondered if he did it to show off his muscled arms or if it was just coincidence. A girl was squeezed tightly to his side as they waited to get on the ride. They had their arms around each other’s waists. When they drew level with me, Kerry leaned down and gave his girl a lingering kiss. “Hey, man,” said Kerry, looking up as their lips parted. “You’re Krista’s boyfriend, right? Oreo? Um, that’s not right…” “Orlando,” I said, pointing to my name tag. “Yeah, that’s it. Sorry, man.” Kerry locked his blue eyes on mine and the edges of his mouth upturned ever so slightly. The girl at his side was gazing up at him adoringly and he knew it. I had no doubt he was turning on the charm for her. He looked down and gave her another kiss. “This is, uh, Cheryl.” “Sherry,” the girl corrected. “Right. Sorry. I’m so bad with names.” “I guess you two haven’t been dating long then,” I said. “Oh, no, actually we’re not. I mean, we would, but Sherry’s just here for the day. She’s from Kentucky.” “Tennessee,” said Sherry. - 86 -
Mark A. Roeder
87
“Right,” said Kerry. “We’re hanging for the day, aren’t we, Babe?” She nodded and Kerry kissed her again. Did he always pick a girl for the day when he came to the park? “Anyway, nice seeing you, man. I’ll tell Krista I saw you.” He started to move on, but then stopped. “Hey, you have some time off later? We could hang out or talk or somethin’.” “Um, I’m off at six,” I said, a bit bewildered. “Cool, why don’t I meet you somewhere then?” “Uh, okay, I guess. The hot dog stand?” “Sure, man. That’ll be cool. See ya then.” The ride finished and I walked up and opened the gate. Kerry and Sherry passed me again, both smiling. They were making out as I secured the door of their car. Kerry was being awfully friendly. I didn’t think he cared all that much for me when we’d met. Maybe I’d just got the wrong impression, though. He seemed nice enough. Sherry sure liked him. I remembered he called Krista ice princess, although that was probably just a brother/sister rivalry type of thing. Even Krista had said he wasn’t all that bad. I missed working with Krista. It was her day off. Unfortunately, my day off didn’t always coincide with hers. I was hoping we could get that changed. Park management was pretty good about that. They seemed to sincerely care whether or not we were happy. I’d worked alongside Toby in the morning on The Twister. He was all hyped up, more than usual, which was saying something. He was dancing around and singing some. The guests in line thought it was funny and do did I. Toby was a riot sometimes. Time passed quickly in the park and, before I knew it, it was about six. I left the Phantom World Railroad where I’d been working with Avery, a college boy from up north, and made my way through the park toward the hot dog stand. Kerry was there waiting on me. There was no sign of Sherry. “Where’s your girl?” I asked. “She had to leave at five. I’ve been wandering around by my lonesome.” “I’m sure you managed.” Kerry struck me as someone who could take care of himself in any situation. An amusement park was hardly a challenge for him. Kerry flashed me a toothy grin. “Hungry?” asked Kerry. “Starving.” “Let’s get some wieners, then.” Kerry leveled his gaze at me, looking suddenly serious.
Mark A. Roeder
88
“What do you want?” I asked. “I was thinking about a foot-long with the works. I like ’em long,” he said. “And maybe some fries.” “Give me a buck-fifty, then. I’ll order. I get half off.” I pocketed the money Kerry gave me and used my ID card to order. I ordered the same thing he did, with a root beer. A couple of minutes later we were sitting at the same bench Krista and I had occupied a couple of days or so earlier. “So you serious about my sis?” asked Kerry. “Is this the brotherly warning to keep my hands off?” “Fuck, no! I don’t care what you do with her. I’m just making conversation.” “I like her a lot. I think I could get serious about her pretty easily.” “I guess you know what you’re getting into,” said Kerry. “I mean, she’s okay—you’re probably a lot friendlier with her than I am, so she’s probably nicer to you.” “You two don’t get along?” “We get along okay. We just get on each others nerves. She’s always tying up the bathroom and she says I play my music too loud.” “So, you like the Hanson Brothers?” I asked, indicating his No Means No t-shirt. “You know their music? I wouldn’t have taken you for that kind of guy. You look more like a Hanson type, instead of a Hanson Brothers type.” What does he mean by that?, I thought. But I said, “Actually, I read their name on the back of your shirt.” “Oh, yeah,” said Kerry. We didn’t speak for a while after that. We just watched passersby and occasionally looked at each other. There was something intense about Kerry’s face, something mysterious. My eyes were drawn to his mouth as he ate his foot-long. He had a peculiar way of eating a hot dog. He bit off the bun around the dog with his teeth and ate it separately. He caught me watching him and slowly slid his lips up the exposed wiener before taking a bite. He had that look on his face again—the one where the corners of his mouth ever so slightly turned up into the most minimal smile. “So, have you done it with my sister yet?” “That’s kind of personal, but no, we just started going out.” “You a virgin?” I was a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, especially since I barely knew Kerry. I hesitated. “You are, aren’t you?” Kerry said, conspiratorially.
Mark A. Roeder
89
I didn’t answer and Kerry didn’t press me. Instead, he just grinned, and again, I had the feeling he knew the answer without me saying it out loud. Our conversation turned to other matters, and Kerry asked me about working in the park, where I went to school, and so forth. After the question about my virginity, it was all very non-threatening. His eyes were always on me, though, and I felt like I was under a microscope. When Kerry looked into my eyes, I felt like he could read my very thoughts. I felt like he knew what had happened when I’d been fantasizing that I was Hugh Grant and Krista was Julia Roberts. For a fleeting moment, Krista had turned into Kerry and I was kissing him instead. I hoped to God he couldn’t really read my thoughts. We walked around the park, stopping to ride on the bumper cars and the Splashing Specter. It was kind of fun hanging out with Kerry. It felt a little weird, since I was his sister’s boyfriend, but I guess there was no reason for me to feel like that. Why shouldn’t we hang out? I was glad that Kerry had asked to meet me. He was more than a little cool. I never dreamed when I met him that we’d be friends, but we certainly seemed to be heading in that direction. Kerry had a tough-guy side to him I didn’t possess. He had a “we live for today” feel about him, although I’m not sure what made me think so. Maybe it was something in his expression, or his gait. His face betrayed no fear, no uncertainty and no vulnerability. His stride spoke of confidence and perhaps even conceit. He had an aura of strength about him I admired. I was a little afraid Kerry was a druggie, and I intended to make it clear I didn’t do that stuff if he tried to lead me down that path. At the very least, he was a smoker. He gave no sign of lighting up in the park, but I could just tell. As we were strolling around, a boy of maybe fourteen, with long dark hair, eyed Kerry warily. He seemed about to approach us for a moment, but then turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. I looked at Kerry. He was watching him depart. “Friend?” I asked. Kerry turned his head in my direction. “Uh, former friend you could say, but not really: just a kid that used to hang around me.” What do you want to do next?” I asked. “Hey, what time is it, man?” asked Kerry, stopping and looking around as if searching for a clock. “About eight.” “Shit, um, I gotta get goin’.”
Mark A. Roeder
90
“Okay, no problem. Um…” I stood there awkwardly, not really wanting him to go. He seemed to sense it. “Hey, drop by sometime, why don’t ya? When you’re not pawing my sister or…whatever.” Kerry winked at me. I ignored the remark about Krista. “Sure, I might do that. Um, here’s my number,” I said, writing it out on a scrap of paper I’d pulled from my pocket. In case you want to call or…whatever.” Kerry gave me one of his “barely a smile” smiles and took the paper from me without comment. He stuffed it into his jeans pocket. “Later, man,” he said. “Later.” I headed toward the rear of the park, in the direction of the employee parking lot, while Kerry quickly disappeared into the crowd. There was something mystifying about Kerry. I thought about him a lot all the way home. ✶
✶
✶
✶
When I got to the house, Eddie was waiting for me on the curb by the street. I noted that Gene’s truck was parked nearby. “Hey, man, wanna hang out?” “Sure,” I said, eyeing Gene’s truck. I didn’t feel like dealing with my mother’s boyfriend or whatever he was to her. I followed Eddie to his Cutlass, which was parked down the street. I climbed in, noticing that his hair was squeaky clean. I leaned in and sniffed. “Strawberry shampoo,” said Eddie. “Beth likes it.” He grinned. Apparently, he’d taken my advice. “So, how’s that goin’?” I asked. “It’s goin’ good, man!” said Eddie, grinning even more. I was right. He was almost cute when he smiled—not quite, but almost. “We went to the movies last night.” “So, I guess you asked her out?” “Nah, we just happened to end up sitting side by side at the same movie. Of course, I asked her out, dufus!” “And she actually said yes?” I tried to sound amazed. “Shut up!” said Eddie, but he was still smiling. “Will wonders never cease?” “Dude, don’t make me hurt ya.” “Okay. Okay,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.
Mark A. Roeder
91
“I had my arm around her the whole movie and she was kind of snuggling up against me, you know? So, when she looked at me, I leaned in and kissed her.” “And she didn’t scream rape?” Sometimes, I cracked myself up. “We’re not talking about one of your dates, Orlando. Anyway, we made out in the car afterwards until she had to go home. I’d say give it two weeks and she’ll let me nail her.” “You’re so romantic,” I said. “Hey, I got what the babes like,” said Eddie, grabbing his crotch. “A small dick?” He punched me hard in the shoulder for that one, but he wasn’t mad. That’s something I liked about Eddie. We could goof around without either of us getting pissed off. “Man, Beth is so fine.” “Better than Tara?” “A hundred times better than Tara. She was a skank.” “I seem to recall you were quite taken with her.” “I liked bangin’ her. She was cheating on me with Adam Henshaw. Can you believe it?” “Adam Henshaw?” I asked, incredulously. Adam was a true burnout. He made Eddie look like an angel. “Yeah, she was makin’ it with the most repulsive boy in school while we were dating.” “Man, I’d get myself tested. You don’t know where Adam’s been or what he’s done.” “I don’t wanna know.” “Who does?” “I always used protection with Tara. I’d have been up shit creek if I knocked her up, and besides, I had my doubts about her. I wasn’t real surprised she was sleeping around. After all, I screwed her when she was dating Eric Michaels.” “Dude! That was just asking for trouble. He’d have pounded your butt if he found out.” “Hey, I couldn’t help it. She made me sleep with her.” “Made you? How?” “By asking me! You know I’ve got no willpower. I need a joint.” Eddie pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road and rolled himself a joint. “You should still get tested,” I said. “I did, man, after I found out about Adam. Since then, I found out she was sleeping with a lot of guys.”
Mark A. Roeder
92
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” “I think maybe you’re the only guy who didn’t sleep with her. You didn’t, did you?” “Dude! I wouldn’t sleep with your girl!” “I don’t mean while we were dating. I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” “Oh. No, I never got near Tara. I wouldn’t have touched her with…sorry.” “It’s okay, Orlando. I should’ve had more sense myself, but, like I said, I got no willpower. Babes can just wrap me around their little finger.” “With a string tied around your balls,” I said. “So, has Beth got you lassoed by the ‘nads yet?” “Oh yeah. I’m all ready to be her little slave-boy. Oh! Doesn’t that sound like fun?” “Spare me the details,” I said. “Ah, come on, man, you got no imagination!” I grinned and shook my head as Eddie toked. I could already feel myself getting a slight buzz. “What’s on your mind?” asked Eddie after we’d sat there in silence for a while. He could usually tell when I was off. “My mom. She’s been seeing this new guy, Gene. I’m not sure about him yet.” “Is this the whole, you resent him because he’s tryin’ to replace your real dad, thing?” “No. My dad left. He abandoned Mom and me, so I don’t care if he gets replaced or not.” “Oh, I saw that on TV somewhere. So what’s with this guy, Gene?” “I don’t know. Nothin’, I guess. I just get this weird vibe from him. He’s like, nice and everything, but I wonder if it’s just an act. He gave me ten bucks the other day. It’s like he’s tryin’ to buy me off.” “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.” “I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens.” “Well, if this Gene doesn’t work out and Beth doesn’t work out, maybe I could date your mom!” “Yeah, like she’d want a loser like you.” “Come on, older women love us young guys, ’cause we’re so good in bed.” “Dude, we’re talking about my mom here.” “She’s hot, man. You see, you don’t notice, ’cause she’s your mom, but I’d pop her in a second.” “Dude!”
Mark A. Roeder
93
“Well, it’s true. Don’t worry, Orlando, if we get married, I won’t make you call me daddy.” I punched Eddie in the upper arm—hard. “Ouch!” Eddie rubbed his arm, put his joint out by sticking the burning end in his mouth, then pulled onto the road again. I sat back and relaxed. Chilling with Eddie made me feel better about everything.
Toby
All day my mind was filled with C.T. and Spike. I worked The Graymoor Mansion with C.T., and we were once again heavily involved in talk about musicals and music in general. I admitted I had a thing for boy bands, and C.T. didn’t flinch. I thought that since he was such a big musical-theatre enthusiast that he night turn up his nose at pop music. He didn’t. He told me he liked most of the groups I mentioned. “You know,” said C.T., “Phantom and Hanson aren’t really boy bands. The play their own instruments and write their own songs. They’re hardly boys, either. Jordan’s, what, twenty-two now?” “Twenty-one, his birthday’s on July 31st.” “Okay, so twenty-one isn’t exactly a boy. Anyway, my point is Phantom and Hanson aren’t true boy bands because they don’t just get up and dance around to music written and played by someone else. That’s probably why they’re still around, and The Backstreet Boys, N’SYNC, and a whole lot of others are history. Boy bands don’t stick around long. They’re all the rage for a while and then they just disappear. Mainly, teenagers go for them and when they grow up a little, they forget all about the guys they had plastered all over their walls for a while. Just watch, Aaron Carter will go the same way as the others. In a few years people will be saying Aaron who? Phantom and Hanson are serious musicians and will probably be around as long as they like, but boy bands—here today and gone tomorrow.” “I never thought of it like that. You know, I guess you’re right. I used to see Phantom and Hanson plastered all over the teen magazines, but they’re not there - 94 -
Mark A. Roeder
95
anymore. Now they’re in magazines like Rolling Stone and the more serious music publications.” “Exactly.” I grinned. It was great to have someone I could discuss music with face to face, instead of on the internet. C.T. was real. Spike was real, too, even though we’d never met face to face. I had a picture of him on my computer, and was he hot! I was surprised he wanted to meet me after seeing my pic. I’m not exactly repulsive, but short and skinny isn’t exactly what most guys, or girls for that matter, go for. When I wasn’t with C.T., I was thinking about Spike most of the day. I felt a little guilty about planning to meet him, because I really liked C.T. and kind of thought of our day together as a date. It wasn’t really, though. Neither of us had called it that and I didn’t know how C.T. viewed us. I wanted our relationship, whatever it was, to be more clear-cut, but I didn’t want to talk to C.T. about it too soon. He might think I was desperate or pushy or something. And then, there was the potential for rejection. He might just see me as a friend and nothing more. Just because he was gay didn’t mean he’d go for me. I was sure there were thousands and thousands of gay guys who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole. C.T. could be one of them. Spike was another matter. He’d hinted he was interested in doing something with me. Late in our chat, he’d come right out and said he wanted to fool around with me. I was just about to find out exactly what kind of fooling around he meant when my bratty brother came home. He walked toward me, and I was so shaken and fearful that he’d see I was on Gay.com, that I typed a quick gtg (got to go) and closed the browser. I sent Spike an e-mail before leaving for work, confirming our meeting at The Grove at 6:30 p.m. It would still be light out then, which I thought a good idea. I felt like I knew Spike from talking so much with him, but I didn’t really know him. I was mostly sure he wasn’t a child molester or chainsaw murderer in disguise, but I wasn’t stupid. It paid to play it safe. Still, my parents would’ve freaked out if they knew what I was up to. I could just hear Mom: Meeting someone off the internet! Do you want to send me to an early grave? You could end up in some psycho’s freezer! I was excited all day about my upcoming meeting. I was hardly aware of Krista when she was talking to me. I felt a bit bad about that, but it wasn’t like I was mean or something. Besides, Orlando was working with us, and she was too busy mooning over him to pay a great deal of attention to me. Things were getting tighter between those two, and I found myself getting a little jealous.
Mark A. Roeder
96
I felt guilty. I was mainly thinking about what Spike and I might do when we met. I hadn’t so much as kissed a boy and I was eager to do so. I was pretty eager to do a lot more, too. To be honest, I wanted to do about everything two guys could do together, even though I didn’t entirely understand some of it. I’d learned a lot about gay sex from the internet and some of it seemed a little far fetched. I especially didn’t know if I wanted some guy to stick his thing up my butt. That had to hurt, although in the pictures I’d seen, the guys doing it seemed to enjoy it. I was sure Spike and me wouldn’t be doing that at our first meeting, but there were plenty of other possibilities that caused my shorts to grow tighter in the front. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I should’ve been thinking about Spike as a possible boyfriend. I was, but thoughts of sex were clouding my vision and getting in the way. It seemed impossible to separate the two. I wanted much more than sex. That wasn’t even the most important part of what I wanted. But when I thought about having a boyfriend, holding his hand, looking at the stars and hugging him, my thoughts always sailed right along—thoughts of hugging led to visions of humping and getting hard, and then doing something to relieve the tension that hardness always brought with it. I wanted a sweet, romantic, boyfriend who’d be my friend, but I couldn’t think about that without also thinking about dick. Even though love and sex were like oil and water to me, they were still connected by a bridge; the one seemed to lead to the other. Maybe it was okay that I thought about sex so much. All guys did. Sure, most of ’em were thinking about girls, but it was just the same. I think maybe I thought about the non-sex stuff more than the guys who went nuts over girls. I never heard any of them talk about going on walks, holding hands, or just spending time with a girl. It was always about blowjobs—wanting one or getting one, and sometimes about fucking. It was never about love. I’d seen some guys with girls in the halls who had a kind of dreamy look in their eyes that made me think their thoughts were bent towards romance, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe they started thinking about walks in the moonlight and stuff like that after they got a girl. Maybe it was just guys without girlfriends, or boyfriends, who were obsessed with sex. Maybe I’d calm down after I found someone—although I sincerely doubted it. ✶
✶
✶
✶
I rode my Trek toward The Grove, the mountain bike making passage along the rutted lane with ease. The Grove was a place of legend, a place where teenag-
Mark A. Roeder
97
ers went to have sex and do lots of other forbidden things. I’d been there before. I’d come when I was twelve, out of curiosity. A couple of high-school boys smoking dope had pushed me around, made me get on my knees and beg them not to beat me senseless. I never told anyone about that. Sometimes, I still thought of those boys towering above me with their flexing muscles. They could’ve hurt me if they’d wanted. They could’ve made me do anything they wanted. That realization both frightened and thrilled me at the time and since. I was older now, no longer a little kid. I still felt a tremor of fear pass through my frail body as if those same boys would still be there waiting on me. I shook my head to clear it. There was no reason to fear the ghosts of the past. I climbed off my bike and leaned it against a tree. The Grove was empty. It was not yet 6:30. In my eagerness, I’d arrived a little early. Maybe I should’ve come a little later to make an entrance, but it was hard to wait knowing I might soon have what I’d wanted for so very long—a boyfriend, or, at the very least, sex. I tried not to just stare at my watch. Time crawled; 6:30 came and went without the appearance of Spike. By 6:45 I was downcast. He wasn’t coming. I felt like crying. I actually began to do so, but I stopped myself before I’d sobbed too much and wiped my eyes with my shirttail. I was being a baby. Besides, he might still come. He didn’t. The minutes passed; 7:00 came and went. Soon, I gave up. I was too miserable to wait any longer. I climbed back on my bike and rode home. I shoved my bike in the garage, not caring when it fell over with a crash. I walked inside, straight to the computer. I checked my e-mail. There was a message from Spike.
Toby, I’m really sorry. My parents caught me smoking and grounded me. I don’t even smoke, not really. I just tried it with a couple of friends and my parents actually drove by and saw me. Can you believe it? I’m sorry. I know it was stupid to do that today when I was going to be meeting you, but I didn’t think I’d get caught. I’m not allowed to drive now, at least not for a while. Dad’s talking two weeks, but I’m hoping to get a reduced sentence for good behavior. I hope you didn’t wait for me long. I feel like a jerk. Don’t hate me, ‘k?
Mark A. Roeder
98
To make up a little for not being there, I’ve attached another pic of me. It’s without a shirt. I hope you like it ☺ Spike
I felt better, although there was still a sob in my throat that wanted to come up. I wasn’t going to let it. It would be stupid to cry. Spike didn’t stand me up. He got in trouble. I was pissed at him for being stupid, but, like he said, he hadn’t planned to get caught. I didn’t like him smoking. It made him less appealing. I’d always thought that kissing someone who smoked would taste nasty. I’d probably still kiss Spike after he’d been smoking. I’d take the risk to feel his lips against mine. I’d do it so I could touch his tongue with my own. The pic he sent drove me crazy. I just stared at his muscles for a while. I loved the way his biceps curved on his arms. Looking at his chest muscles just about made me run for the bathroom to whack off. No one was in the room with me, so I quickly printed out a copy of the pic and slipped it under my shirt. I’d keep it hidden under my bed or somewhere like that so I could look at it over and over. I’d keep Spike’s e-mail, too, so I could see his pic online. I didn’t dare save it to the hard drive. Mom or Dad or Mackenzie might find it if I did. I hit reply and answered Spikes e-mail.
Dear Spike, It’s okay, I guess. I waited for about an hour, thinking you might just be late. I really wanted to meet you. I still do. I understand. It’s not your fault. Well, it is, but you didn’t mean it to happen. I hope you can still use the internet even though you’re grounded. It will suck if you can’t. If you can, e-mail me right back so I’ll know. I’ll get on Gay.com at ten and look for you. Be there if you can. I still want to talk. That pic you sent me of you is sooo hot! It got me all excited. It makes me wanna…well, I’ll tell you that when we chat. I’ll try and get a shirtless pic of me soon, too, but you won’t like it. I’m skinny and not built like you. Toby
Mark A. Roeder
99
I hoped he’d e-mail me back soon. I hoped he’d be online at ten, too. It would make me feel better if I could talk to him. It would reassure me he hadn’t just decided I was a pathetic loser whom he didn’t want to meet. It would truly suck if his parents wouldn’t let him use the internet. It might be two weeks before I heard from him then—two weeks of waiting and wondering.
Mackenzie
With Billy at my side, I watched Toby through a thick growth of honeysuckle. My brother was waiting on a boy who would never come—a boy who didn’t even exist. Billy looked on with delight in his eyes, snickering quietly. I wasn’t enjoying myself so much, especially when I saw Toby start to cry. I wanted to mess with his head and dig up some dirt on him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I wasn’t feeling so good about myself as I watched him. “Let’s go,” I whispered to Billy. “This is getting boring.” When we were well away from The Grove, Billy turned to me and said, “That was cool, wasn’t it? We actually got him to go and meet Spike.” I didn’t answer. “What’s the matter with you?” “Dude, what we’re doing isn’t cool. We’re playing with his feelings. You saw him cry.” “Ah, come on, Mac. Don’t go soft on me. He’ll get over it. Spike is just some guy he talks to on the internet. It’s not like we hired some boy to pretend to like him and then spit in his face or somethin’. Come on.” “I dunno. This isn’t turning out like I’d planned. I feel bad about it. Maybe we should stop.” “Now that would hurt Toby, wouldn’t it? He likes Spike. He likes talking to him. It probably gives him something to look forward to. You know how boring your brother is. If he wasn’t chatting with Spike, he’d just be reading some stupid book or something.” “But Spike’s not real! You keep talking about him like he is! We created him.” - 100 -
Mark A. Roeder
101
“Dude, chill. I know. I’m the one who hunted down the photos of him to send Toby. Remember? Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll send him an e-mail. I’ll say Spike was grounded, like we planned, but I’ll make Spike all sorry about it, that way Toby won’t feel bad. I’ll even go ahead and send him a shirtless pic. He’ll like that. It’ll give him something to jerk to.” “I dunno.” “Look, man, we’re doing him a favor. You think a real boy is gonna go for your brother, especially one as good looking as Spike? Toby’s a freaking geek, man. He’s short, he’s skinny, and he’s only okay looking. He’s got no muscles and he probably has a tiny pecker. On top of all that, he’s boring and he’s interested in all those boy bands. Okay, maybe that last one is a plus with fags, I dunno, but as far as the rest—he’s hopeless. The boy is gonna die a virgin. No one’s gonna have sex with him unless he pays for it or something. At least he gets to have this nice little fantasy. Hell, I’ll even have cyber-sex with him to keep him happy. Guys pay for that kind of shit and we’re givin’ it away for free.” “You make it sound like we’re doing this for his benefit,” I said. “Okay, we’re not. You want to find out Toby’s secrets and that’s a fuckin’ smart move, man. Someday, he’s gonna get some serious shit on you. Maybe you’ll try drugs and he’ll find out. Maybe you’ll get some girl pregnant or something, I dunno, but when something like that happens you can shut him up fast by holding something you’ve found out over his head. You know, you could be really nasty with what you’ve already got on him. He’d probably do anything you want to keep you from squealing to your parents that he’s a fag…” “I don’t know about that.” “The point is you’re not doing that. You’re just getting information to protect yourself later and maybe to have a little fun with. It’s insurance. You’re buying a fuckin’ insurance policy, man.” “And what are you getting out of it?” I asked. “It’s fun, man. You know how boring it is around here. Shit like tonight, that’s a laugh, man. We got your stuck-up brother to go and meet someone who doesn’t even exist. It’s funny! We’re also getting him to tell us all kinds of shit he’d never tell us otherwise. Sure, a lot of it’s fag stuff and kinda gross, but some of it’s not. Hell, it makes me wish I had a brother so I could pull a stunt like this on him. It’s classic, man!” I still wasn’t sure, but, as Billy pointed out, Toby was getting something out of it. “Well, maybe, if we can end this thing in a way that won’t hurt him…”
Mark A. Roeder
102
“Leave it to me, Mac. When we’re done playin’ with him, I swear, I’ll end it in such a way that it will just be a pleasant memory for Toby. I like fucking with your brother, but I don’t want to hurt him either. What kind of an asshole do you think I am, anyway? I’ll plan it all out so that when Spike does break things off, it won’t hurt him, okay?” “Okay, I guess.” “Look, if you want me to, I can do most of this by myself. It would probably be smart for him to see you around a lot when he’s talking to Spike anyway. If he begins to catch on, you’ll be the number one suspect.” “He might suspect you, too.” “I’ll work on somethin’ for that,” said Billy. “Don’t worry so much, Mackenzie. I got it all covered.” Billy was probably right. He was cool. He knew things. He could handle this. It wasn’t like we were going to keep it up forever. It would all be over in a few weeks anyway. Billy would end it so that Toby wouldn’t get hurt, so what did it really matter? Besides, it was something I could offer Billy, something to keep him thinking of me as cool. I was tired of being just one of the guys. I wanted to be in and Billy was the key.
Orlando
I enjoyed working at Phantom World right from the start, but Krista made it extra special. Toby added his own bit of exuberant fun into the mix as well, but my heart leaped each time Krista walked toward me. She made me feel something I’d not felt before. There are no words to describe it. I couldn’t even explain it to myself in my own head. It was one of those things for which there is no language. The closest I could come was thinking of it as a feeling that made my chest rise and sort of tingle—almost a nervous feeling, nearly fear, but not quite either of those. Whatever it was, I liked it. My day at the park passed in a blur of noisy Skee-Ball, roaring roller coasters, and the beautiful music of the merry-go-round. At lunch, Krista, Toby and I sat and ate cheeseburgers and fries in the warm sun. We were surrounded by beauty, kids having fun and the sounds of the park. Toby seemed a bit jealous of Krista and me at times, but either he was growing more at ease with our relationship or he was hiding his feelings well. I wondered if he had a crush on Krista and resented me a little for dating her. I couldn’t just come right out and ask him, however, without embarrassing him or making him angry. I thought it best just to leave it alone. Krista and I both got off work at six and decided to stay and enjoy the park. Both of us had a special love for amusement parks. I’d have thought we would’ve have grown tired of Phantom World since we worked there practically every day of the week, but neither of us seemed to be able to get quite enough of it. We often stayed after work, just to have a bit of fun. I even hung around late when Krista was gone, riding rides or talking to Mr. Meadows. - 103 -
Mark A. Roeder
104
“What’ll it be for supper?” I asked Krista. “Seafood, pizza, submarine sandwiches, chicken nuggets, or gourmet hot dogs? Perhaps followed by a delicious funnel cake with strawberry or blueberry topping?” Krista laughed. “You sound like a waiter in a fancy restaurant.” “Good, that’s what I was going for. I wish I could afford to take you to fancy restaurants.” My smile faded. “Hey,” said Krista, “who needs that? Listen, you want to know the truth? I don’t like fancy restaurants. Don Pablos or The Olive Garden is the top of the scale for me and I usually prefer Fazoli’s, Denny’s, or Pizza Hut.” “You’re just saying that to be nice.” “No, really! And, honestly, I’d rather be right here, with you, eating hot dogs or whatever in this beautiful park than anywhere else. I don’t need fancy restaurants. I don’t even want them. They make me uncomfortable. Give me a good old hamburger any day.” I grinned. “You make me feel much better about being poor.” “Who’s poor?” asked Krista. “Look at where we are. We’ve got all this.” She indicated our surroundings with a sweep of her hand. “When I was a little girl, my parents used to bring me here maybe once a year. I dreamed about that trip for weeks in advance, and now I’m here just about every day. It’s my own little paradise and you…you’re my Prince Charming to share it with.” “Me? Prince Charming? I’m more like the frog.” “No! You’re not. You’re my Prince Charming, and you’re mixing fairy tales anyway.” I smiled. “Have it your way, then. So, what will it be?” “Hmm, a submarine is sounding good—one of those big ones with spicy sausage and those yellow peppers.” “But no jalapenos!” I said. “I agree. Those things set my lips on fire.” I grinned at her, leaned in and kissed her. “Your lips are always on fire,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. She laughed, pushed me away, and then grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me toward the submarine sandwich booth. Thick dark clouds rolled in as if threatening rain. The rain did not come, but it made it seem as if it were much later in the evening. I loved the evening hours in Phantom World. It made parts of the park spooky like a haunted house and others beautiful like an enchanted garden. Across from the submarine booth the Ferris Wheel was lit up with thousands of lights. Krista and I sat eating our sandwiches on a park bench watching the lights of the Ferris Wheel as it slowly turned. Soft music played as it went round and round.
Mark A. Roeder
105
“Do you think Toby’s a little jealous of me?” I asked Krista. “Jealous?” “Yeah, when we started going out he got a little distant. He just seems kind of jealous sometimes. I’ve been wondering if he has a crush on you.” “Me? I don’t think so. We’re not like that. Toby’s a great guy, but he’s like a little brother. I couldn’t think of him in a romantic way.” “He might be thinking of you like that.” “I hope not.” “Me, too. He’s a great kid and I think of him as a friend. I wouldn’t want anything messing that up.” “Yeah.” Our conversation flowed easily from one thing to another. That’s one of the things I liked about Krista. We could talk about anything. After we finished our sandwiches we bought a couple of donuts for dessert, as neither of us felt up to funnel cake. Krista got a chocolate-covered donut with orange sprinkles, and I picked a sourdough donut with maple icing. We ate them and licked each other’s fingers clean. “How about a ride?” asked Krista, indicating the tall Ferris Wheel. I followed her to the short line and before long we were sitting in a swinging bench seat. We moved up a few feet at a time, while others took their places, and then the wheel began to slowly turn, affording us a view of a good deal of the park. Just across the way was The Graymoor Mansion, sitting above us on the hill. It really looked as if it had sat there for a hundred years, even though it was a new addition to the park. The new fit seamlessly with the old here. Phantom World was an old park, in operation for decades as Mystic Gardens, but it had been given a new lease on life. I was glad. I remembered the park before it was closed down for restoration and construction. It was getting a rundown look to it. It just didn’t pull in enough guests to keep it going. It was nearly lost, the owners on the verge of going into bankruptcy, but it was saved at the last moment. The transformation was unbelievable. The old park was restored and new attractions were added. The park was given its spooky theme, and Mystic Gardens became Phantom World. I thought it was a rather clever play on words. I put my arm around Krista as the Ferris Wheel took us up, down and around. She leaned into my shoulder and I caught the scent of her perfume. I couldn’t resist kissing her once more. “How about The Graymoor Mansion?” I asked, as we walked away from the Ferris Wheel. “I still haven’t been on it.”
Mark A. Roeder
106
“Me either,” said Krista. “Let’s go.” It was a short walk to the massive haunted house, and the line wasn’t too terribly long this time. We only had a ten-minute wait until we were seated inside a car and passing through massive wooden doors into the Mansion itself. We were plunged into darkness. Even though the light outside was dim and the waiting area was even more shadowy, it still took my eyes a moment to adjust. We were slowly passing through a huge parlor with heavy antique furniture and cobwebs everywhere. The only light came from candles, and it gave the room an eerie glow. I jerked slightly in fear as creepy organ music began to play. The next moment the parlor was crowded with blue-gray ghosts of every description dancing right through the furniture. The specters were transparent. I could see straight through them, yet they looked so real. Far too soon our car took us beyond the parlor and we found ourselves in a cavernous kitchen. Everywhere our eyes turned there was something to startle or frighten. A black cat screamed as it jumped down almost on top of us and bats flew past, so close I could swear I felt their wings. A bubbling caldron sat on the stove, emitting a livid, green glow. Was that a head I saw sitting in the center of the table? We exited through doors and found ourselves outside for a few moments, where we could better see the exterior of the mansion. It towered above us, dominating our view, dwarfing us in our little car as if it were a living thing that might squash us with its immense weight. The Graymoor Mansion was the perfect mix of spooky delight and real fear. Inside once more, we were taken through room after room: a library with thousands of books, some of which moved through the air on their own; a massive landing where a ghost-boy in a nightshirt bolted up wide stairs with a frightening ax-wielding phantom in pursuit; a dining room where ghosts ate a lavish dinner on a huge table, talking and laughing as if they still lived; a bedroom where the boy on the stair was hacked to death before our very eyes. It was so real I flinched, fearing blood would splatter upon us. We passed through one room after another, each more fascinating than the last, until we found ourselves at the beginning once more and exited the ride. “Now that was worth the wait,” I said. “I’m going to have to ride that again and again.” “Same here,” said Krista, taking my arm. We spent the next hour walking around the park, holding hands and occasionally stopping to kiss. Mr. Meadows was tending white roses near one of the cemeteries as we neared and we stopped to talk with him. Tending roses at night
Mark A. Roeder
107
might seem odd, but the lighting was such in Phantom World that some parts were lit up like day even in the night. I’d grown to love the old man. His voice was comforting and I felt as if I had a grandfather I could talk to at any time right there in the park. Krista loved him too. She never failed to give him a hug when they parted. We rode the merry-go-round and the old time cars. I felt as if I were in a dream of beautiful swirling lights, wondrous scents and music. It was all so romantic and beautiful. I felt as if I’d never known happiness before. ✶
✶
✶
✶
Krista dropped me off after our date. I stayed outside a while on the front porch, watching the stars. Krista made me feel things I’d never felt before. If I’d known dating would make me feel this good, I’d have tried for a girl much earlier. It was as if the whole world had changed around me, or was it me who had changed? I heard voices inside. Gene was here again. He was quickly becoming a regular fixture in our home. I sighed and went inside. Mom and Gene were sitting side by side on the couch, their hips and shoulders touching. It was odd seeing them sit together like that, like teenagers on a date. “How was your day, son?” asked Gene, as if he were my dad. Like I’d told Eddie, it didn’t bother me that Gene might be taking my dad’s place, because there was no one to replace. Dad had left a long time ago, by choice. Still, I didn’t like this stranger calling me son. I was on the verge of telling him off when Mom turned to me and smiled. She was happy. I wasn’t going to take that away from her. I ignored Gene and said, “Hey, Mom.” Gene smiled at me, but it seemed all fake. I don’t like you, I thought. Something about him just rubbed me the wrong way. The phone rang. I wondered if it was Krista calling to say goodnight. I walked into the kitchen so I could have some privacy and answered it there. “Hello?” “Hey, man, it’s Kerry.” “Oh, hey.” “Whatcha doin’?” “Nothing. I just got back from a date with your sister.” “Ah, so you’ll be going to your room to jerk it, huh?”
Mark A. Roeder
108
“Uh…” As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’d planned, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “I was calling to see if you wanted to hang out. There’s nothing going on around here.” “Um, well. Okay, I guess.” I had to be at work in the morning, but I wasn’t tired and it wasn’t late. “I’ll pick you up at your house.” “Sure.” “See ya in a few,” said Kerry and hung up before I had the chance to give him directions. I guessed he’d get them from Krista or call back. I was still wearing my Phantom World outfit, so I ran upstairs and changed into jeans and a wife-beater. The night had turned warm and humid and the tank top would give me some air. I put on some fresh deodorant and waited for Kerry to arrive. He was not long in coming. A horn honked outside and I walked to Kerry’s vintage Camaro. It had been a sweet car once, I was sure, but it looked as if it’d seen better days. It was hard to see by the light of a street lamp, but I could tell it needed a paint job. When I hopped inside, I noted the vinyl was split in a few places and the carpet was worn through on the front floorboard. It had a certain appeal to it, however, and I wouldn’t have minding having it for my own. “Hey, man,” said Kerry as he pulled out into the street. “How’s Sis been treating ya?” “She’s great,” I said. “You don’t have to lie to me.” “I’m serious.” “I’m just messin’ with ya, Orlando. Loosen up.” Kerry fiddled with the dial on the radio, trying to find something decent. At last he stopped on a station playing music I didn’t recognize. “Linkin Park,” said Kerry, by way of explanation. We drove around aimlessly with the windows down. Kerry’s car apparently didn’t have air conditioning. “Damn, I’m sweatin’ right through this shirt.” Kerry was wearing a wife-beater just like me. “Hey, you wanna go swimming?” “It’s almost 11 p.m.” “So…we can drive out to my Grandma’s. She’s got this awesome little lake. It’s not far.” “Won’t she mind?”
Mark A. Roeder
109
“Nah, she won’t even know we’re there and wouldn’t care if she did. I go out there and swim at night all the time.” “Well, okay, I guess.” Kerry didn’t say more for a bit, but drove us toward the country. I envied the freedom he had—owning his own car. He was right; his grandmother’s place probably wasn’t five miles out of town. We were soon driving up a long, winding, gravel drive and then onto a grassy road that ran past an old barn. Kerry drove on for a bit more and then stopped. “We walk from here,” he said, getting out. I followed him away from the Camaro, toward a small lake where the moonlight glittered like diamonds on the surface. It was still cloudy, but there were breaks that allowed the moon to appear from time to time. Kerry stripped off his shirt, his bare torso looking pale in the moonlight. He wasted no time shoving down his jeans as well, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I pulled off my shirt more slowly, then unbuckled my belt, and pushed down my own jeans. Kerry stood there waiting for me for a moment, then ran and dived into the lake, whooping and hollering. I self-consciously took off my boxers, although it was just Kerry and me, and he wasn’t likely to see much in the darkness. The moon was hidden behind the clouds again and I could barely see. I waded into the lake. It was warm, but felt refreshingly cool when compared to the humid heat of the night. Kerry was swimming out in the depths, diving under and then reappearing again moments later some way off. When I was waist high, he dove under and didn’t come up again for several seconds. Just when I began to get a little panicky, thinking he might be drowning, he popped up again on the far edge of the lake. “How do you do that?” I shouted across the lake. “Swim team,” Kerry yelled back and dove under once more. This time, he came up almost on top of me. I was now abdomen high in the water. I’d never skinny-dipped before and the sensation of the water flowing around my genitals was exhilarating. It made me feel sexy, too. “So, you’re on the swim team, huh?” “Yeah, swim team and wrestling. I haven’t been wrestling very long, though.” “Cool.” “You do any sports?” asked Kerry. “Can’t. I have to work to help out Mom. During the school year my evenings and nights are spent flipping burgers or sacking groceries.”
Mark A. Roeder
110
“That sucks, man.” “It’s okay. You do what you gotta do.” “Yeah.” The moon broke free of the clouds again and Kerry’s bare chest was revealed in the moonlight. His torso was long and sleek. The same firm muscle I’d noted in his arms at the park was evident in his chest and abs. He had the lean look of a swimmer, but also had some of the heavier muscle mass of a wrestler. He looked particularly strong in the chest, as if he did a lot of bench presses. Kerry gave me his patented, minimal smile that, this time, seemed to indicate he knew he was stronger and tougher than I was. I felt a little inferior standing there before him. My torso was lean and not so muscular. My chest was definitely not as well developed as his and my arms didn’t bulge as much either. Kerry peered at me as if sensing weakness. “Time for diving practice,” said Kerry, wading out of the lake and climbing to the shore. I watched as he walked away, his bare butt revealed as he exited the water. It looked muscular, too—taut and rounded. Kerry walked a few steps down the shore and then stretched his arms overhead and to the side as if he were a professional diver. It gave me a clear view of his stuff and I had the feeling he was intentionally showing off. From what I could see in the moonlight, Kerry had a big dick—bigger than mine for sure. I was just over five and a half inches and I’d always felt a little inadequate. His balls hung lower than mine, too, clearly visible beneath his long shaft. Kerry looked into my eyes with a serious expression—as if he’d caught me checking him out, which he had—as if he hadn’t been putting his manhood on display, which he’d clearly been doing. Was he baiting me? Kerry dove under the surface of the lake and came up sputtering a few feet away. Water flowed down over his muscular body in the moonlight. He waded toward me, that same serious expression on his face. I didn’t want him to get too near. He couldn’t see under the water, but if he got close enough he could feel. Kerry had done something to me. I tried to calm my breath. I was shaking. I wanted to bolt from the scene, but I couldn’t leave the dark waters that concealed my secret. “Wanna wrestle?” asked Kerry. “No.” “Ah, come on.” “No!”
Mark A. Roeder
111
Kerry flashed me his barest grin again. This time it was more knowing than ever. “Let’s just swim, okay?” I asked. He nodded his head, not taking his eyes from mine until I dove past him into the lake and began to swim across its surface. Kerry followed in an instant, swimming by my side. I was thankful for the concealing darkness of the water. It took several long minutes before I felt it was safe to leave the lake. When I did, I waded to the shore, shook the water out of my hair as best I could, and raked it off my body with my hands. I quickly slipped on my boxers and jeans, afraid of losing control again. Kerry followed more slowly and stood near me. He used his shirt to dry himself, but made no move to dress. My eyes trailed to the point of danger between his legs. His manhood had stiffened and lengthened. Kerry was much bigger than I was. I pulled my eyes from his groin, and Kerry snared them with his own and held them. We stood there in silence. My heart pounded so furiously in my chest I feared Kerry could hear it, or see it. I slipped on my shirt to hide my bare chest and to keep myself from staring at Kerry’s nakedness. Kerry ran his hand down his torso, stopping just before reaching his manhood. It made my own swell in my jeans. “Um, listen…I need to go home. It’s getting late and I have to get up early. Mom will get worried if I’m out too late.” “You sure you don’t want to stay, Orlando?” said Kerry in what seemed to me a rather seductive voice. I felt my face growing hot. I was glad he couldn’t see me clearly. “Um…yeah. I really need to get going.” Kerry slowly dressed, first pulling on his jeans and then his wife-beater. We walked back to the Camaro in silence. Neither of us said a word as he drove back to town, but my heart and mind were racing. What had he done to me? Kerry pulled up in front of my house, and I opened the door. Just before I scooted out, he grasped my forearm. “I’ll be waiting,” he said and then let me go.
Toby
I had no word from Spike for two whole days. I’d just decided he was indeed being kept away from his computer when I received an e-mail asking me to meet him online at ten p.m. I was relieved. The e-mail I’d received after our planned, but failed, meeting had set my mind at ease about Spike’s reason for not showing up, but I still wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t playing games with me. I’d feared he’d lied about being grounded and would simply disappear from my life. Almost as soon as I’d cut the connection after reading Spike’s e-mail, the phone rang. I picked it up and an unfamiliar voice said, “Hello, is Toby there?” “I’m Toby,” I said, wondering whom I was talking to. It was a boy’s voice, but I didn’t have a clue as to who it was. “Hi. I hope you don’t mind me calling. It’s Spike.” Spike! I was beyond surprised. I’d given him my number, but I never expected him to call. A boy who wouldn’t even tell me his real name didn’t seem likely to call me. I found myself wishing we had caller ID. “Oh, hey.” “Um, I just wanted to make sure we’re on for tonight. I was afraid you wouldn’t get my e-mail. I really want to talk to you.” “I got it. So, what did you want to talk to me about?” “Tonight, Toby, I can’t stay on the phone. I’m not supposed to call anyone.” “Oh, okay then.” “I’ll talk to you at ten,” said Spike and hung up without a word more.
- 112 -
Mark A. Roeder
113
I looked to the top of the stairs, and Mackenzie and Billy were standing there watching me. I wondered how much they’d heard. They couldn’t make much out from just my end of the short conversation, however, so I guess it didn’t matter. “Who was that?” asked Mackenzie. “None of your business.” “Ohhh, got a girlfriend, Toby?” teased Mac. “Or a boyfriend,” laughed Billy. It cracked Mackenzie up. “Shut up, you two.” Mackenzie stuck out his tongue at me and he and Billy returned to whatever they were doing. I suspected they were once again working out with the Bowflex since both of them were shirtless and kind of sweaty. I followed them upstairs and pretended I needed to get a book from the top of my dresser. It was a ruse so I could check out Billy’s muscles. I made sure to have trouble finding the book. Billy was a jerk, but he had a nice bod. I’d been thinking about his body more and more since I’d seen him shirtless the time before. He sure wasn’t boyfriend material. The mere thought made me laugh, but it didn’t hurt to do a little fantasizing. I took gleeful pleasure in using Billy’s body in my mind for my own purposes. If he had any idea of the fantasies I spun about him, he would’ve been furious. It was all safely locked away in my own mind, however. How odd it was, I thought, that I fantasized so much about someone I wouldn’t touch in real life. Well, I would touch him, but I’d never date him. I had plenty of fantasies about C.T. and Spike, either of whom I’d touch or date for sure if I got the chance. My thoughts were still turned toward having a boyfriend, but I did have needs—needs that hadn’t been met once in the sixteen years of my life! Something had to give soon. Whacking it was a guilty pleasure of mine, but I wanted something real, something mere fantasy couldn’t give me. Billy departed about 9:30, still shirtless. He walked right past where I was sitting on the couch, and I used the opportunity to drink in the sight of his nice muscles, again storing up images for my own purposes. He sneered at me as he passed, but said nothing. I was glad to see him go, because I didn’t want any interruptions when the time came to chat with Spike. My brother was still around, of course, but he rarely came downstairs unless it was to leave the house entirely or raid the kitchen. Ten p.m. finally came and when it did I was already on Gay.com waiting. Spike appeared almost exactly on time. “Hey, man,” he typed. “Hey.”
Mark A. Roeder
114
“Listen, I’m real sorry about the other night, but it wasn’t my fault. Well, it was, but it was my parents who grounded me. I tried to get them to postpone my punishment and start it the next day, but no dice.” “It’s okay. I was bummed out, but I understand.” “Thanks. I’m glad you’re not mad, because I really like you and I think you’re real cute.” “Me? Cute? I don’t think so.” “I do.” “Well, there’s no accounting for taste, LOL.” “LOL, but seriously, you are cute. When we meet next time, I wanna do stuff.” “Like what?” I was getting excited. I was glad no one else was in the room, even though they couldn’t have seen anything if they were. “I want to kiss you,” typed Spike. “And, I want to do a lot more.” “Let’s meet real soon.” “I’m grounded for a few more days yet.” “I can’t wait.” “Me either. I keep looking at your pics, especially the shirtless one. They’re driving me crazy.” “Yours are driving me crazy!” I typed. “Let’s meet tonight.” “But you’re grounded.” “Dude, I wanna meet you so bad.” “Won’t your parents know you’re sneaking away in the car?” “They go to bed early. I can coast it down the hill before I start it. I’ve done it before.” “I want to meet you, but I don’t want you getting in more trouble.” “I won’t get caught, don’t worry. So, can you meet me?” I thought for a moment. I wasn’t supposed to go out so late, but Mom and Dad never checked to see if we were in our room when we went to bed. The only problem would be Mackenzie. He wouldn’t squeal, but he might grill me about where I’d been when I got back. I’d have to make up something to tell him. “Yeah, okay.” “The Grove, again?” “Sure.” “I’ll meet you there at eleven, okay?” “Sure.” “I’m gonna get off here and get ready.”
Mark A. Roeder
115
“Ok, see ya soon.” “Bye.” Spike disappeared. I felt a nervous knot in my gut. I wasn’t used to breaking rules. I wanted to meet Spike, though, and this was my chance. The Grove wasn’t all that far, but it would take a while getting there in the dark. I hung around downstairs for a while as the minutes passed. Time crawled by. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I made sure the coast was clear, and then slipped out the front door, locking it behind me. I prayed Mom or Dad wouldn’t want me for anything before bedtime. It would be just my luck if they went to the room I shared with Mackenzie and discovered I was missing. I silently wheeled my Trek out of the garage, climbed on, and pedaled down the street. It was too bad I didn’t have a car, but a bike was stealthy. As I rode through town, I pretended I was a spy sneaking through enemy territory. It was partly cloudy and the moon kept disappearing and reappearing, casting all about me in alternating blue light and shadow. As I neared the edge of town my thoughts turned completely to Spike. I was gonna do something with him. I wasn’t going to be shy. I was just going to do it. When we’d talked awhile, I was going to lean in and kiss him, right on the lips, unless he kissed me first. I was kind of hoping he’d do that, because that would take the pressure off me. Still, I was gonna be prepared. I was going to kiss him and then I’d see what else I had the courage to do. I had yearning thoughts about what was in Spike’s pants. My nervousness over meeting Spike was edged with fear. I hoped I didn’t pedal into The Grove to find some drug deal going down. At the very least, there’d be some high-school kids there making out and probably doing a whole lot more—if the stories were true, at any rate. Spike and I would have to find somewhere to be alone. The woods would do. It was sure dark under the trees. I’d just ridden my bike under the eaves of the forest and was following the dirt road back into the woods. I could barely see. Before long, I had to get off my bike and walk it. It was just too dark to ride. There were too many ruts. I looked at my watch, the face glowing blue: still plenty of time, no need to hurry. I wished I could get my heart to stop beating so fast. It was racing. I grinned in the darkness. I couldn’t believe it. I was gonna do it. I was gonna meet another gay boy at last and we were gonna do things. I sensed swift movement off to my right. As I turned my head toward it, someone caught me around the chest and shoved me down. My bike fell, landing on my leg. It hurt. “Gotcha! Well, well, well, who do we have here? If it isn’t Toby.”
Mark A. Roeder
116
“Billy, get off!” I said. Shit, what was he doing here? “What are you doing, fag? Come to watch kids do it? Gonna jerk it while you watch guys with their girls? You pervert.” “What are you doing here?” “That’s none of your business, queer.” “Stop calling me that!” “Oh, what are you going to do about it? Huh?” We’d arisen to our feet and Billy was poking me painfully in the chest. There wasn’t much I could do about it. He was bigger than I was, even if he was younger. “That’s what I thought, queer!” “I’m…I’m not a queer,” I said. “You’re as queer as they come. What about all those pics of guys on your wall? What’s up with that if you aren’t queer? And you think I don’t notice you drooling over my bod?” I clamped my mouth shut. What was I supposed to say to that? “Huh? Do you?” Billy was pushing me around, just daring me to swing at him. I knew better. If I did, he’d kick my ass for sure. “Leave me alone.” The seconds were ticking by. What if Spike drove up and saw Billy bullying me. Would he jump out and save me, be my knight in shining armor? Or, would he think I was a pathetic little loser and just leave me to my fate and dump me? “You don’t leave me alone, do you?” said Billy. “You just keep looking. I can’t take off my shirt without getting your drool on me. Someone’s gotta teach you a lesson.” I made a desperate dive for my bike, but Billy tackled me around the midsection and took me down. I was stunned by his fist hitting my face. I’d always known Billy was bad news, but somehow I’d never thought he’d hit me, not really, even when I was fearing it. He hit me again and I cried out in pain. I tried to pound on him with my fists. Tried, I say, because he caught my wrists and squeezed them painfully. His eyes lit up with glee and he sat on my stomach and punched me in the jaw, and then the eye. I counted each blow as it landed— three, four, five. Mercifully, he stopped and stared down into my face. “I bet you get off on this, don’t you, queer? You sick little perv. You just think about this the next time you see me, and keep your eyes to yourself.” “Please, don’t hurt me,” my voice sounded weak and pathetic in my ears. “Please, don’t hurt me,” Billy mocked. “You want some more? Don’t you?”
Mark A. Roeder
117
Billy cocked his fist back for another punch, but someone caught his arm and jerked him bodily off me. I rolled onto my side, groaning from the pain. I could taste blood in my mouth. “Are you okay?” It was a girl’s voice, one I didn’t recognize. Had I been rescued by a girl? But, no, I could hear the sounds of a scuffle. I heard a punch land and Billy groan in pain. Then, a male voice said, “Get out of here, punk, and don’t let me catch you picking on him again or I’ll beat your ass!” I didn’t recognize the guy’s voice either, but in moments he was leaning over me, just like the girl. “Hey, you work at the park,” he said. “Yeah,” I groaned. I recognized him then as my head cleared. I didn’t know his name, but I’d seen him at Phantom World. “Can you stand?” he asked. “I think so.” Strong hands gripped on either side of my chest and pulled me to my feet. “I’m Avery,” said my rescuer. “Toby,” I said. “Thanks for saving my butt.” “I was just in the right place at the right time.” I looked at Avery. He was handsome and had a sort of threatening look to him, but I obviously had no need to fear him. “This is Nicole,” he said, introducing the girl, who was no doubt his girlfriend. Why else would they be at The Grove together? Nicole was running her hands over my body, checking to make sure I wasn’t badly hurt. It was something my mother would’ve done if she was there. It made me feel better. I was about to cry. “We’ll take you home,” said Avery. “That your bike?” he said. I nodded. Avery grabbed it by the handlebars and pushed it along the dirt road, deeper into The Grove, as Nicole wrapped an arm around my shoulder and guided me up the lane. “The car’s up ahead,” she said. “We were taking a little late-night stroll when we saw, or rather heard, what was going on.” I leaned into her a little, her presence comforting. I looked around as we entered the clearing, but Avery’s car was the only one in sight. Spike hadn’t arrived yet. I felt like I should stay, but I was afraid to wait there alone, afraid Billy would return. I couldn’t exactly ask Avery and Nicole to stay with me,
Mark A. Roeder
118
either. What was I gonna do, ask them if they’d wait with me for a boy I hoped to have sex with? They put my bike in the trunk, and Nicole put me in the front seat between her and Avery, as if protecting me. I put my hand to my face and winced. I knew I was gonna have a black eye the next day. How was I supposed to explain that to Mom and Dad? I wasn’t going to worry about that just now. I was just glad to be safe. Before I knew it, I was home. I had Avery drop me off just a little down the street because I didn’t want my parents to awaken. I thanked Avery and Nicole and then waited until they were out of sight before pushing my bike home and slipping into the house.
Mackenzie
I was awakened by the bathroom light. I couldn’t see the alarm clock from my bed, but I knew it was late. Except for the small shaft of light coming from the crack in the bathroom door, the bedroom I shared with my brother was veiled in inky blackness. I got up, adjusted my boxers that’d wrinkled up and twisted in my sleep and peeked into the bathroom. “Shit, Toby, what happened?” A bruise was beginning to form around Toby’s eye, and he was dabbing at the side of his mouth with a wet washcloth. “Shhhh! Keep it down or you’ll wake Mom and Dad.” “Okay,” I said in a whisper, “what happened?” “I got jumped.” “By whom?” “The friendly neighborhood thugs. I dunno who…it was dark. There were three of them.” “What were you doing out so late?” “Never mind that. I’m not telling you, so don’t bothering asking again. Listen, Mackenzie, I need your help. I’m gonna leave early in the morning, so Mom and Dad won’t see my face. I want you to tell them that I said I had to go into work early. Then, I’m going to pretend this happened on the way to work,” said Toby, pointing to his face. “If they see me like this before I get a chance to get out, I’ll have to explain and I’ll be in trouble.” I nearly said: And what’s that to me? You deserve to be the one in trouble for a change. But Toby was hurt; some guys had jumped him and beat him up. My - 119 -
Mark A. Roeder
120
brother and I didn’t get along all that well, but I did care about him. Besides, I kinda owed him after setting him up to meet Spike. I still remembered the tears in his eyes. “Please, Mackenzie, just do this one thing for me. Don’t let on that I got beat up until after I come home from work. Okay?” “Okay.” Toby grinned. “Thanks, Mackenzie.” I went back to bed wondering just what Toby was doing out so late at night. It wasn’t like him. I wondered why he’d been jumped, too. Our town wasn’t exactly known for danger. Maybe some guys thought he was a fag or something and decided to work him over for that. Toby didn’t look like a queer, but he was into theatre, he liked to read, and he was a boy-band freak. Even without knowing what I did about Toby, I could see where guys would peg him as gay. I became nervous as I thought about it. What if he started getting teased and picked on all the time? That wouldn’t be cool. I wasn’t exactly eager to be known as the guy with a queer brother. Guys would give me a hard time. I knew this would happen sooner or later, I thought. You can’t be as weird as Toby for so many years without something bad happening. ✶
✶
✶
✶
“Toby got beat up last night,” I said, as I walked along the side of the road with Billy. “Really? He say who did it?” “He told me three guys jumped him. He didn’t know ’em, or, at least he said he didn’t. He wouldn’t say much about it.” “I bet he bawled like a baby.” “Nah, but maybe we’d better take it easy on him for a while.” “Ah, come on! Are you going soft on me, Mackenzie?” Billy’s disapproving gaze was upon me—the one that said you aren’t cool. I think I feared that look more than anything. “No, it’s just…I just think we ought to be careful about messing with his feelings. You know how sensitive he is, and now he’s had his ass kicked. He’s not like you and me. If one of us got beat up, we’d just shrug it off and go on, but Toby will think about it.” “Hey, that’s his problem. He thinks too much. When did you become his protector anyway?”
Mark A. Roeder
121
“Listen! I have to live in the same room with him. I don’t want to have to listen to him blubbering all the time, okay?” I was feeling hostile. “Okay. Okay. Just relax, Mac. I’ll just talk to him online—see if I can find out stuff for ya: insurance like we talked about. I won’t do anything to upset him. Hell, just for you, I’ll even try to make it fun for him, okay?” “Yeah, all right.” “Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Now, whatcha wanna do?” “I dunno, man.” “Wanna hitchhike somewhere? Maybe some babe will pick us up and we’ll score like last time.” “Like that’s ever gonna happen again,” I said. “It happened once, it could again. Damn that was hot. I just wish she would’ve let us fuck her.” I’d been thinking a lot about what happened with Mandy, and I don’t mean just replaying it over and over in my head and jacking to it. Part of what happened disturbed me. “Billy, about Mandy…when we were with her and she wanted us to kiss…” I paused. I wasn’t quite sure how to form my words. I didn’t want to piss Billy off. “You kissed me just to get Mandy right?” “Of course, dumb-ass. Couldn’t you tell? If we’d refused, it would’ve been over right then and there.” “I just…” “What?” asked Billy, angrily. “Never mind.” “No! What? Say it!” Billy had turned toward me, his fists clinched, his muscles flexing. I was afraid of him just then. “I just…I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to kiss you, I mean, but you seemed…” “Dude, I’m gonna be real pissed here in a second if you start talking like you think I’m some kind of fag. Yeah, I wanted you to kiss me because I wanted Mandy. That was the price, dude. Get it? Us kissing each other was the ticket that bought us a ride on Mandy. Understand? Fuck, you’re like your brother. You think too damned much. Don’t make such a big fucking deal out of it. No one’s ever going to know what happened. So we kissed? We’re not fags. We did it for Mandy!” “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
Mark A. Roeder
122
“You’re damned right I’m right.” Billy paused. “You didn’t…like it or something did you?” he asked. “No!” “Okay, then. Enough said.” Billy stuck his thumb out at a passing car that kept right on going. He glared at it. It took us forty-five minutes to get a ride and that was with some old guy who smelled like broccoli. We rode with him a few miles up the road until he reached his turnoff. Then, we spent another half hour before we got another ride that took us back where we started. It was NOT an exciting time.
Orlando
I’ll be waiting. That’s what he’d said. Those words filled my mind, echoing off the insides of my skull. I lay in bed, clad only in boxers, with my fingers interlinked behind my head. What had happened? What had Kerry done to me? I could still see him in my mind: Kerry with that ever so slight, knowing smile; Kerry naked; Kerry beckoning me to join him in…who knew what? You know, Orlando, you aren’t that naïve, I thought to myself. The image of Kerry’s naked body filled my mind—his chest, his tight abdomen, his butt, his…My groin stirred with my thoughts. I had an overpowering urge to whack myself off, but I fought it. Not this time, I told myself. This is different. This wasn’t like all the times I’d stroked myself while thinking about girls. No, this wasn’t like that at all. Where were these feelings coming from? They couldn’t have just appeared out of thin air and yet, that’s what it felt like. It was as if Kerry had bewitched me, cast some sort of spell upon me that drew me to him. I searched my mind. This was a time to be honest with myself. This was a time when I had to look in the mirror without flinching, without trying to delude myself or lie to myself. Such powerful emotions and desires as I was feeling couldn’t possibly just spring up out of nothingness, so they must’ve come from somewhere. Had this been buried deep inside me all along? Had it remained hidden or dormant, just waiting to come out? My attraction to girls was real, of that there was no doubt. How many times had the sight of a hot babe nearly driven me to insanity with desire, lust, and longing? There was an emotional link there, too, like with Krista. I had feelings - 123 -
Mark A. Roeder
124
for her that weren’t based on mere physical need. I hadn’t been fooling myself about girls so there was no need to debate it. My manhood was like a yardstick of attraction, and it stood at full attention when I thought of girls. But now, it’d done the same with a boy, with Kerry. When I was in the lake with him, I’d been as hard as I’d ever been around a girl. Kerry was definitely no girl, so what the fuck was up? Had this happened to me before? Was there some episode in my past that I’d blocked from my mind for self-preservation? I concentrated hard on remembering, striving to dredge up memories of being excited by boys. I’d had plenty of guys as friends. I’d spent loads of time with them. But, I couldn’t recall being attracted to them. I liked to wrestle with other boys. Did that mean anything? I liked the struggle, the feel of resistance, and the power of my own muscles, but did this constitute sexual attraction? I did know a good-looking boy from a not-so-good-looking one, but did that really mean anything? So, I recognized that some boys were handsome. Couldn’t all guys tell the difference? I’d heard some boys being cruelly teased because their ears stuck out, their nose was too big or they were just plain ugly. Surely, the guys teasing them had some sense of male beauty. There were guys I admired—actors, musicians, and athletes and even some guys at school. Some of that admiration was based on looks, particularly muscles. My own build was okay, but I didn’t have the thick muscles of some of my classmates. I admired them for their muscles, because being stronger was something I aspired to, but did that admiration mean more than it seemed? I couldn’t recall having a single crush on a boy, although I could remember plenty of crushes on girls. Could I have successfully blocked all such memories? It seemed unlikely. I didn’t want to be gay. I didn’t want to be sexually attracted to other boys. But, I was sincerely trying to be honest with myself, and I wasn’t turning up any past evidence of queerness. I’d thumbed through Men’s Fitness and magazines like it, but I hadn’t ogled the models. I’d looked at them and thought: That’s how I want to look. I’d desired not their bodies, but for my body to look like theirs. Weren’t most guys like that? If that was being gay, than just about every boy out there was queer. I thought of my closest, most intimate friendships with boys, but none of them crossed the line. I’d slept in the same bed with other boys and even in the tight quarters of the same sleeping bag. I couldn’t recall any attraction, nor the least yearning. There was just no evidence I was queer—none. I’d been friends with Eddie forever. I loved him, I really did, but it wasn’t romantic love. It was friendship love. I’d seen him without a shirt more times
Mark A. Roeder
125
than I could count. I’d seen him naked quite a few times, too, but I couldn’t remember any sexual attraction. I just didn’t think of him like that. If I was queer, wouldn’t something have come out of that closeness? Nothing seemed to add up. But what about Kerry? I’d experienced an attraction to him, an attraction so powerful that just an hour before I’d come to a razor’s edge of just pouncing on him. As he stood there, so inviting, he had no idea how close I was to giving in to my desires. I was poised on the brink. I nearly, very nearly, reached out and grasped his dick. That’s what I wanted, that and more. I wanted to sink to my knees before him and… It was far too disturbing to think about. This honesty was too intense. I couldn’t just let it lie, however. The emotions, the yearnings and the desires Kerry had drawn out of me were real and I had to deal with them. I’d wanted him—that was for sure. I still did. That’s what disturbed me. Seemingly, from out of nowhere, came an overpowering desire to have sex with Kerry, to do everything imaginable with him. How could it be so, however? There was no denying the attraction, the desire, the pure animal lust, but where did it come from? Was my own virginity the answer? Had my sexual needs been pent up for so long that they surged forth at the appearance of the first willing partner? Kerry was willing. He intentionally tempted me. He flaunted himself in front of me and he’d been doing it since the moment we met. I realized that now. I’ll be waiting. Had my subconscious seen the green light and pushed me ahead, even though Kerry was a male? I had plenty of questions, but no answers. I had the feeling that several years of psychoanalysis would bring me no closer to a conclusion. I couldn’t think about it anymore. I just couldn’t. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but I tossed and turned. It was hours before I finally lost consciousness. In the morning, I awoke with my boxers stuck to my crotch. I’ll be waiting. ✶
✶
✶
✶
The merry-go-round went around and around, in a never-ending circle, not unlike my own thoughts. Toby was laughing with Krista over some joke I’d been too preoccupied to hear. I was glad to be in Phantom World. Work was a distraction, a reality that forced my thoughts outward, at least part of the time. I needed to escape from my own mind, and my job lent me aid. “Lunch vote,” said Krista. “What does everyone want to eat?”
Mark A. Roeder
126
“Chicken nuggets,” announced Toby without thinking. “I love that honey-mustard sauce.” “Orlando?” “Huh? Oh, that sounds good.” Krista peered at me, a concerned look gliding across her features. “I could go for that, so I guess chicken nuggets it is,” she said. “Yes!” said Toby. I looked at Toby. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t noticed his face. His right eye was blackened and he had a bruise on his cheek. “Dude, what happened to you?” I asked. “Fight,” he said. “You should see the other guy.” “What was it about?” Toby hesitated. “It was about Krista. I said she was the prettiest girl in the world, and the other guy, well, he said she was only the second prettiest.” “Awww,” said Krista, mussing his hair. Did Toby have a crush on my girlfriend? I suspected it more than ever. I had no worries there, however, as Krista had already told me she thought of Toby as a little brother. Brother. When Krista looked at me, I saw her brother. They looked too much alike, but then again, they were twins. It was almost as if he were inside of her, peering at me through her eyes, but how could he be when he was so firmly planted inside my own head? “Are you okay?” asked Krista. “Yeah, just a little…distracted. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I wondered if she knew I’d been out with Kerry, but surely he wouldn’t have told her. She said nothing about it, so I figured not. I looked at Toby. He seemed in good spirits for someone who’d recently been beaten up, but then again, I’d been pounded a couple of times with no lingering effects. Or maybe he was just putting up a brave front. Now that I thought about it, his humor did seem a little forced. I had too much on my mind to worry about Toby. The sight of Krista was a firm reminder of my troubles. How could I possibly be attracted to Kerry, her very own brother? How could I have been thinking about having sex with him when I was dating his sister? It was nearly incestuous. Was I going out of my mind? I was falling for Krista hard and fast. I really was. Did I love her? I wasn’t quite sure. I didn’t know enough about love to be certain. I loved the time I spent with
Mark A. Roeder
127
her. I loved kissing her. Just looking at her made me happy, and it aroused me too. How could I even think about her brother when I felt this way about her? Life wasn’t like the movies. In films, there were the good guys and the bad guys. Sometimes the bad guys acted like the good guys, or some twist in the plot made the good guys appear to be bad for a while, but in the end it was all pretty black and white. I was in some kind of weird gray area that wasn’t even supposed to exist. I was a nice guy, really, so how could I be having the thoughts I was having? For the first time in my life I had a girl I really cared about. How could I even consider getting it on with her brother? It was crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about Kerry, or myself. How could I be gay? Okay, I guess the term was bi, since I obviously liked girls, but still…everyone knew what gay guys were like: They were soft, weak, girl-like. That wasn’t me. Maybe I was different because I was bi, if that’s what I was. Maybe bi guys kind of fell in between gay and straight guys. Maybe their mannerisms weren’t as pronounced. I felt like screaming. There were way too many questions in my head. Krista gave me a reassuring kiss on the way to lunch a couple of hours later. She took my hand and held it. Toby eyed us, but didn’t say anything. If he was jealous, he was dealing with it. That was a good thing. I didn’t need more complications in my life. Kerry showed up while we were feasting on chicken nuggets. His eyes locked meaningfully onto mine. I felt his spell ensnaring me. I had the strongest urge to get up and kiss him, right there in front of Krista, Toby, and everyone. Kerry pierced me with his eyes. He knew what he was doing to me. He knew it. He was the Devil and I had to resist him. The trouble was I didn’t know if I had the willpower. I’ll be waiting. ✶
✶
✶
✶
Gene’s truck was parked outside once more when I got home from work. I was neither thrilled nor surprised. He was always around. The more time I spent with him, the less I liked him. I kept my trap shut about it, however, because Mom obviously saw something in him or she wouldn’t be dating him. What that something was, I couldn’t begin to guess. Mom had been alone for a long time. I knew what it felt like to be lonely. I had friends, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. Eddie was always there for me, in a way, but even he wasn’t enough. I felt the need for more intimate companionship and I knew that’s what Mom felt, too. Mom had friends—and me—but she
Mark A. Roeder
128
needed something more: a soul mate. I felt guilty for thinking it, but I sure hoped it didn’t turn out to be Gene. Gene was sprawled out on the couch like he owned the place. It ticked me off, but was I being fair? If Eddie was lying there in exactly the same way, I wouldn’t have thought anything about it. Maybe I needed to try to be a little more objective. “Hi,” said Gene. “Hey.” I made for the stairs, but Gene grabbed my wrist as I walked past. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t say anything. “How are things going with that girlfriend of yours, Karen, Carmen?” “Krista,” I corrected. Gee, did Mom tell him everything? “Yeah, that’s right.” “Things are going just fine with her.” “Maybe we should have a little talk.” “A talk?” I asked. “Yeah, your Mom tells me you haven’t dated before. There’s some…” “Quit trying to act like my dad,” I said. Gene was pissing me off. “You need to start showing me a little respect, boy.” “You need to earn it.” Gene didn’t like that at all. He was ugly when he got angry. He was all smiles around Mom, but his mask was slipping in front of me. “Listen, when I marry your Mom, I’m going to be your dad, whether you like it or not. Things are going to change around here. Your mother lets you get away with murder. If you expect to have an allowance or…” “I make my own money, thanks.” “I don’t like your attitude,” said Gene. His face contorted into a snarl. “And I don’t like yours!” “Don’t raise your voice to me!” “I’ll raise my voice if I damned well please!” Gene grabbed my wrist again. Anger filled his eyes and he was breathing kind of hard. “Get your hands off me!” I shouted, trying to push him away. That’s when he hit me. He actually punched me in the face. It surprised me. Instead of hitting him back, I just stood there looking at him blankly. Mom had come out of the kitchen by that time, too, no doubt worried about us shouting at each other. I didn’t know how long she’d been there. I shot Gene a look and
Mark A. Roeder
129
stomped up the stairs. I slammed the door to my room and threw myself on my bed. I was steaming. My jaw hurt where Gene had belted me, but the fact that he’d actually hit me is what pissed me off. I would’ve laid into him, even though he was bigger and would no doubt have kicked my butt, but I didn’t want to put Mom through that. The last thing she needed to see was her son and boyfriend in a fist fight. There was a knock at my door after a few minutes. “Orlando, may I come in?” It was Mom. “Yeah.” I sat up on the bed as she opened the door. “Are you all right, honey?” “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to…” “Shhhh,” she said, putting a finger over my lips. “Gene’s gone. I asked him to leave.” “Leave?” “Yes, leave and not come back. I won’t have a man around who is going to treat my son like that.” “I don’t want you to give him up on my account. I know you need someone, Mom.” “I don’t need someone like that. There’s no excuse for such violence.” Mom took my chin in her hand and moved my head around while she looked at my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah. It didn’t hurt that much. I was more shocked than anything. I didn’t think he’d just up and belt me.” Mom pulled me to her and held me. “I’m sorry I messed things up for you,” I said, almost crying because I knew how lonely Mom got. “Hey, you didn’t mess up anything. You did me a favor. I would have found out about his temper sooner or later, and sooner is better. I don’t want a man who loses control so easily.” “I wish you could find someone nice,” I said. “Me too, baby, but nice guys are hard to come by. That’s why you’re going to be quite a catch for some girl. Not only are you talented and the most handsome boy in the world, you’re also sweet and kind.” I laughed. “I think you’re biased, Mom.”
Mark A. Roeder
130
“Of course I am. I’m your mother. Now, why don’t you come down and help me eat the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn I just spent an hour preparing. We can’t let it go to waste. There’s apple pie, too.” I smiled and hugged Mom again. “I love you,” I said. “I just want you to be happy.” “I love you, too, Orlando. And I want the same for you.” I followed her down to the kitchen, feeling better about everything, except my attraction to Kerry.
Toby
I considered telling Mackenzie it was his buddy, Billy, who jumped me and beat the crap out of me, but I didn’t want to have to explain what I was doing at The Grove. I had to live in the very same room as my little brother, and I didn’t want him freaking out because I was gay. For all I knew, he might think I was checking him out or something. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth, but that wouldn’t stop him from thinking it. He might tell Mom and Dad, too, and I just wasn’t ready for my parents to know that about me. They’d go through the roof for sure if they knew I’d gone to meet someone off the internet. I was already at Phantom World before it dawned on me I should’ve e-mailed Spike with an apology. He’d snuck out while grounded, putting himself at risk of getting in further trouble, and I’d stood him up. I had good reason, of course, but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t sitting there in his car for a long time waiting on me. I was almost glad he stood me up the first time, as it would be harder for him to be mad at me about this one. I’d e-mail him with an apology as soon as I got home. Billy. He really pissed me off. I sure didn’t enjoy getting my butt kicked, but he’d also kept me from Spike. Oddly enough, that’s what upset me the most. I had plans for Spike. I felt like I’d been waiting to meet another gay boy forever, and Billy screwed it up. I wished Avery had kicked his ass. At least he gave him one good punch and from the sound of Billy’s groan, it was in the stomach. It served him right, but he should’ve gotten more. I was kind of afraid Billy would come after me again, but he could hardly beat me up in my own house. My parents were usually there and if he tried something - 131 -
Mark A. Roeder
132
like that he’d be banned for life. I was safe at work, too, because there were so many people around, and there was security. I doubted he’d go to the trouble of ambushing me, so the only real danger was in meeting up with him somewhere isolated when I was alone. That wasn’t likely. What happened at The Grove was a freak accident. I also took some comfort from the defense plan I’d thought up. It was simple and almost foolproof. I just wish I would’ve thought of it when he jumped me. If Billy came after me again I was gonna kick him right in the nuts, and I was gonna do it as hard as I could. I didn’t care if it meant he could never have kids. His kind didn’t need to reproduce anyway. I had lunch with Krista and Orlando. They were reading Robert Frost poems to each other. It was kind of sappy, really, and I felt a bit embarrassed for them, but they were happy, so who really cared? I did kind of like Nothing Gold Can Stay when Orlando read it. It was kind of sad and hopeful at the same time. It was sad, because it basically said that nothing lasts, especially good things, but then it’s talking about the dawn, which will come again tomorrow, even though the poem doesn’t mention that. So, even though good stuff doesn’t last, there’s always more to come, so that’s what made me think the poem was hopeful, as well as sad. I wondered what tomorrow, or later today for that matter, held for me. After lunch, we each went our separate ways. Krista was scheduled to work in the donut booth, and Orlando was handling cotton candy. I was assigned to the Phantom World Railroad where I’d started out my career in the park. I heard the sound of the steam whistle even before I drew near. There was quite a line at the station, but each car held a number of people, so the wait probably wouldn’t be too bad. That didn’t really matter all that much to me, since I wasn’t going to be riding anyway. I’d barely started my shift when C.T. came running up, all out of breath, dragging another park employee I didn’t know behind him. “Toby, come on! Come with me!” “I’m just starting my shift.” “This is Jake. He’s off the rest of the day. He’s filling in for you.” “What? Why? What’s going on?” “Just trust me. Come on!” C.T. literally dragged me off the station platform, much to the amusement of the guests. He pulled me most of the way across the park to the amphitheatre near the Ghost Pirates ride. As we drew closer, I could hear loud and familiar music playing. Lots of people were headed for the amphitheatre. It seemed like almost everyone in the park was rushing toward it.
Mark A. Roeder
133
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I listened some more. There was no doubt. “That’s Phantom!” I cried. “Yes!” “They’re really here?” “Yes! I was just going on my lunch break and I heard Misunderstanding. I knew it was them!” “Shit. Were they supposed to be here?” “No one said anything.” Thanks to our staff shirts, we went around back and walked right up to the backstage area. I felt weak in the knees. “Oh, my God!” I said to C.T. “It’s him!” I couldn’t believe it; Jordan was standing there, singing, not twenty feet away. Mainly, I was looking at his back, but I could see the side of his face, too. He was beautiful. I just stood there in a trance as I listened. All my worries, fears, and doubts fled from me. I forgot about Orlando turning out to be straight. I forgot about Billy beating me. I forgot about everything. I felt like I was floating on air. I guess Robert Frost was right. “I didn’t think they’d sound this good in person,” said C.T. “Most groups don’t; everything’s fixed in a studio.” “Jordan’s the best singer in the whole world,” I said. “Now there’s an unbiased opinion,” giggled C.T. I could see Kieran playing his guitar on the other side of the stage. I wished I had half his talent. Ross was closest to me, about six feet away. I could practically reach out and touch him. He even looked back in my direction once and smiled at me! I about melted. My eyes were on Jordan most of the time. He played his keyboard and sang like an angel. He was the most beautiful young man I’d ever seen in my entire life. There was a lot more to people than their looks, but I could’ve just stood there and gazed at him forever. I desperately wanted to meet Jordan and maybe get his autograph, but after Phantom finished their last song, Do You Know That I Love You, all three of them headed off stage in the opposite direction. “Ross!” yelled C.T. Ross turned and actually walked toward us. I was almost speechless. “Oh my God!” I said. “I love your music.” “Thanks, dude,” said Ross, flicking the hair out of his face.
Mark A. Roeder
134
I got all tongue-tied, but managed to blurt out, “Can you have my autograph?” I felt like a fool, but Ross laughed. C.T. handed him a Sharpie, and Ross signed one of his drumsticks and gave it to me. He gave the other one to C.T. “Sorry guys, but I have to run. My ride’s leaving,” said Ross. He turned and hurried to catch up to Jordan and Kieran. A grim-looking man with dark sunglasses followed him. He must’ve been his bodyguard. “I told you to trust me,” said C.T. smiling. I grabbed him and hugged him. I very nearly kissed him. “Thanks so much. C.T.! You made my life!” “Ohhh, does that make you my slave now?” “Yes!” I was so elated I thought I could fly. “Hey, I’ve got to get back to work. I’m due at the bumper cars in five minutes,” said C.T. “I’ll walk with you,” I said. I had plenty of free time, since I’d traded with Jake. I’d have to see when he wanted me to cover for him. He was another one I owed big-time. C.T. and I walked along talking excitedly, clutching our drumsticks in our hands. C.T. seemed almost as excited as I was, which was a near impossibility. “Not that I’m complaining, not in the least,” I said, “but if only I could’ve met Jordan; that’s like my life-long dream.” “Hey,” said a vaguely familiar voice behind me. I turned and recognized the owner of the voice immediately. “Hey, Avery.” I smiled broadly, remembering how Avery saved my butt. “Hey,” said C.T. “Avery, this is C.T,” I said. They shook hands. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” said Avery, “but I overheard what you said about meeting Jordan.” “Yeah?” I said, feeling just a touch embarrassed. Avery probably thought I was some obsessed kid, which maybe I was. “If you’d really like to meet him, I can arrange it.” “Funny!” I said. “No, really.” Avery appeared to be sincere, but it seemed almost impossible. “You know Jordan?” “Yeah, he’s kind of a friend of a friend. I actually know Ross better. Anyway, I’m going out to see Ross tonight, and Jordan will be there, so if you’d like to come…” “Oh my God, you aren’t really serious are you?” I asked.
Mark A. Roeder
135
“Of course I’m serious.” “I’d LOVE to come. Can C.T. come, too?” “Sure, but don’t invite anyone else, I don’t drive a bus.” I simply could not believe it. This day just kept getting better and better. If I would’ve known this was coming, I’d have been smiling last night as Billy was beating me. “When do you get off?” asked Avery. “I’m off now,” I said. “I get off at five,” said C.T. “Great. Can you guys meet me in the employee lounge a little after five then?” “Sure thing. You are serious, right?” I asked again. “This isn’t come kind of joke?” “I’m serious. I wouldn’t mess with you about something like this.” “Awesome!” “Cool, I gotta run, but I’ll see you then.” Avery trotted away, quickly leaving us behind. My head was spinning. I simply could not believe it. C.T. took the path to the bumper cars. I walked around just a bit and then rode my bike home. I sent Spike an e-mail explaining why I’d stood him up. I apologized and asked him to forgive me. I also told him I wouldn’t be online that night because I was going to be doing something. I didn’t tell him what, because I didn’t think he would’ve believed me. ✶
✶
✶
✶
I was all shaky with nerves as I sat beside Avery in his teal Chevy S-10. C.T. was on my other side and we were a little scrunched in. I couldn’t believe I was on my way to meet Jordan. I was actually going to be in the same room with him. I was actually going to get to talk to him. He’d be looking at me with those beautiful blue-green eyes of his. How many times had I peered at those eyes? How many hundreds of Phantom photos had I gazed at over the years? And now, those eyes would be looking back at me. It seemed unreal. Jordan was bigger than life. He was a rock star. He was the rock star. He was someone you saw on TV, not in person, and I was going to be hanging out with him. It was too good to be true. I had no reason not to trust Avery, but a little part of my mind still feared this was all some horrible joke. Either that or I was dreaming; that was the real danger. I’d had some Jordan dreams before. In one,
Mark A. Roeder
136
I’d actually kissed him. I loved those dreams, but it was always such a disappointment to wake up. Please, please let this be real, I silently prayed. “Where exactly are we going?” I asked. “To a farm, it’s owned by the parents of Jordan’s boyfriend. They’re all staying there for a couple of days.” “Cool. Is it far?” “Not far at all.” In just a few minutes, we were following a winding, gravel drive up to a large, two-story farmhouse. There was a pickup sitting outside as well as a big Buick LeSabre, but there was nothing to indicate rock stars were in the old house. I scooted out of the truck nervously and followed Avery up the walk. We walked around the back of the house and entered the kitchen. An older couple greeted us. They weren’t real old, probably in their 40s or 50s and I guessed they were Ralph’s parents. I’d read about Ralph, Jordan’s long-time boyfriend. I’d always thought it was cool he was from my area, but I never knew exactly where he lived. I saw Kieran first. He walked into the kitchen and greeted Avery. There was no doubt about it, Avery knew Phantom. It kind of blew my mind. Avery introduced C.T. and me to Kieran. I felt a shiver pass up my spine as I shook Kieran’s hand. It was suddenly hard to speak, but I did manage to tell him I loved his music. He was so nice to us it put me at ease. “Hey, I could use some hot tea,” said a voice approaching from the next room. I recognized it. Oh, God, it was him! In moments, he’d stepped into the kitchen and I just stared. He was wearing a white tank-top and sleek black Umbros. I’d never seen such a sexy guy in all my life. He was absolutely beautiful. The mere sight of his long, blond hair made my heart race. There was some conversation between Jordan and Ralph’s mom, and then he and Avery were talking, but the words were all jumbled in my mind. Before I knew it, Avery was introducing Jordan to C.T. and me. C.T. smiled and shook his hand, looking all cool and calm. I was a nervous wreck. I was trembling so violently I was sure everyone could see it. I know Jordan could feel it when I reached out to shake his hand. I finally managed to make my voice work,” Hi, I’m…I’m…” I couldn’t believe it. I’d actually forgotten my own name. I seriously couldn’t remember it. I was overwhelmed. Jordan gazed at me with those beautiful eyes of his. Everything went kind of dark and I felt myself falling.
Mark A. Roeder
137
I opened my eyes with no idea how much time had passed. Everything was blurry for a few moments. I was seated at the kitchen table. Someone was holding a wet washcloth to my forehead. I looked up to see who it was and it was him. Embarrassment flooded me. Had I really passed out? I looked around. The room had cleared out. It was only Jordan, Ralph’s mom and me. I covered my face with my hands and mumbled, “I’m so embarrassed.” “Don’t be,” said Jordan. “It’s okay.” I lowered my hands. Jordan was looking at me with concern on his face. “I’m Toby,” I said, finally remembering my name. “It’s nice to meet you, Toby.” “So, am I the first person to ever pass out when he met you?” “Actually, no,” Jordan grinned. That made me feel a little better. Ralph’s mom gave me a cup of hot maple tea. It helped to calm my nerves. I was still kind of shaky being so close to Jordan. “I love your music,” I said. “Sometimes, when I get really sad, I can listen to it, and it makes me feel good. I’ve got all your CDs. I want to be a singer myself— not like in a rock band, but in musicals and stuff. I like acting in plays. I’m thinking I want to go to school for theatre. I love performing, being someone else for a little while.” “I’d like to do some acting,” said Jordan. “I think that would be totally cool. I don’t think I have the talent to act, though.” “But, I’ve seen you on some shows, and you were good!” Jordan laughed. “Well, those are just little appearances and I’m usually playing myself, so there’s not much acting involved.” Jordan sat down near me and we talked and sipped tea. Jordan was really nice. C.T., Avery, and Kieran returned and joined us at the table. Mercifully, none of them mentioned me passing out. What really struck me as I sat there was that Jordan and Kieran talked just like real people. I mean, I know they’re real, but we got to talking about stuff like playing Roller Coaster Tycoon and stuff like that. I expected them to talk about stuff like…I dunno…hanging out with movie stars and buying helicopters or something like that. They seemed so normal. Jordan was really big into Roller Coaster Tycoon, which was kind of funny since he owned his own amusement park. “Hey, Jordan,” I said, “did you buy Mystic Gardens and turn it into Phantom World because you liked playing Roller Coaster Tycoon so much?” “Well, kind of. We bought it, actually, Kieran, Ross, and I. I’ve always loved amusement parks and I found out Mystic Gardens was going under. It seemed such a shame. Ralph had taken me there, and it was a blast. The owners were
Mark A. Roeder
138
practically begging for someone to step in and save it. I got to thinking about it and thought, what the heck?” Ralph entered the room, hugged Jordan from behind, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Avery introduced us. Ralph seemed really nice, but almost too plain to be Jordan’s boyfriend. I’m not knocking him, but you’d think a rock star would date someone glamorous, some actor or someone. I liked Jordan better for not dating someone like that. I admired him for choosing an Indiana farm boy, instead of some movie star. It said a lot about him. After all, Jordan could’ve had anyone he wanted, I’m sure. Hell, I think straight guys would’ve dated Jordan. Two more guys came into the room. They were college age, like Avery. He introduced them. Their names were Sean and Nick. I watched them some as we all sat there talking. They were leaning against the kitchen cabinets, and Sean had his arm around Nick’s waist. There was no doubt about it. They were a couple. “How’re Ethan and Nathan doing?” asked Jordan. “They’re getting along just fine,” said Sean. “We’re really busy. Nick and I almost couldn’t get away to come down and see you guys.” I didn’t know any of the people they were talking about, but that was okay. The house vibrated with the sound of someone thundering down the stairs, yelling “I’m having a pie attack!” “Brace yourself,” said Kieran. “You’re about to experience Ross.” I grinned. He said it like Ross was a hurricane, which I soon learned wasn’t so very far from the truth. In moments, Ross came bolting into the kitchen. He slid across the floor in his sock covered feet to announce, “I’m starving!” “There’s some apple and some pecan pie on the counter,” said Ralph’s mom, unperturbed. “Ohhh, fresh meat!” said Ross, looking at C.T. and me. “You guys play Risk?” “Um, yeah,” I said. Ross kind of shocked me with the way he just started in, skipping all the introductions. Of course, he had met us briefly at the park, but I doubted he even remembered us. He probably met thousands of people. Ross had a mischievous glint in his eye that made me smile. “Oh yeah!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “After I’m done with pie, we gotta play!” “Ross is on another Risk binge,” said Kieran. “This happens every few weeks. Just humor him.” Ross shot Kieran a mischievous glance, but said nothing. He looked like he was ready to explode with excess energy. I’d always wondered if his public personality wasn’t all just an act, but it was obviously quite real. If anything, he was wilder in person. Ross was a nut.
Mark A. Roeder
139
If anyone had told me a week before that I’d be sitting around a kitchen table playing Risk with Phantom, I’d have thought they were out of their minds, but that’s just what we did. They were ruthless players. Ross weakened me to the point of annihilation and then forced me to be his ally. He tried the same with Kieran, but he wouldn’t bow to the will of Ross, so Ross destroyed him. I giggled at the way Ross gleefully taunted Kieran and wickedly chuckled. He was totally into the game. Jordan, Ralph, Sean, Nick, and C.T. allied themselves and pounded Ross without mercy. Rather than face their wrath, I turned on Ross and helped to destroy him. When he was wiped out, he fell to the floor pretending to have a knife in his back. He jumped up laughing and proceeded to sow the seeds of discord among the remaining players. It was Ralph who won. He took me out with relative ease and then turned on his boyfriend. They might love each other, but Ralph and Jordan had no mercy on one another in the game. It was fun to see Ralph yell, “In your face!” at Jordan as he ripped up his empire. Sean and Nick held out longer, but Ralph was too powerful, and they fell to him as well. He smiled gleefully when he’d wiped us all off the board. C.T. and I got a chance to talk to Jordan all by ourselves for a while. Ralph was sitting there with us, too, but he didn’t seem to mind sharing his boyfriend. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” said C.T., “but you seem more normal than I was expecting.” Jordan laughed. “What were you expecting?” “I dunno. It’s kind cool to find out you’re not that different from us.” “Well, I am from the same planet,” said Jordan. “That’s debatable!” yelled Ross from the living room. “Shut up, Ross!” The sound of Ross laughing wafted into the kitchen. “I think what he means is that we see you on TV, doing talk shows and stuff like that,” I said. “I guess I kind of think of you as always doing that kind of thing, instead of playing Risk, or whatever.” “Well, even though we do a lot of appearances, that’s just a tiny part of our lives. When you think about it, less than 1% of our lives is spent in front of a TV camera. That’s the part you see, so that’s what you think we do. Most of the time Ross, Kieran, and I are working on new songs. Sometimes we’re in the recording studio, but most of our time is spent sitting in a room together working on lyrics and everything else that goes into a song. When we’re touring, we travel constantly, but even that’s only a few months out of the year, and we don’t tour
Mark A. Roeder
140
every year. I guess our lives aren’t quite normal, but they’re really not that different.” We sat around talking for a long time. Eventually, the whole household was sitting around the kitchen table talking about music, Phantom World, and everything else under the sun. It was the best night of my entire life. I planned to go home and write down everything about it before I had the chance to forget it. Before we left, the guys signed photos for C.T. and me. I even got to hug Jordan. “I can die happy now,” I told C.T. as we left.
Mackenzie
I was getting bored with the whole Toby/Spike thing. It was fun for a while, but then the new wore off. I felt bad about what we’d done to Toby, too. I didn’t mind making fun of him or calling him names to his face, but I wasn’t out to hurt his feelings by making him think he had some kind of boyfriend when he didn’t. Billy was all for continuing, however. I don’t know what the big deal was with him talking to my brother on the internet. It wasn’t that fun. I would’ve thought Billy would tire of it faster than I had, but he seemed to find it irresistibly entertaining. Sometimes, it was all he’d talk about. I was getting tired of hearing about my brother, but I didn’t want to say anything to Billy. If I did, he might think I was no longer cool. Billy was my ticket in. He was in at school, so if he was my friend, I’d be in too. I didn’t want to be like my brother, a virtual social outcast. Toby didn’t even seem to know it, but he wasn’t cool. There was something wrong with him. He didn’t follow the rules. He wasn’t into sports and he wasn’t into girls. Sure, he was gay, but he could’ve at least pretended. Not acting like he was interested in girls was just asking for trouble. That’s probably why he’d been jumped. Of all people, Toby needed to put up a front. Being in all those plays and singing were enough to make anyone doubt his sexual orientation. Toby had lots of friends who were girls, but he was like one of ’em or something. He was a freak. I was smarter than my brother. Even if I was a queer, I would’ve had the good sense to hide it better. I wouldn’t be prancing around on some stage, and I would’ve had a girlfriend for sure. I wasn’t gay, though, not in the least. There
- 141 -
Mark A. Roeder
142
wasn’t a queer bone in my body. I guess Toby had sucked up all the queer genes when he was born and that was fine by me. Billy was the key to everything. Hell, he’d even got me my first time with a girl, and a college girl at that! If I stuck with him, who knew what doors would open for me? I’d always been liked well enough by the other guys, but had never been quite able to make it over that line into true popularity. Billy could pull me right over. If word got out that Toby was queer, I’d need Billy all the more. He was the only thing that could save me from going down with my brother. ✶
✶
✶
✶
“You up for some fun?” asked Billy. “Yeah,” I said. Mom was baking some cookies as I stood in the kitchen, attached to the phone. “I mean some real fun—with a girl.” “Really?” “Would I lead you wrong?” “So, who?” I asked. I carefully censored my conversation. I didn’t want Mom hearing anything that might incriminate me. “Tami Sterling.” “Are you serious?” Tami Sterling was hot. When school ended, she’d been dating Ben Hunter, the hotshot captain of the junior-varsity football team. “Uh huh. I told her about what happened with Mandy, and it turned her on.” “You told her?” I asked. “Everything?” “Yes.” “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that.” I looked nervously over at my mother, but she didn’t seem to be paying much attention. “Relax, dude, Tami will keep quiet.” “You shouldn’t have done that.” I wanted to go off on him, but I sure couldn’t with Mom right there. “Hey, I’m as much at risk as you are and I’m telling you, there’s no risk. Tami’s cool.” I was pissed. Billy had promised to keep what happened with us and Mandy a secret and now he’d gone and blabbed it to Tami. What if she spread it around? That’s just what I needed, word getting out that I’d kissed a boy. I’d be marked as a queer, and it wouldn’t matter that I was totally innocent. I could just see it
Mark A. Roeder
143
now. Word would get out that I’d kissed Billy and then Toby would be outed, and everyone would assume we did it together. Barf! I didn’t say anything, so Billy went on. “Listen, dude, we’re gonna score this time. Tami wants to see us together, and she’ll do us both, man. I’m talking all the way.” All the way with Tami Sterling? The mere thought made my pants dance. I turned away from Mom so she wouldn’t notice the bulge forming in my shorts. “See us?” I asked, frowning. Billy’s words finally pierced my daydream of getting it on with Tami. “Yeah, like with Mandy. She wants to see some boy-on-boy action to get her hot.” “Dude, I dunno…” “Come on, Mackenzie, it’s no big deal. You’ve done it before. It’ll be just like last time, only this time we get more.” The thought of Tami was powerfully tempting. She was hot. I’d had some fantasies about her, but I never thought I’d get her. Word was she could be had, but not by just anyone. She usually went for jocks. “So, you in, dude? You gotta be in. Without you nothin’ is going down. She’s made it clear. It’s either both of us or neither of us. Come on, man. You know you want her.” “Yeah,” I said. “Okay.” I knew it was a mistake, but my balls had taken command of my decision-making process. They were in full control. “Okay, dude, I’ll be over in an hour and then we’ll go to Tami’s. Her parents won’t be home for two whole days,” said Billy excitedly. I hung up the phone and left the kitchen facing away from Mom. My shorts were about to rip from the strain. ✶
✶
✶
✶
My stomach did flip-flops as I sat on the couch beside Billy, across from Tami Sterling. She was so incredible—sex on legs! She was about seventeen and had beautiful brown hair and eyes. What I and every other boy noticed most about her was her boobs. She had one of the biggest pair around. She made me drool. She was talking with Billy about school, as if she hadn’t invited us over to have sex. I was eager to get things started, mainly because I was so worked up I was about to lose control in my shorts, but also because I was so nervous I thought I might hurl. The whole thing about Billy and me having to do something before Tami would sleep with us was just too much. Were all girls such freaks about
Mark A. Roeder
144
watching boys make out? I thought it was only guys that got off on such things, like two girls going at it. I could understand the attraction of that, so I guess I had to acknowledge that two boys kissing might be hot to a girl. I figured it was some kind of display of boy-ness or something like that. Billy got up off the couch and sat on the arm of Tami’s chair. He leaned over to kiss her, but she wasn’t having any of that. She pushed her hand against his chest and kept him from getting near. “I want to see some action first,” she said. She was very direct. I admired her boldness. I would’ve never had the nerve. Then again, she was in complete control and she knew it. Billy looked at me and shrugged and then joined me again on the couch, this time facing me as I sat there looking at Tami. Man, she was hot. I slowly turned my head and looked at Billy. He was gazing at me. He licked his lips. “Okay,” said Tami, “let me see you two kiss.” I hesitated, but Billy urged me on with his eyes. He seemed to be saying, ‘It won’t be so bad. Just like last time, then we can have her.’ “We’re not gay,” I said, turning my head toward Tami. “You know that right?” “Relax, Mackenzie, I know what you really want,” she said seductively. I let out a deep breath. She was driving me insane. Did all girls have that kind of power over boys, or was it just Tami? I faced Billy. I leaned in and closed my eyes, letting Billy do the work. I’d devised a new plan on the way over. I was going to keep my eyes closed as much as I could and pretend it was a girl I was kissing. I’d put Billy right out of my mind and pretend I was already kissing Tami or maybe Mandy again. I felt Billy’s lips touch mine. I felt the gentle suction as he kissed me. In a moment, his lips were pressed against mine once more and I moved mine around in response. I pictured Tami in my mind. “Open your mouths,” said Tami. “I want to see some tongue action. God, this is so hot.” Billy forced his tongue into my mouth. I parted my lips reluctantly and slid my tongue along his. Billy was leading me and that was best. That way, I didn’t have to think about things so much. I kept pretending Billy was a girl and it kinda worked. Reality kept slipping in, but mostly I kept up the illusion. It was like when I whacked off and pretended a girl was blowing me. Billy was kissing me hard. His tongue was all over the inside of my mouth. He was breathing hard. I sort of was, too. I didn’t want to be kissing Billy, but it
Mark A. Roeder
145
wasn’t all bad. I was getting off on Tami watching us. Something about that was exciting. “Take off your shirts, boys,” said Tami. Billy slowly pulled my shirt over my head and I took his off for him. I had to momentarily open my eyes while I was doing it and it was nearly a shock, seeing Billy bare-chested before me instead of a girl. Billy had a hungry look in his eyes. He was obviously turned on by Tami watching. “Feel each other,” said Tami. “You’re my slave boys and you have to do whatever I tell you.” This was getting kinky and I kind of liked it. I had no more interest in touching Billy than I had at the start, but Tami was getting me worked up. I’d fantasized about being some girl’s slave boy before. It was part of my wild and kinky side. If only it was Tami, me and another girl! Billy ran his hands all over my chest and stomach. He was feeling my butt, too. I touched his arms, chest, and stomach as well, but didn’t allow my fingers to get anywhere near his more private parts. That would’ve ruined the illusion for sure. “Come on, Billy, you know what I want to see,” said Tami. I felt him untying the string on my soccer shorts. I breathed faster with nerves. Billy was going to see I was excited. What if he thought I was excited over him? Would he tell me later we couldn’t be friends? When we were finished with Tami, would he turn on me and call me a queer? I peeked down at Billy’s crotch and saw that he was as stiff as he could get. That made me feel safer. He could hardly accuse me when he was excited, too. Besides, I was excited by Tami watching, and surely he understood that. Billy pushed my shorts down and I leaned up so he could get them off. I was sitting there in only my boxers, feeling completely naked already. “Go on, Billy, do it,” said Tami. I felt Billy grope me. He actually touched me, there. In spite of myself, I moaned. No one, except for Mandy and myself, had ever touched be there before. “Take it out.” My mind reeled as Billy pushed my boxers down. Now I was naked. I wanted to cover myself, but at the same time Tami watching had me totally turned on. “Mackenzie, you do it too.” I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. I pushed down Billy’s shorts, only to discover he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Tami commanded us to touch each other, so I did as I was told, even
Mark A. Roeder
146
though I was screaming NO! inside my head. It was all just wrong. When was I gonna get to touch Tami? That’s when I heard Tami say, “I want to see you suck him.” I kind of froze. This was going way too far. It was much worse than I’d imagined and was getting worse by the moment. “Mackenzie, I want to watch you blow Billy.” My eyes popped open and I stood up. “No! No way!” Billy said, “Mackenzie” in a long, sing-song kind of voice, as if saying, Come on, go along with this, we’re almost there. I couldn’t. Kissing Billy was bad enough. Touching him…down there was worse. But this…this was where I drew the line. It was unthinkable. “No! I’m not doing it. Nothing is worth that! It’s sick!” Tami looked disappointed and Billy angry. “Dude, you’re gonna blow this for us both,” he hissed, through clinched teeth. “I don’t care, man. This is too much.” Billy looked at Tami as if pleading with her to change the rules. She didn’t look in the mood to do so. Billy was getting desperate. He must’ve wanted her even worse than I thought. “How ’bout if I do him?” he asked at last. Tami mulled it over. “I guess…that would be okay.” Billy looked at me and I shook my head. “No, man, this is too screwed up.” “Come on,” said Billy, through clinched teeth once more. “If I’m willing, you should be, too.” I was keenly aware that I was standing there naked, my goods displayed for all to see. I grabbed my boxers and pulled them on, falling down onto the couch in the process. Billy kept saying, “Come on, Mackenzie,” as I pulled on my shorts and shoes. I grabbed my shirt and headed for the door without another word. I slammed it behind me. What a disaster! Not only had I participated in what could only be called gay sex, I hadn’t even gotten to touch Tami, and I’d blown my friendship with Billy. All my work was down the tubes, and all I had to show for it were memories that would probably take me a lifetime to erase. I felt like blowing my brains out. I began the long walk home. When I got there, I was going to take a shower. I was going to try and scrub all traces of what I’d done off me. I had the feeling that no matter how hard I scrubbed, I’d never feel clean again. The final embarrassment was that I was still excited. I’d found no release for all that pent-up sexual energy. I needed to relieve the pressure, but I was afraid of
Mark A. Roeder
147
doing so for fear of unwanted images entering my head. I’d never forget what had just happened—never. It had probably ruined sex for me for the rest of my life.
Orlando
“Man, that blows,” said Eddie. I’d just told him what happened with Gene. “At least he’s gone now.” “Yeah, and my mom’s all alone again.” “It’s not like that Gene was any good.” “No, but I wish she could find someone, anyone. You know, just some guy who would treat her nice and spend time with her.” Eddie sighed. “What’s the matter?” “Beth. She dumped my ass.” “Oh, man, I’m sorry.” “Thanks. She threw me over for some college guy. She said it was nothing against me. Yeah, right! There’s not a girl out there who wants me.” “They say there’s someone for everyone.” “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got Krista.” “Well, yeah, but I didn’t have anyone before her. Think about it, if I can get a girl, surely you can.” Eddie laughed feebly at my attempt at humor. “I’m just gettin’ real tired of bein’ alone,” said Eddie. “You’re a lot of fun and all, but I need somethin’ only a girl can give me.” “Like sex?” “Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant. I know you think I’m just a big horn-dog, but I have feelings ya know?” “I know,” I said quietly. - 148 -
Mark A. Roeder
149
“It just kinda hurts thinking that there isn’t anyone out there who wants me.” “I know this doesn’t help, but you’ll find someone.” “Hey, you know what? It doesn’t help! But, thanks for tryin’, man.” “No sweat.” “I feel like getting high to forget about my troubles,” said Eddie. He just sat there, not moving. “I thought you said…” “I get high for fun, not as an escape. I don’t want to end up like the old man, always drunk off his ass.” “Whoa, who would’ve thought? Eddie has self control.” “Shut up, man. Of course I do. I’m not a burnout; I just play one on TV.” We both laughed, but I could tell Eddie was really down. I hated seeing him like that. I wanted to help him, but, as Krista was my first girl, I’d never been dumped myself, so I didn’t have any worldly advice. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get in your Cutlass and cruise around town. We’ll find you a hot babe.” Eddie shook his head, but then smiled. “I guess it’s worth a try.” “Of course it is. You’ve got a lot to offer.” “Thanks, man.” ✶
✶
✶
✶
I sat with Krista on her front porch, the crickets serenading us with their song. My arm was around her and I held her close. She’d asked me to come home with her for supper. An internal battle had ensued, but the part of me fighting to say yes won in the end. What reason could I give for saying no? I had a reason—a huge reason, but I couldn’t voice it. What was I going to do: tell Krista I’d love to come, but I can’t because I have the hots for your brother and he’s trying to seduce me? I was nervous meeting Krista’s parents, but they took a liking to me. All went well with them. It was Kerry who was the problem. He kept catching my eyes and holding them, forcing me to look away. Each time I did, he smiled in triumph. He knew I wanted him. It was some kind of game for him. I wondered if this was what he did for fun. Did he set out to seduce boys just to see if he could? Was I a special prize because I was dating his sister? Did he do the same thing to girls, or was it just guys? I remembered the boy who’d almost come up to Kerry at Phantom World and it made me wonder. Had Kerry played his game with him?
Mark A. Roeder
150
Kerry played footsies with me during supper. He sat straight across from me and rubbed my foot with his own. It aroused me instantly, and Kerry grinned at me like he knew it. I kept my feet tucked back under the chair after a while. Kerry reveled in my discomfort. He kept working little incriminating hints into the conversation—nothing that really gave anything away, but things that increased my fear he’d reveal my secret. He said stuff like, I hear you really like swimming, Orlando; you find it stimulating, don’t you and so forth. I wanted to run away and, at the same time, I wanted to jump across the table and kiss him. Why was I so powerfully attracted to Kerry? I began to fear he’d blackmail me: threaten that if I didn’t do something with him he’d tell his sister. I doubted she’d believe him, though. I was being paranoid. I was letting Kerry mess with my head. Even sitting on the porch swing with Krista, I was aware of Kerry in the house. I knew he was in there, probably up in his room, maybe even taking a shower. Or, perhaps, he was on his bed, jerking it and thinking about me. The mere thought made my heart race. The phone rang inside and moments later Krista’s mom came out onto the porch and handed Krista the phone. “It’s Elsie. She sounds upset.” I could hear the sounds of crying on the other end of the phone. I didn’t know who Elsie was, but she was truly worked up about something. Krista disappeared inside for several moments and when she returned I heard her end the conversation with, “I’ll be over in just a minute.” “Problem?” I asked. “Yeah, Elsie, one of my friends. Her boyfriend just dumped her.” “Oh,” I said. There seemed to be a lot of that going around. “Listen, I need to go talk with her. She needs me. I can have Mom or Dad drive you home, you don’t mind, do you?” “I can drive him home,” said Kerry through the screen door. He’d appeared out of nowhere. Krista eyed him suspiciously. “Okay,” she said. “You don’t mind, do you?” Before I could answer, she’d given me a peck on the lips and was walking quickly down the street. Apparently, Elsie didn’t live far away. “I’ll get my keys,” said Kerry grinning. I must’ve looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car because that’s exactly how I felt. I had half a mind to just get up and run, but part of me wasn’t willing. Kerry was back in moments. I’d hesitated too long. “Come on,” he said.
Mark A. Roeder
151
He drove toward the outskirts of town. “This isn’t the way to my house,” I said. “I know.” As he drove, Kerry reached over and put his hand on my leg. Part of me wanted to jerk my leg away and part of me wanted to scoot closer. “Kerry…” Whatever I meant to say died on my lips as Kerry began to move his hand up and down my leg. I swallowed hard. As his hand dipped to my inner thigh and continued rubbing, I finally managed to make my voice work. “Kerry, stop.” “You don’t want me to stop,” he said. He peered at me for a moment. In the darkness, his eyes were like those of a tiger—no, like those of a wolf. “Stop,” I said, but there was no strength behind the word. It was meaningless. “Let’s see if you really want me to stop,” he said, sliding his hand right up on my crotch. I don’t think I’d ever been harder. “No, you don’t want me to stop, do you, Orlando?” He squeezed with his hand. Kerry smiled. He knew he had me. Kerry stopped the car in a deserted lane. I had no idea where we were. I hadn’t been paying attention. He scooted toward me, pulled me to him, and pressed his lips to mine. He kissed me and I kissed him back. It was as if a dam had burst. We devoured each other, our tongues entwining. All willpower left me. I surrendered to him. Kerry tugged at my shirt and ripped it over my head. I found myself pulling his shirt off as well, revealing his bulging muscles. He pushed my head down and I licked his chest. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like I had no control over my own body. I dove for his shorts. I impatiently pawed at them. Kerry held his hips up so I could get them off him. Kerry was big. I lowered my head into his lap. “Yeah, I knew you’d be a wild one,” croaked Kerry. I barely heard him. I was too intent on fulfilling my own desires. Something inside me had snapped. I just went for it. I’d never done it before, but I seemed to instinctively know how. After a few minutes, Kerry bucked in the seat a few times and moaned. I sat back in the seat once more. Kerry reached over and put his hand on my crotch. He drew it back smiling. He grinned at me. He knew I’d lost control while I was doing him. “Take me home,” I said, nearly in tears. Now that my lust had passed, the spell was broken. Shame, remorse, and confusion fell on me like a heavy blanket, shutting out all happiness and light.
Toby
I woke up smiling. I’d had the most incredible dream. It was like others I’d had about Phantom, but it seemed so much more real. C.T. was in it this time and…I looked over to my dresser. There was the photo that Jordan, Kieran, and Ross had signed for me. It wasn’t a dream. Holy crap! It was real! I stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I looked at myself in the mirror while the steam began to fog it up. A bruised face with a black eye stared back at me. I’d nearly forgotten. Phantom had wiped it from my mind. Events couldn’t have been timelier. If Phantom hadn’t shown up at the park, I would never have gotten to meet them. I’d probably have brooded over getting jumped by Billy. As it was, I had little time to think on it. Was it that big of a deal anyway? Billy was a jerk. I’d always known that. I just needed to make sure he didn’t catch me alone. That was all. There was no need to think and worry about it, so I wasn’t going to. I stripped off my boxers and stepped into the shower. The hot water sure felt good. I loved to get all soapy while hot water pounded down on me. I liked it so hot I nearly couldn’t take it, even in the summer. I showered, dried, dressed, grabbed a couple of donuts for breakfast and then rode my bike to the amusement park. I couldn’t wait to tell Krista and Orlando all about my night with Phantom. I wanted to talk to C.T., too, so I could relive those wondrous hours. I felt like I’d achieved a dream. At work, Orlando was strangely withdrawn and quiet. Even Krista couldn’t draw him out. She kept trying, but it just wasn’t working.
- 152 -
Mark A. Roeder
153
“I appreciate your concern,” Orlando finally told her, “but I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all. I just need to think.” We allowed him his space. “Guess who I was with last night,” I said. “Who?” asked Krista. “Phantom!” “Um…” Krista didn’t quite know what to say. I think she didn’t believe me, but was too polite to say so. “Really! I’m not making it up! I swear! You know they were here yesterday, right? Well, C.T. took me over to hear them sing, pulled me actually. I even got to talk to Ross for a second, and he gave C.T. and me signed drumsticks. Then, when C.T. and I were walking away, I was telling C.T. how badly I wanted to meet Jordan. Avery—he works here—but I don’t think you know him, overheard me and he said he knew Phantom and could take me to meet them! Well, he did! C.T. and I spent hours with them last night playing Risk and talking and just hanging out. I got their autographs and everything, and I’ll show you!” Krista laughed. “Don’t forget to breathe, Toby. That’s a wild story, but I don’t think you could fake being so excited.” My chest was heaving. I didn’t realize I’d given her such a rapid-fire, breathless account until I’d finished. I was grinning from ear to ear. “It was so incredible!” I said. “They were really nice, too—not like you’d expect. They don’t act like rock stars at all, just like guys. Well, Ross acts crazy, but that’s just how he is. He’s wild!” Krista listened attentively so I kept going on and on while we worked the Old Timers line. A lot of the guests were listening too. One asked, Was Phantom really here yesterday? and another said, You are so lucky! My head was spinning as I tried to recount every little detail I could remember. I was glad I’d written it all down after coming home the night before, because I was already getting confused on the order of events. Orlando didn’t seem to hear me. I hoped he was okay. He just kind of looked off into the distance. I had a good audience, though. It was wonderful being able to tell Krista all about it. Stuff like that is so much better when shared. Orlando was still quiet through lunch, although we did get him to talk a little. He seemed very distracted, but maybe he was just having a bad day. That happened to me sometimes. Not every day could be awesome. I still felt sorry for him, though, and hoped he’d soon be feeling better.
Mark A. Roeder
✶
✶
✶
154
✶
“Tell me about the guy who jumped you,” typed Spike. It was nearing 11 p.m. and I’d just signed on to chat, as Spike had asked in his latest e-mail. “He’s a friend of my brother—a total jerk. He’s been a dick since Mackenzie started hanging out with him, but he’s never jumped me before. He kept acting like he was doing it because I’d been checking him out.” “Had you?” “Well, kinda. Billy’s sort of hot. He’s got a nice body anyway. I get excited when I see him without a shirt. It’s not like I just stare or anything. I just steal looks at him when he isn’t paying attention. I have no idea how he could’ve caught me at it. I’m real careful. Maybe he was just making it up, or maybe my brother noticed and told him or somethin’.” “So he’s hot, huh? Would you do him if you got the chance?” “No way. He might have a nice bod, but he’s got the worst personality ever. I’ve never met a bigger jerk in my life. He’s a bad influence on Mackenzie, too. My brother wasn’t half as bad before he met Billy.” “I dunno. Guys like that can be fun—good sex.” “Whatever. You know, you’ve kind of changed.” “What do you mean?” “When we first started chatting, you were all into the idea of having a boyfriend, being romantic and all that. Now, you just talk about sex.” “Hey, I still want a boyfriend, but a guy’s got needs, you know? I’d love to be dating some cool guy, but that’s hard to find. I’ll take just sex if I can get it until I land someone.” “How about us?” “Well, man, I wanna meet. You oughta know that by now. We’ve just had bad luck: first me getting grounded and then you getting jumped. Third time’s a charm, though, right?” “I’m kind of afraid to go back to The Grove. What if Billy’s there? I don’t know what he was doing there the other night, so maybe it’s his hangout after dark or somethin’. I don’t wanna be alone with him. If that college guy hadn’t come along and saved my butt, Billy would’ve messed me up bad. He was just gettin’ started.” “We can meet earlier or something: some day when you aren’t working. I’ll make it worth the risk, I promise. When we meet, even if we don’t hit it off, I’ll blow you, man. How about that?”
Mark A. Roeder
155
I knew I shouldn’t be so easily tempted by the promise of sex, but the mere mention of it was making me throb with anticipation. I was going to have to whack it soon if Spike kept talking about it. “That sounds good,” I typed, feeling a bit weak for doing so. “Hey, you ever think about your brother?” “What’d ya mean?” “You know…does he ever turn you on?” “Dude, that’s sick.” “Come on, man. You can tell me. He’s a guy. He’s got all the parts. You ever get hot for him?” “No! He’s my brother.” “So? If I had a brother, I might do something with him.” “Not me. No way. That’s just…gross.” I was beginning to wonder about Spike. The more I talked to him, the weirder he became. Maybe weird wasn’t quite the right word. Maybe he was just becoming more and more sexual. At first, we’d talked about lots of other stuff, but now it was all sex. I was becoming disillusioned. Spike was turning out to be something other than I’d hoped. He no longer seemed like good boyfriend material. Still, he had his attractions. “Hey, want another pic of me? A nude one?” “Yes,” I typed. I just couldn’t help myself. “You gotta send me one of you.” “I don’t have one.” “You can get one, though, right?” “I guess.” I could take one with dad’s digital camera when no one was around. I didn’t know if I liked the idea of sending a naked picture of myself to someone, but if he did it first… “All right. If you promise you’ll take one and send it to me, I’ll send you one of me right now.” “Okay, I promise.” “Just a sec.” I waited while Spike attached his photo to an e-mail. I liked Spike’s pics. I had four of them already. I especially like seeing him without a shirt. Some guys sent fake pics of themselves, but I could tell Spike’s weren’t stolen from some porn site or something. For one thing, he wasn’t showing as much as porn pics would’ve, although the one he was sending would probably qualify. “Sent.”
Mark A. Roeder
156
I checked my e-mail. Nothing. I checked it again. There was a message from Spike. “Got it, hold on.” I clicked on the e-mail. Spike’s spiky hair came into view, followed by his cute face. Next, his bare, nicely muscled chest was revealed, then his tight abs. Mmmm, I sure liked the way he looked. More and more of the pic opened, until there he was at last—in all his naked glory. “Wow,” I typed. “Thanx, man. If you want it, it’s yours when we meet. No pressure, but it’s yours.” “Mmmm,” I typed. “So, when you want to meet?” “On my next day off,” I typed, still under the influence of the pic. “I don’t know when that will be, though.” “I hope it’s soon. I want you.” “Me, too.” “If I was there right now, you know what I’d do?” typed Spike. “Tell me.” We’d never done it before, but Spike and I had cyber-sex. I couldn’t believe how hot it was just typing what we’d like to do to and with each other. I couldn’t believe some of the stuff I typed! I never thought I’d have the courage, but Spike got me all worked up. He seemed to know just how to turn on my sex drive and rev it up! I didn’t get to finish, though. Mackenzie had to come downstairs at just the wrong time. I was seconds away. I stuffed Little Toby back into my shorts and typed gtg. It meant “Got to Go.” It was what Spike or I typed when we were interrupted and had to sign off without warning. “What you doin’?” asked Mackenzie mischievously. “Nothin’.” “Yeah, right! You’re up to something.” “No, I’m not. I just finished going through my e-mail.” “Cool, then let me on.” “I can’t.” “Why?” “I still have stuff to do.” “But you said you were finished.”
Mark A. Roeder
157
“I just remembered…” I was getting flustered. The truth was I couldn’t stand up. I hadn’t finished—not with cybering with Spike anyway and that much would’ve been obvious if I got out of that chair. “Lemme on!” said Mackenzie, nearly whining. “Just go away!” I said loudly. “What’s all this noise?” asked Dad, coming down the stairs. “Toby’s hogging the computer!” “I am not!” “Isn’t it a little late for you two to be up?” “Dad! It’s summer,” whined Mackenzie. “To bed, young man!” said Dad. He looked at me. “It’s time you got to bed, too. You’re a working man now.” “Okay, Dad.” It was interesting how quickly I went from boy to man and back again in my father’s eyes. I was a boy when I was doing something he didn’t like and a man when he wanted to lay a responsibility trip on me. I stalled for a few more moments and adjusted myself as I got up. The bulge wasn’t quite as noticeable, but I hurried past Dad just in case. Whew! That was close, I thought when I made it into the bathroom. I was going to finish off, but Mackenzie pounded on the door. “What are you doing in there?” Sometimes, I despised my little brother. I came out of the bathroom, pretending innocence, pulled off my shorts, and climbed into bed facing away from Mackenzie. I was so worked up it was painful, but I knew I’d have to wait until he fell asleep to take care of business. It never happened; I slipped off first and dreamed about meeting Spike.
Mackenzie
“Mackenzie!” called Mom. “Phone! It’s Billy.” I was halfway down the stairs when she said “Billy.” I jerked to a halt. Half of me was excited he’d called, because I figured he’d never speak to me again. The other half didn’t want to talk to him. It would only serve as a reminder of what had happened. I was trying hard to forget. My two halves were still fighting for dominance as I took the phone from Mom. “Hello?” I said. “Hi,” said Billy. There was a long pause in which neither of us spoke. “We need to talk.” I said nothing. “We need to talk, did you hear me?” “I heard you.” “So?” “I guess.” “Meet me in the park.” Billy hung up without another word. I went back upstairs, put on my shoes, and headed out. Billy was waiting on me when I got there. I wasn’t looking forward to speaking with him. The last time we’d been together, we’d seen each other naked; we’d touched each other. I tried to shake the images from my mind. “What was up with you?” asked Billy. “With me?” “Yeah. Five more minutes and we would’ve had Tami. She’d have been ours all night long, man.” - 158 -
Mark A. Roeder
159
“Did she let you…” “No! You ruined it! You know how long it took me to get her interested? She goes out with seniors and college guys, dude! We’re fifteen. I had to promise her we’d put on a show for her. She’s into that shit I guess.” “Did she suggest it, or did you?” I asked. “What are you trying to say, Mackenzie?” said Billy, standing over me. He was without a shirt and his muscles were bulging as he tensed his fists at his sides. “Nothin’,” I said. It wasn’t the truth. Billy seemed a little too willing to do stuff with me. “It was her idea, if you must know,” he said. “Fuck, Mackenzie, don’t you want some ass? Huh? We could’ve had her, but you had to chicken out!” “She wanted me to blow you!” I said. I wanted to yell it, but there were other people in the park and I didn’t want anyone to overhear us. “Dude, if you’d done it for like…two minutes, that probably would’ve been enough, then we could’ve had her.” “I’m not a fag.” “Like I am? We discussed this shit before. I thought you understood. Doing what Tami wanted was us buying our ticket to ride. Get it? Just like with Mandy. Why do you always have to freak out over shit? I thought you were cool.” “I’m not blowing no dude,” I said. “Fuck, man, I even got her to say it would be okay if I blew you, and you wouldn’t even go for that. Fuck!” Billy put me on the defensive. He was acting like I was at fault—like I’d done something wrong. “How could you even think about doing that, Billy?” “Oh grow up, Mackenzie. It’s not that big of a deal. Fuck, a lot of the jocks jerk each other off when they get horny. That doesn’t make them gay. Hell, I’ve heard some of ’em have even blown each other, just to get off when they can’t get a girl. You know Mike Bradley? He’s on the varsity high-school team and him and Chase Simmons have sucked each other off more than once. When they’re between girlfriends and they’re real horny, they do it and they ain’t gay, man!” “How do you know they do that?” “’Cause Mike told me.” “Why would he tell you?” “Because I’m cool. Guys tell other guys stuff if they’re cool, but you wouldn’t know about that.”
Mark A. Roeder
160
I felt like I’d just been slapped in the face. I hoped my cheeks weren’t turning red. I bit my lip. Suddenly, I felt like crying, but that sure wouldn’t make me look cool. I glared at Billy. “So see? You blew it with Tami for nothing! Worse, you blew it for me! We were so close, man, and you had to be a little pussy.” I found myself apologizing to Billy. I don’t know what made me do it. It was like he had some kind of power over me. He’d done it before. Sometimes, I was convinced he was in the wrong, but by the time he got done talking, it was my fault. Maybe I had been stupid. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. It was just that “fag” and “cocksucker” were such huge insults at school I thought anyone who did that stuff was totally un-cool. I didn’t know there were rules about it. I didn’t know there were times when it was okay. Sometimes, I didn’t want to grow up. Everything was just too complicated. I wanted to go back to being fourteen when everything was simple. “So, am I forgiven?” I asked. “Will ya give me a blow?” asked Billy. “Just kiddin’, man. Yeah, you’re forgiven, but fuckin’ grow up and don’t be such a pussy. You’re gonna have to get yourself in shape before school starts ’cause I’m not covering for you all the time.” I felt about two inches tall. “Hey, don’t take it so hard. You take everything too seriously! You’re mostly cool; otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang out with me. We’ve just gotta get rid of your un-cool parts. It’s probably the influence of your queer brother. You can’t be that close to queerness all your life without being affected by it.” “Think Tami would give us another chance?” I asked. “I dunno, man. I doubt it. She was plenty disappointed, and pissed. Maybe, if I explained things…” “You can blame me,” I said. “It was my fault. Next time, I’ll just do what she asks, okay?” Were these words really coming out of my mouth? “Yeah, well. I’ll see,” said Billy. I felt better. Things were getting back to normal. It was a close shave, though. I’d nearly messed up everything with Billy.
Orlando
I was in a daze as I worked with Krista and Toby. The mere sight of Krista filled me with guilt and remorse. How could I have cheated on her—with her very own brother no less? I wasn’t that kind of guy. At least, I hadn’t been that kind of guy. I obviously was now. Krista was worried about me, and that just made it worse. There she was, concerned about me when I’d betrayed her. It was the worst feeling in the world. I was tired. I hadn’t slept. Kerry had driven me home without so much as a word being uttered by either of us. At least, I don’t think he said anything. Maybe he did and I just failed to hear. I was in shock. The same question kept repeating itself in my mind, over and over: Why did I do it? I’d taken a shower when I got home, as if I could scrub away my guilt. There wasn’t that much soap in the entire world. I couldn’t undo what I’d done. After my shower, I’d climbed in bed, but didn’t bother to close my eyes. I didn’t dare. If I did the images would assail me; visions of Kerry and me having sex would flood my mind. It was like I’d been possessed. It was like someone else had taken control of my body. Kerry hadn’t forced himself on me. He touched me when I didn’t want him to, but soon after, I was all his. It was me who dived for his crotch. It was me who’d gone down on him. I’d cried as I tried to force the images from my mind. Was I queer? I had to be; I had to be bi. Straight guys didn’t give head. They didn’t attack another guy and swallow him whole. I’d done it and I knew what I was doing. I wanted it. I was consumed with lust for Kerry. If he would’ve denied me what I wanted, I’d have begged for it. There was no denying the truth. - 161 -
Mark A. Roeder
162
How could I do such a thing to Krista? That question had haunted me all night. It plagued me still as I worked by her side. She was kind, sweet, and loving. She was my girlfriend. How could I toss all that aside and jump on her brother like that? Yeah, he was willing. He’d tempted me. He’d seduced me. But, he didn’t force me. I did what I did of my own free will. Maybe Kerry had set me up, but I’d been a willing participant. I was guilty, as guilty as sin. One thing that totally perplexed me was how I could so easily toss aside a dream. Sure, the mere fact I’d gone after a guy confused me, but what really turned my world upside down was how I’d turned my back on all my principles in one swift move. I’d dreamed about having a girlfriend—someone to love, someone who’d love me back. I wanted to find a girl like Krista and spend my whole life with her. I wanted to get married and have kids and grow old together. I wanted to stick with that one girl forever. I knew boys who cheated on their girlfriends, although they cheated on them with other girls and not boys. I’d always looked upon them with contempt. I’d felt so superior to them, knowing that my morals would never allow such a thing, and yet the very first time I found a serious girlfriend, I turned around and cheated on her in an instant. I wasn’t sure where to turn or what to do next. One thing I’d decided during my long, sleepless night was that I would never repeat my mistake. I’d stay away from Kerry. I would no doubt see him from time to time, but never again would I let him get me alone, never again would I yield to temptation. I’d be true to Krista. I just hoped Kerry would keep his mouth shut. What if he told her? Or, what if he threatened to tell her if I didn’t have sex with him again? I’d gotten myself into one tangled mess. I’d pondered long and hard over whether or not I should confess to Krista. Should I tell her what I’d done, or would that do more harm than good? I didn’t like walking around with my dirty little secret, but I knew how hurt she’d be if I told her. There was the fact that Kerry was her brother, too. What trouble would I stir up between them if I came clean? Would they be broken apart forever if I told the truth? If I didn’t tell, would Kerry prey upon whatever boy Krista dated? Was this a one-time thing for him, or was it some kind of sick and twisted hobby? My thoughts halted for a moment as I realized what had entered my head— Krista dating other boys. Did I have so little faith in our relationship I assumed it wouldn’t last? I wanted to scream. There were too many thoughts running around in my brain. I wished I could just shut them off for a while. Maybe this was why some people did drugs or got drunk. Such an escape was tempting, but at least I had the sense to know that kind of escape was a trap. I’d screwed up
Mark A. Roeder
163
things enough already without adding to my problems in a vain attempt to escape them. No, I couldn’t tell Krista. It would likely bring an end to our relationship, and it would only serve to hurt her. I would not repeat my mistake. I wouldn’t touch Kerry again. I’d live with the knowledge of what I’d done. I’d carry it with me as a punishment. If Krista ever strayed, I’d remember how I’d cheated on her and I’d forgive her. Maybe I’d even tell her about Kerry then, but maybe not. Krista would never cheat on me, though; she was better than that. I’d thought I was better than that, too, but I was wrong. I’d fallen from my pedestal. After my workday ended at five, I didn’t go home. Instead, I wandered around the park, but its beauty was lost on me. I thought it odd I could look at things that usually brought me such pleasure—the flowers, trees, rides, beautiful lights, and more—and find no happiness in them at all. I was seeing the same things, hearing them, smelling them, but those senses didn’t get translated into happiness. Perhaps it was a punishment for what I’d done. “How are you doing today, young Orlando?” asked Mr. Meadows. I’d almost passed him without seeing him. That’s how lost in my own thoughts I’d become. “Oh, hello. I’m…” I was going to say fine, but it was a bold-faced lie. “I’m feeling a little down, actually.” “Ah, I’ve been there many times myself. Pull up a toadstool and tell me about it.” Mr. Meadows was working on a vast bed of marigolds that were mixed in with some purple flowers which were so dark they were nearly black. He was arranging them so that they formed a giant jack-o-lantern. I wasn’t sure how much I could or wanted to reveal to Mr. Meadows, but I sat down and watched him work, carefully planting each flower in its place, like an artist painting on a canvas. We remained silent for a good long time. Mr. Meadows had the patience of someone accustoming to waiting for things to grow from seeds. “I’ve done something terrible,” I said at last, “and it’s eating me up inside. I feel like a horrible, awful person.” “The mere fact that your conscience is tormenting you tells me you’re not horrible at all. We all do things we regret.” “I cheated on someone I love,” I said. Mr. Meadows looked up at me. I saw compassion rather than reproach in his gaze.
Mark A. Roeder
164
“It’s hard when you fall,” said Mr. Meadows. “It’s hard to face the fact that you aren’t as near to perfection as you once thought.” “I’m no where near perfect.” “No one is, but deep down, most of us believe that we’re basically good. When we fall short of that, our fallibility is often hard to accept. We feel as if we’re less than we were.” “Exactly.” I paused, debating on just how much I should tell Mr. Meadows. He was older and might not react well at all to my homosexual experience. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to speak the words. There was so much inside me that I dared not share. Talking with Mr. Meadows helped, though. It didn’t solve my problems, but he helped me put things in perspective. He didn’t say what I’d done was okay, but he did point out that everyone made mistakes, that everyone failed to live up to their ideal self. Mostly, I just sat there in silence as Mr. Meadows tended his plants. A warm, humid scent enveloped me, a scent like I’d noticed in the greenhouse, a scent of earth and growing things. It helped me relax. I drew it into myself, almost as if I were trying to become one with the plants around me. I almost wished I could. If I could become a flower, I’d never be able to hurt anyone. I walked more when I parted from Mr. Meadows, still thinking, still wondering why life had to be so hard. Why couldn’t everything just work out? Why did my mom have to struggle just to pay the bills? Why did life have to be messed up for so many people by too little of this or too much of that? I wanted everyone to be happy. Life should be like a day at Phantom World, filled with laughter and fun and cotton candy. Problems should not exist. That wasn’t reality, though. Wanting it didn’t make it so. I had to live in the world I was born in and make the best I could of it. That’s all anyone could do. I briefly caught sight of Kerry as I was wandering around. He was wearing sexy Umbros and a tank top that showed off his muscles. I hadn’t realized it before, but he was a walking advertisement for sex. Our eyes met and he gave me that little, knowing grin of his that now meant so much more than it had before. I hated him, but at the same time the mere sight of him made me breathe a little harder, and my manhood stirred in my shorts. I quickly turned and walked away, repeating to myself, never again. ✶
✶
“Dude, what’s eating at ya?” asked Eddie.
✶
✶
Mark A. Roeder
165
We were sitting on the hood of his Cutlass, tossing back ice-cold Cokes from the Marathon. It was late evening and the sky was darkening. The shadows highlighted Eddie’s face, making him almost handsome. “More than you’d ever guess, man.” “Tell me?” he asked. “If I told you everything, you’d hate me.” “No way could I ever hate you. Come on, we’ve been friends forever. Spill it. I don’t like seeing you in pain.” I felt like crying. “I can’t…” “Then tell me what you can.” “I cheated on Krista.” “No way! I mean…you really cheated on her?” “Yep. I guess I’m just like Tara.” “Not unless you’ve slept with every guy in town,” said Eddie with a laugh. Guy—the word hit me. Little did Eddie know… “I just cheated on her once. I’m not gonna do it again.” “Who was it?” asked Eddie. “Sorry, that’s not my business.” I looked at Eddie, my best friend forever, as tears welled in my eyes. “I’m so fucked up, Eddie. It hurts so bad.” A sob escaped. It just pushed its way up from my chest and burst out of my lips. More wanted to come, but I held them in. It made me want to scream. I wrapped my arms around my knees and drew them up against me, and I rocked back and forth. I wanted to die. “Dude, come on, tell me what’s eating you alive. Let me help you, just like you’ve done for me so many times.” “I can’t!” I said, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks. “I can’t!” “Dude,” said Eddie, taking me by the shoulders. “You’re my best friend. Nothin’ can change that.” I looked into his eyes. He was kinda blurry through the tears. “You know who I cheated on Krista with? It was a guy.” I peered at Eddie, letting the word sink in. “I cheated on her with a guy, Eddie, a guy. I had sex with another guy.” Eddie bit his lip. His eyes left mine for a moment, and then returned. He nodded. “Okay,” he said, almost as if to himself. “Okay. So, you’re like bi or gay or what?”
Mark A. Roeder
166
“I think I’m bi,” I croaked. It was hard holding back the sobs. “I like girls, but…last night…” I looked at Eddie, blinking away the tears. “It’s okay, man,” said Eddie. “Is it really? Aren’t you freaked out?” “Nah, you gotta come up with something way more shocking to freak me out, man.” “So, me doin’ it with a guy isn’t shocking?” “Oh, it’s shocking all right. I never saw this one comin’, but it doesn’t matter. You like girls, you like guys, what’s it to me? You’re still my best bud. The only thing that bothers me about it is that it bothers you.” Eddie was peering at me intently. He meant the words that were spilling out of his mouth. The look of concern on his face was clear to read. “So you’re okay with me bein’ half-queer?” “Dude, I’m like half Jewish and half Polish and half Irish, so what?” A snicker escaped from my lips, “Eddie, that’s three halves.” “Yeah, well,” he said with a grin, “ya know what I mean!” “So you’re really okay with it?” “How many times I gotta tell ya! Yes! If you ask me again, I’m gonna pound ya.” “Okay,” I said. “Eddie, you don’t know what this means to me. It’s like…it’s a huge load off my shoulders. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you would’ve freaked out over me being into guys.” “Well, I didn’t, so quit worrin’ ’bout that.” I smiled. “So, how long have you known about this guy thing?” “A few days.” “Really?” “Yeah. I mean, it must’ve been inside me all along, but then I met Kerry and…” My voiced trailed off. I hadn’t really meant to say his name, but there it was. “Kerry?” “You know him?” “Yeah,” said Eddie, as if that word meant a lot. “He’s trouble, man.” “He’s also Krista’s brother.” “Shit, man!” said Eddie. “Damn, you life has turned into a soap opera. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Mark A. Roeder
167
“Well, I’m not proud of it. I can’t believe I cheated on Krista, but Kerry…he seduced me. I didn’t even know I wanted what he had until I saw it, but once I laid eyes on him…I was a goner.” Eddie nodded. “I’m not trying to say it’s any excuse for cheating on Krista, but it just blind-sided me.” “I can imagine.” “He’s so hot, Eddie. When I look at him, I just…” Eddie was being so cool. The stuff I was throwing at him was a real shocker, but he just hung right in there, never flinching. “You be careful around Kerry. He’ll use you up and throw you away. He’s done it before,” said Eddie. “Yeah? What do you know?” “Mainly just rumors, but I’ve seen a few of the girls he’s screwed up. It’s a game to him. He gets into their heads, makes them think he cares, and then dumps them. You’re not the first guy he has had either. He totally fucked up this one kid I know. I don’t mean he beat him up or anything, but the kid’s gay and young and Kerry just totally took advantage of him—acted like he cared, had sex with him a few times, and then laughed at him. He made a total fool of him. The weird thing is Bobby, that’s his name, keeps wanting to go back for more. It’s messed up.” My mind when back to the boy Kerry and I had seen in the park, the one who looked like he wanted to come up to Kerry, but was afraid. I remembered also Kerry had left real quick after that. Was that Bobby? Had Kerry gone in search of him? “I don’t know how to handle this,” I said. “There’s this whole part of me that I didn’t even know was there, you know? I always figured I’d get married someday and all that, but now, I don’t know. I really feel like I don’t know anything.” “Dude, give yourself some time to sort it all out. I can’t say I know what it’s like, not without lying anyway, but I know it’s got to be confusing. Look, you are what you are, just let it flow, man. Deal with what you’ve done to Krista and just chill out about the rest for a while. Things may look way different down the road.” “When did you turn into such a philosopher?” I asked. “It’s the pot, man, makes me fuckin’ brilliant.” I laughed. “You may be brilliant now and then, but it’s definitely not the pot.” Eddie grinned. I was glad to have him as my friend.
Toby
I smiled at C.T. as I neared the Phantom World Railroad. We were working the station together. “You know, I don’t think you’ve stopped smiling since you met Jordan,” he said. “Well, I have, but not often. Thanks again. If you hadn’t come to get me, I would’ve never known they were in the park. I’d have been so bummed out to miss them! Avery would’ve never overheard us talking either and…” “It’s okay,” said C.T., “you thanked me, what, ten times already? You’re eternally grateful; you’re my slave. I get it.” I grinned. “Besides,” said C.T., “if you hadn’t been going on about your Jordan obsession, Avery wouldn’t have overheard us, and I wouldn’t have gotten to meet Phantom either.” I really liked C.T. Where Spike had been getting more and more sexual with me on the internet, C.T. kept things cool. We were friends and hopefully headed toward being boyfriends. I had hard, throbbing thoughts about Spike, but I had warm, fuzzy thoughts about C.T. I think I liked those warm and fuzzy thoughts the best. Not that I didn’t like the sexual thoughts. Those were…incredibly enjoyable in so many ways, but when it got right down to it, there was a lot more to having a boyfriend than sex. Sure, sex was part of it, a damn good part, but it was about companionship and love, too. I had part of that with C.T. already. At the very least, we had companionship, and I was feeling something for him. Was
- 168 -
Mark A. Roeder
169
it love? I didn’t know. I had no idea how love felt. It wasn’t in any books, and no one seemed able to describe it. I was going to try and keep things going with both Spike and C.T. It’s not like I was cheating on either of them. C.T. and I hadn’t openly spoken of our relationship. I didn’t even know what it was yet. Spike seemed less and less like the boyfriend kind. He had an appealing, bad-boy quality to him, however, that I found hard to resist. My hormones drove me to him. If things got serious with C.T., then I’d break things off with Spike. If Spike and I started getting together for regular sex, then I’d put off thinking about C.T. as more than a friend. There was no reason to tie myself down just yet or eliminate any of the possibilities. Things didn’t always work out, as I’d learned with Orlando. And I’d waited way too long for a boyfriend and sex to give up any of my options. I was glad to be working with C.T. instead of Krista and Orlando. I liked them both just fine, but Orlando was getting moody and wasn’t nearly as much fun as he had been. I found myself wanting to help him out of his funk, but I didn’t know how. I tried to joke around with him, but he wasn’t very responsive. I didn’t want to get too nosy about his troubles either. Besides, Krista was his girl and he’d probably tell her stuff way before he’d tell me. C.T. had become more of a Phantom fan since he’d met the guys. He was far more eager to hear me talk about them and to join into the conversation than he was before. We even talked about going to one of their concerts together. “Hey,” said C.T., as we were waiting for the next train to arrive, “you want to go see Young Abe Lincoln? It’s not exactly Broadway, but I’ve heard it’s pretty good. I might even want to audition for a part next year, although I’ll probably work here again.” “That sounds kinda cool. I haven’t been to a show in like, forever.” “How about tonight? It’s not expensive. We’re both under 18 so it’s only $8, I think, not much more expensive than a movie.” “It’s a date,” I said, watching to see if C.T. would react to my choice of words. If he thought anything about it, he didn’t let it show. ✶
✶
✶
✶
It didn’t take long to get to the amphitheatre. It was less than an hour from Phantom World. The amphitheatre was bigger than I expected. It was also covered. For some reason I thought it was an open-air theatre, but this was better, especially since a steady drizzle was falling from the sky. I still felt like I was outside, though, which was cool.
Mark A. Roeder
170
I was sitting right beside C.T. I liked the way that made me feel. I wanted to put my arm around him or something, but that’s not something one guy can do with another in public, at least not in southern Indiana. I didn’t know how C.T. would react either. When the show started, there was a boy kneeling by a tombstone. He had to be young Abe Lincoln. I knew enough about Lincoln to know that his mom had died when he was real young. I’d even seen her gravesite at the National Park in Lincoln, which was real close to where we were sitting. Anyway, the boy was sitting there in the twilight, and I could hear a whippoorwill singing in the distance. Beyond the stage stood tall, dark trees, further creating the illusion we were outside. I got into the show even more than I thought I would. I wondered why I hadn’t bothered to go see it before. I even thought I might like to audition for one of the Abe Lincoln parts, but I liked working at Phantom World too much. Four different actors, of varying ages, played Lincoln in the play. The first one was just a boy, but the others were older and more interesting. Gee, I couldn’t even watch a play without checking out guys. I was boy-crazy. I’d have to knock that off if I started dating C.T., unless we went boy-watching together. C.T. was spellbound. He truly loved theatre. I could see it in his eyes. I love being in plays, but my enthusiasm for watching them couldn’t match that of C.T. He was as into plays as I was Phantom. Whoa. I didn’t know how long the performance lasted, but it didn’t seem long at all. That’s the mark of a good play. If you feel like you’ve been sitting there forever, then it wasn’t very good. This one wasn’t like that. It was cool. C.T. and I discussed the play on the drive back. We hadn’t gone far when we stopped at the edge of Ferdinand and ate at the Wendy’s that was right by the interstate. I liked Wendy’s. They had good, cheap bacon cheeseburgers and I loved those Frostys. Mmm. C.T. and I sat there, talking more about the play. He mentioned again that he might want to audition for it, but would stick with Phantom World if he could get a part in one of the shows there. “We should’ve asked Jordan about it when we were with him,” I said. “He owns the place, after all. He could just put us in.” “Yeah, but I’d kind of like to get it on my own, you know?” said C.T. “I guess I can understand that. I think I’m gonna try out for the shows next year, too. Maybe we’ll even be in one together; that would be so cool.” “Yeah.” “Even if I don’t make it, I can still work in the park. I love it there.”
Mark A. Roeder
171
“Me too. My feet get tired, but I’ve had lots of other jobs that gave me tired feet and I didn’t like them nearly as well.” I could tell I was falling for C.T. because he kept looking cuter. That had happened to me in the past. In fourth grade, I didn’t think Eddie Whitehead was good looking at all, until I started liking him. He got better looking every day after that until he was downright cute. C.T. was pretty cute to begin with, with his blond bangs always falling down in front of his green eyes, but he was getting way cute now. As we sat there, I thought about telling C.T. how I felt about him. I hadn’t entirely decided how I felt, but I liked him, a lot. I was feeling something for him. I definitely had a crush on him and it felt like it was more than that. It wasn’t like me to be shy, but I’d never told another boy something like that, so I didn’t know how. I ended up not saying anything, but I did decide I’d tell him soon. It might seem a bit wicked, but I kind of wanted to hold off on telling him until I’d met Spike. Something about Spike intrigued me. His bad-boy qualities attracted me, and I at least wanted to meet him and fool around before I got serious with C.T. That felt a little wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. By the time C.T. dropped me off I was dead tired. It was getting late and I had to get up the next morning for work. I told C.T. goodbye and thanks and stumbled into the house. I dropped down on the bed and went to sleep without even bothering to undress. During the night, I dreamed of kissing C.T.
Mackenzie
I’d been thinking about what I’d told Billy. Had I actually said I’d do anything Tami wanted if she gave us another chance? I knew what she wanted, and just thinking about it made me wanna hurl. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to do it with her after doing it with Billy. I’d probably be permanently turned off. I wished I’d told Billy just to forget the whole thing. I should’ve come up with some excuse or done somethin’ to get out of it. What was I thinking? It was like I couldn’t think for myself when I was around him. Billy was coming over. He was due at any moment. I sure hoped he hadn’t talked to Tami, although if it was going to happen, maybe it was best to just get it over with. Maybe I could pretend my way through it, like I’d done when I was kissing Billy and pretending he was Tami. I sure couldn’t pretend my way through giving head, though. Tami didn’t have that kind of equipment. Maybe I could get Billy to do it. That wouldn’t be quite as bad. If he did me, I could pretend he was Tami. I was determined not to mention Tami, but she was about the first thing out of my mouth when Billy walked in the door. Was I just stupid or what? “Did you ask Tami?” “Yes and she’d barely talk to me. She wouldn’t go for it, man. She said we’d had our chance.” “I’m sorry.” “You better be!” I bowed my head a little. I was sorry I’d ruined things for Billy, but I wasn’t at all sorry we weren’t getting together with Tami. It was a huge load off my mind. - 172 -
Mark A. Roeder
173
“I’ve been thinking about Toby,” said Billy. “What about him?” “We could have some fun with him.” “We already did that, and you’re still doing it.” I wasn’t entirely happy about that. I still felt bad for making Toby cry when “Spike” didn’t show up. “Not that! I mean, something a lot more fun,” he whispered. “Are your parents home?” “Nope.” “Good, I don’t want anyone hearing. I was thinking, since Tami turned us down…” Here, Billy paused and glared at me. He waited a full five seconds to let the full severity of my crime sink in. “Since Tami turned us down, I was thinking that maybe we could get what we wanted from your brother.” “Huh?” Billy was making absolutely no sense. He might as well have been speaking French, or Latin, or Swiss. “We could get your brother to do for us what Tami was going to do.” I stared at Billy. Did he really mean what I thought he did? It wasn’t possible. “No way,” I said, hoping Billy would explain himself and that he was meaning something other than what I thought. “Come on, man, he’s a fag. He’ll probably like it. I know he’s got a thing for me. You found that out yourself.” “Dude! No!” “Come on, Mackenzie, you owe me this! You screwed up things with Tami, so you gotta get me a replacement.” “How could you even suggest it? Why would you even want that?” “Hey, it’ll feel the same.” “That’s…that’s gay, man.” Billy grabbed me by the throat and glared at me. “You callin’ me a fag?” “No. No, Billy,” I croaked. Billy released me. I rubbed my throat. “Listen, Mackenzie, it’s not gay. It’s him who will be doing the blowing after all.” I was shocked. “No way!” “Come on, Man.” “Dude, even if Toby would be into that, I sure wouldn’t. I don’t want no part of it. It’s…it’s incest.” “Who cares if he wants it or not? We can make him.” “Dude, that’s not cool.”
Mark A. Roeder
174
“He’s a queer. The same rules don’t apply to him. I bet he’d do anything we wanted to keep us from telling your parents and everyone at school about him.” “No!” Billy looked at me in disgust. “Don’t be a pussy. If you don’t wanna join in, at least let me have him. Fuck, it’s just a blow.” “No! It’s not right! It’s blackmail!” I was practically screaming. “Calm down, dude. Okay. Okay. It was just an idea. I thought you’d be willing to do something for me since you’ve messed up everything else.” Billy was laying on the guilt heavily, but this time I wasn’t going to knuckle under. I was beginning to see him for what he was. I was willing to jerk Toby around and play with his mind, but Billy wanted to go way too far. Maybe Billy wasn’t as cool as I thought. “Listen, Dad’s going to be home soon. He’s taking me to buy…shoes.” Billy peered at me like he didn’t quite believe me. He’d probably picked up on my hesitation. I was pretty good at lying, but Billy had thrown me. “Okay. Why don’t I just go home since we’re not going to have any fun?” He was still digging at me, still trying to lay a guilt trip on me. “Okay,” I said, “Bye.” Billy left. For the first time ever, I was glad to see him go.
Orlando
I went for a walk to clear my head. I started walking and kept walking. I didn’t pay any attention when I heard a car come up behind me. I was walking along the side of a gravel road and had already been passed by a handful of vehicles. A horn jolted me out of my inner world, and I jerked around to see Kerry’s Camaro. Kerry pulled to the side of the road and got out. He was wearing his sleek, black Umbros again and no shirt. It was a clear, humid day and Kerry’s muscular torso glistened in the sun. “Hey,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you.” I didn’t answer. “You’re mad at me.” He made it seem like I shouldn’t be angry with him. “Yeah, well…” “You don’t have to be mad.” “You made me cheat on your sister.” “Made you?” Kerry laughed. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t make you do anything.” I hated that he was right. “Listen,” said Kerry, “you don’t have to be uncomfortable about us. It’s not cheating. It’s just guys having fun. It’s not like you went out and screwed another girl.” I shook my head. I knew I should be disgusted, but all I could think was, Damn, is he hot! “So it’s not cheating since you’re a guy?”
- 175 -
Mark A. Roeder
176
“No. It’s not like we’re dating. I’m not trying to take you away from Krista. I just want to have some fun. Besides, you won’t get action with my sis like you will with me. If you’re waiting to get into her pants, it’s gonna be a long wait.” “There’s more between Krista and me than sex.” At the present, there was no sex, only making out. “Yeah, that’s right,” said Kerry. I was surprised he agreed with me. “I know you’re serious about her. I’m glad. That doesn’t mean that you and I can’t…have some fun.” Kerry closed the distance between us. I could see beads of sweat running down over his tanned, muscular pecs, onto his tight abs, and into his Umbros. The desire to reach out and touch his smooth skin was almost unbearable. Kerry smiled at me seductively. Everything Eddie had told me about him went sailing out of my mind. “Hey,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” He gently grasped my chin. He closed in on me and I let him kiss me. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I was his. We couldn’t stand there and make out by the side of the road. Kerry led me to his car, and I got in the passenger side. He flashed me a smile that made my heart beat faster and put his hand on my knee. He drove to The Grove, which was deserted in the early evening. “Come on,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me from the car. He was really leading me by my manhood. It was doing my thinking for me, but I didn’t care. Kerry was so strong, so beautiful, so wild and sexy and sexual I couldn’t resist him. Kerry led me along a seldom-used path, quite some distance into the woods. We stopped in a sheltered bay formed of honeysuckle. It surrounded us on all sides, with only a small opening at one end. It was like a roofless room made of living ivy. The clear sky shone through the leaves far overhead. The floor was made of moss, like a smooth, green carpet. It was beautiful, but I didn’t observe it for long. My heart pounded in my chest and my thoughts were consumed with Kerry’s sleek, muscular body. I knew I shouldn’t be there with him. I knew I shouldn’t be doing what I was doing. But, it was like I couldn’t think when I was near Kerry. He held out a whole new world to me, mine for the taking. What was so wrong in that? Kerry took me in his arms and I didn’t resist. He kissed me again and our tongues entwined. It was just like before. We tried to devour each other. Our lips and hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Kerry pulled my shirt over my head as we made out and his fingers were soon busy finding their way into my shorts.
Mark A. Roeder
177
Kerry had me stripped naked in no time at all. The warm air felt good on my nude body. A thin layer of perspiration formed on my skin. I yearned to get into Kerry’s Umbros, but it was he who went down on his knees first. He engulfed me and I moaned loud enough to be heard for who knows how far. It was all a bliss-filled blur from that moment on. It was sex, sex as I’d never imagined it, not even in my wildest fantasies. Kerry took me to the edge, and beyond, and then we went at it again. We changed positions and I threw myself into the act of making Kerry moan. I felt as if something primeval had been released inside me and couldn’t be controlled. Kerry pulled me down on top of him, with the soft green moss spread out beneath us. He thrust himself into me and I mirrored his actions. There was so much he could teach me. Kerry nibbled on my ears, making my mind explode with pleasure. Who would’ve guessed such a simple thing could feel so good?” Kerry scooted around under me until he was face down. His firm butt-cheeks invited me to press my manhood between them. Did he really want this? Is this where he was leading me? I pushed against him and he didn’t stop me. Slowly, ever so slowly so as not to hurt him, I penetrated him. Kerry moaned. I’d never known such bliss as this. Stars went nova in my mind. I thrust, whimpered and moaned, and Kerry was not silent beneath me. I wanted it to last forever, but it could not. It was too intense, too incredible and too intimate. I cried out in pleasure and Kerry bucked beneath me. Later, we lay side by side on the moss, looking up at the sky. When had the sky darkened and the night come? I rested my head on Kerry’s chest and listened to the rhythm of his heart. I wanted to stay there with him forever.
Toby
“Do you think Orlando is acting…odd?” asked Krista, as we sat across from the Ferris Wheel, enjoying our hot dogs for supper. “Not exactly odd,” I said slowly, “more like distant, withdrawn. It’s like he’s always thinking about something far away.” “Yes, that’s right,” said Krista. “That’s more of what I meant, although it is odd for him to be that way. I’m getting worried that…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes became watery as if she were on the verge of crying. I put my arm around her. “What is it, Krista?” “I…I don’t think I can talk to you about it. I don’t want to hurt you.” “Hurt me? How?” I asked, sitting back. Krista hesitated, and then spoke almost hesitantly, “I know about you, Toby. At least I think I do.” This was it. She’d guessed I was gay. She’d seen me checking out boys, or maybe she’d seen me with C.T. Most people probably thought C.T. and I were just friends, which was true at the moment, but he was definitely queer acting. Well, he acted the way most people thought gay boys acted: his voice, his clothes, his love of theatre, the way he gestured with his hands when he talked, the way he held his wrist. C.T. was a walking gay stereotype. Maybe Krista had caught on I was gay because I hung out with C.T. “Go on,” I said. Oddly enough, I felt perfectly composed. Krista was my friend, and I believed she’d accept me, whether I like girls or boys. I’d thought about telling her myself, but it wasn’t easy to come out, even to a friend. - 178 -
Mark A. Roeder
179
“Well, I know you have a crush on me, Toby. Now, don’t get embarrassed; there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m flattered, but I just don’t think of you in that way. You’re more like a little brother to me.” A small chortle forced its way up my throat before I could stop it. Krista peered at me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to laugh, but it’s funny. I’ll explain in a minute, but first, you tell me why you think I have a crush on you.” “Ever since Orlando and I started dating, you’ve seemed kind of jealous. You keep it mostly hidden, but we’ve both noticed. Maybe I should’ve said something before. I like you Toby, I like you a lot, but as a friend.” “Okay,” I said, “you’re not completely wrong, but let’s get back to what’s bothering you. What has you upset?” Krista grew quiet for a few moments. I slowly chewed on my hot dog while waiting for her to speak. “I think Orlando has another girl.” Her voice was so quiet it was nearly a whisper. “No, not Orlando. He wouldn’t do that. What makes you think so?” “It’s just little things. When we kiss, he gets kind of awkward. It’s like his whole body becomes all rigid. When I mention how happy he makes me, he doesn’t look me in the eyes. When he does look into my eyes I see guilt there. I don’t know what to think, Toby. I like Orlando so much. I think I even love him. I don’t want to say anything to him about my suspicions in case I’m wrong. Then he’d just think I don’t trust him.” “I’m sorry,” I said. “I, uh, I don’t quite know what to tell you. I’m not exactly experienced in this kind of stuff.” Krista smiled despite her sadness and mussed my hair. She looked at me curiously. “What did you mean when you said I wasn’t completely wrong about you being jealous, and why is the idea of you having a crush on me funny?” “Think about it,” I said. “Add those two things up and see what you get.” I watched Krista as she puzzled it out, but she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. “Me having a crush on you is funny,” I said slowly. “You’re not completely wrong about me being jealous of you and Orlando. I don’t have a crush on you, but I’m a little jealous because I have a crush on…” “Orlando?” asked Krista, as if she didn’t think she had the answer, even though it seemed the only possibility.
Mark A. Roeder
180
I nodded. “I’m gay,” I whispered. I was a little uneasy admitting that even to Krista. “Really?” “Really. Listen, I had a crush on Orlando…well, I still do, sorta, but since he started dating you it’s become kinda obvious he’s straight. I knew the chances of him bein’ gay weren’t good, but I’d been hoping, and then you two started in, and…well, that kind of ended that. I want you to know I’m happy for you, both of you. You’re my friends. I’m a little jealous. I can’t help that, but I’m happy that you’re happy. Only now you’re not.” I frowned. Krista weakly smiled and nodded her head. “So, um, it’s okay with you that I’m gay?” “Of course it is, Toby. Why would it not be?” “I dunno. I thought you’d be cool with it, but I didn’t really know, you know? Some people…” “Some people can go jump in the lake,” said Krista. I laughed again, smiled, and then turned serious once more. “I hope you’re wrong about Orlando. Maybe something else is bothering him.” “I hope I’m wrong, too.” I hugged Krista again. We’d become good friends. In some ways, that was even more important than having a boyfriend. ✶
✶
✶
✶
When I checked my e-mail after work, the subject line in a message from Spike made my heart beat faster. It said, “Let’s Meet Tonight.” I clicked on the message and read it:
Toby, I can’t wait anymore. Besides, I don’t have to. I’m no longer grounded. I’ve been thinking about you and looking at your pictures. You’re driving me crazy. I want you so bad, Toby. When we meet, I want to have sex. I’ll go ahead and say that right now. If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay, but
Mark A. Roeder
181
that’s what I want. I feel like I’m going to burst or something. I’ll be at The Grove waiting for you at 8:30 p.m. Please come. Spike
I looked at my watch. Shit! It was 8:20 already! I closed the browser and hurried for the door. “Where ya goin’?” called Mackenzie as he was coming down the stairs. “None of your business,” I shot back and ran out the door. My little brother was so nosy. I pulled my Trek from the garage and pedaled toward The Grove as fast as I could. As it was, I’d be a little late. I hoped Spike didn’t think I was standing him up again. I doubted he’d give me another chance if I failed to show up this time. Plus I wanted to meet him. Guilt flashed through my head as I raced toward The Grove. What about C.T.? I really liked him. Wasn’t meeting up with Spike kind of like cheating on C.T.? Sure, we weren’t officially dating, but we had gone out. It felt like a date, although neither of us had put that name to it. I felt even more guilty because I’d intentionally put off talking to C.T. about our relationship. Part of that was because I was nervous about bringing it up. He might not be interested in me, after all. I was sixteen, short, and skinny. He was the same age, but taller, better built and way cuter than I was. That blond hair just made me… Anyway, I had to focus. The main reason I’d put off talking about us was because I wanted Spike. If C.T. and I started dating, Spike was out. There was something about Spike that drew me to him, something irresistibly sexy and arousing. I wanted to see what that was all about before I settled down with C.T. Spike was a bad boy I wanted to have fun with before getting myself a boyfriend. Did that make me a bad person? My thoughts zipped to Spike—those pics of him…yum. There seemed to be some direct connection between my eyes and little Toby, because when I looked at a shirtless pic of Spike, little Toby got instantly excited. He was about as worked up as he could get right now. My shorts were straining to keep him in. I pedaled up the dirt road that led into The Grove. After a bit, the ruts gave me enough trouble that I climbed off my bike and walked. Cars could navigate the old road well enough it seemed, but the ruts could throw a bike wheel. I begrudged the lost time and had to force myself to keep from running. I didn’t want to bolt into the clearing like some desperate, sex-starved boy, although that was a pretty accurate description of me.
Mark A. Roeder
182
I hit the button on the side of my watch, making the face glow blue. It was 8:35. I was late, but if Spike decided to leave, he’d have to drive right past me. There was only one road leading in and out. I forced myself to relax. I wanted to appear calm and cool when I met Spike. I glanced down at my clothes—old gym shorts from school and nearly worn out sneakers. At least I was wearing my tank top. It almost made me look like I had muscles. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping to get any tangles out of my curls before I met Spike. I wanted him to like me. I wanted him to want me. What if he didn’t—want me, that is? Spike was obviously way hotter than I was. He had muscles. I didn’t. What did Spike see in me? Maybe, he just saw me as a horny boy he could have sex with. I didn’t mind that. I’d already come to the conclusion our relationship wouldn’t go much beyond sex. We could be friends, but that was about it. Spike wasn’t the boyfriend type. That, too, was part of his appeal, but I was a little put out with myself for feeling that way. I pushed my bike into the clearing. There was no car. Shit! I’d missed him again. “Hey, Toby.” I turned quickly as someone stepped out from the trees. For a fleeting moment I thought it was Spike, but no, it was Billy. What was he doing here? “You look like you’re surprised to see me,” said Billy, coming closer. “Um, yeah.” Shit, this was exactly what I didn’t want to happen. What were the odds of us running into each other in The Grove again? Billy crossed the remaining feet between us before I knew it. He grabbed me, squeezing my biceps, but he didn’t start punching me. The expected blows did not come. Instead, he kissed me roughly. I pulled back, shocked, and wiped my mouth with my arm. Billy’s eyes were gleaming with anger. “What are you doing? I asked, confused and afraid. “Whatever I want,” said Billy in a smug, amused tone. “But…” “Haven’t figured it out yet, huh?” asked Billy. “Figured it out?” “Spike,” he said, releasing me. How did he know about Spike? “Mackenzie,” I said. “He’s been snooping on the computer hasn’t he?” I did my best to keep things hidden. I deleted files. I kept Spike’s pics on a floppy disk that I hid in my special hiding place. I deleted the internet history and even the temporary files. Mackenzie knew more about computers, though. Somehow, he’d
Mark A. Roeder
183
gotten into my e-mail or something and had told Billy all about my conversations with Spike. “Not a bad guess, but wrong,” said Billy, standing there with his arms crossed, smiling evilly at me. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. If I wasn’t so scared, he would’ve turned me on. “I don’t get it,” I said. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of brain. You really can’t figure it out?” “No,” I said, confused. I felt slightly stupid. I hated that he could do that to me. “There is no Spike, fag.” There is no Spike? “I…I don’t understand.” “Or, maybe I should put it this way—I’m Spike.” “No, I’ve seen his pics. I’ve…he called the house once when you were there.” “One of my friends called your house. I had him do it when I knew I’d be there, just to throw you off if you started figuring things out. I see I need not have bothered.” Billy was just screwing with me. That was it. “You have a crush on me,” said Billy. “Well, not a crush. You want me. You’re afraid of me, but you want me. I know all about it.” I swallowed hard. Had Mackenzie found something about that on the computer? Were my chats somehow recorded? “Want to know more? I can keep going. I can tell you everything you wrote to Spike, everything you said to him while you were chatting, because when you thought you were talking to Spike, you were talking to me. “Why do you think you ran into me the last time you tried to meet him, huh? Why do you think I’m here now? Do you think it’s just some kind of freaky coincidence? Spike wasn’t waiting on you last time, just like he’s not here this time, because there is no Spike.” My jaw dropped open. It was true. Why was Billy in The Grove twice when I’d come to meet Spike? It would’ve been a pretty amazing coincidence. “Shit!” I said out loud. Billy knew everything! “That’s right, fag. Brilliant plan, huh?” He grabbed me again, digging his fingers into my biceps once more. He kissed me, forcing his tongue into my mouth, and then he jerked away from me and slugged me in the face. “You disgust me,” he said. “You’re gay,” I shot back. It was obvious. Why else would he kiss me?
Mark A. Roeder
184
“No, I just like fucking with your mind, Toby. It’s a fun little toy.” He kissed me again and, once more, when he pulled his lips from mine, he hit me—this time in the stomach. I doubled over with a loud grunt of pain. “Mmmm, you’re even more fun to kiss than your brother.” “What?” I yelled, clutching my stomach. “No way! No way did you kiss Mackenzie!” “Way!” said Billy. “Oh, he’s not gay. That one’s as straight as an arrow, but I got him to do a few things as the price for making it with a girl. It was another brilliant scheme of mine. Imagine it, bending a straight boy—getting him to do something he’d never do otherwise.” Billy laughed. There was a crazed look in his eyes. My mind was reeling. I’d always had a low opinion of Billy, but he was lower than low. He’d actually manipulated my little brother into kissing him, and who knows what else? It was sick. “You’re mad! You stay away from my brother!” I yelled. “Oh, like you have anything to say about it. Fuck, you’re such a wuss.” I felt like crying. It was all too much. What he said was true. I was a wuss. Even Mackenzie could beat me up. “Enough talk!” said Billy. He jumped on me. He kissed me. His hands were all over me, touching me. My shirt ripped. I struggled, but it didn’t help much. Billy was stronger than I was. I screamed before he clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was useless. The Grove was deserted, except for the two of us. There was no Avery to rescue me this time. Billy hit me. He punched me in the stomach and the chest. When his hand slipped from my mouth, I said, “I’ll tell. Get off me or I’ll tell. They’ll arrest you.” “You won’t tell,” said Billy, laughing at me. “You want to keep your secret, don’t you? Besides, you’re far too much of a coward to tell anyone.” I struggled against him, but it was all but useless. Billy kissed me again, and then he reached down and felt me where he shouldn’t. He could tell I was excited. “You sick little faggot,” said Billy. He slugged me in the face. He kissed me yet again, and then pulled back for another punch, but someone rammed into him from the side. I couldn’t tell who for a moment in the failing light, but then I made out the features of my rescuer. It was Mackenzie! I raised myself up on my elbows, the pain in my gut making it difficult to sit up. I could hear more than see the scuffle in the darkness under the trees. I pain-
Mark A. Roeder
185
fully raised myself to a sitting position. I could make out Billy and Mackenzie rolling around on the ground, a mass of flailing fists and grunts of pain. I never thought Mackenzie would attack Billy, but there he was, saving me. I felt a wave of guilt and shame engulf me. My little brother had to save me. I was a year older than he was, but he had to fight my battles for me. Mackenzie wasn’t doing so well against Billy, though. Billy crawled up on top of him and pummeled him, yelling “Fucker!” Mackenzie was struggling, but Billy had him down. I screamed in a rage and launched myself at Billy. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and used the force of my lunge to get him off my brother. I began punching wildly, not aiming, just punching. I didn’t know how to fight, so I just hit whatever part of Billy I could reach. He slugged me in the face and I went down. I was on my back. I leaned up to see Billy coming at me again. Mackenzie was lying not far away, struggling to get to his feet. I had to say one thing for my little brother: He didn’t give up. Billy staggered toward me. He was almost on top of me. I saw my chance. I pulled my right leg up toward my chest and then shot my foot toward Billy’s crotch as hard as I could. I nailed him in the nads. Billy screamed in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his groin. I pulled myself to my feet, Mackenzie was by my side, breathing hard and wincing from pain. “Good shot, Toby,” said Mackenzie, looking down at Billy, writhing and moaning on the ground. “That’ll keep him out of it for a while. Come on, let’s get outta here.” I retrieved my Trek, and Mackenzie and I limped down the dirt road, supporting each other. Both of us were eager to get out of The Grove and away from Billy. I shuddered to think about what could’ve happened.
Mackenzie
I hobbled along beside my brother. When we cleared the darkness of the trees, I could see there was a little trickle of blood oozing from the side of his mouth. It was my fault, all my fault. I started crying. “Hey, Mackenzie, it’s okay. He’s not coming after us anytime soon,” said Toby. “It’s not that. I’m not afraid of Billy.” “Well, I am. Thanks for saving me back there.” “No. No. No! It’s my fault. It’s all my fault! He could’ve hurt you bad and it would’ve been my fault!” Toby glanced sideways at me. His expression was hurt. I confessed my sins to him. “I snooped in your stuff. I found your Undergear catalogs and those pictures of guys you’d torn out of magazines. I snooped on the computer, too. I found out you chatted on Gay.com. I found your screen name. I told Billy. He thought it would be funny to chat with you on the internet, mess with your head. I thought I could find out secrets. I didn’t know he was gonna take things so far! I never meant for you to get your feelings hurt, and I never meant for Billy to hit you!” I cried like a baby and then cried even harder when Toby comforted me. After the nasty things I’d done to him, he was still trying to make me feel better. “Don’t do that!” I practically screamed. “You should yell at me! You should hit me! You should nail me in the nuts like you did Billy! It’s what I deserve!” Toby stopped. He turned at me and held me in his gaze. The corners of his mouth were turned downward with sadness. - 186 -
Mark A. Roeder
187
“If you want to know the truth,” said Toby, “I’m hurt, I’m disappointed and I can’t believe you’d do something like this to me. I mean, you’re always a little pain in the ass, but you’ve never done anything malicious before.” “Malicious?” I asked. I hated it when he used big words. “It means you did something nasty, something to cause harm.” “Oh. I swear, Toby, I really didn’t mean for it to go so far! I told Billy we had to end it. I told him to stop. He said he’d make it fun for you, like a fantasy. I didn’t know he was going to set you up. I didn’t! I didn’t know he had anything like that planned until I got into your e-mail earlier this evening and saw he wanted to meet you. Then I knew something was up. Billy had been lying to me.” I pleaded with my big brother. I was afraid he wouldn’t love me anymore. “Mackenzie, I believe you. You’re annoying, you’re a smartass, you’re an irritant, but I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.” “Thanks, Toby. Thanks for believing me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” “Listen, it wasn’t all your fault, little bro. Billy’s some kind of psycho or somethin’. He was using you. He told me what he got you to do, at least part of it.” I looked away from Toby. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I wasn’t crying anymore, but tears were still leaking out. I felt ashamed, frightened and foolish. “I’m not gay,” I said, in a hoarse whisper. “I know, Mackenzie, I know.” “Not that it’s bad,” I said quickly. “I know I’ve made fun of you. I know I’ve done some terrible things, but it wasn’t because you being gay grossed me out or anything. It was just something to use against you—something to tease you about. I swear, Toby, you being gay is cool with me. I’m kinda worried about what people will think about me if they find out about you, but I’m okay with it. You’re still my brother, and it doesn’t change anything.” I meant what I said. I could tell Toby appreciated it. There were tears in his eyes as he smiled at me. He hugged me. “Thanks, Mackenzie.” We were nearly home. We walked up the sidewalk leading to the house and hobbled up the steps. Just as we reached the top, the front door and then the screen door opened. It was Dad. “You two have a lot of explaining to do.” Dad looked really ticked off. Mom about had a fit when she saw us both all messed up. She sent us off to the bathroom to clean up and then told us to report back to the kitchen. She awaited us there with bandages and some kind of cream that kept away infections. Dad looked on with crossed arms while she fixed us up. “Now,” he said when Mom was done. “Explain.”
Mark A. Roeder
188
Toby started to speak, but I cut him off. “It was my fault,” I said. “I talked Toby into coming with me to see Billy because I was scared. Billy has been acting really mean lately and I wanted to tell him we couldn’t be friends anymore, but I was afraid he’d try to hurt me.” Toby looked stunned for a moment, but wisely wiped the look off his face while I lied through my teeth. “I was right. When I told Billy we couldn’t be friends anymore, he punched me in the face. We fought. Billy got me down and was punching me when Toby pulled him off me and kicked his butt!” I noticed Dad smiled proudly at Toby for a moment, before remembering to be stern. “You both should have more sense!” said Mom. “Going out at night, without telling anyone where you were going to meet someone you knew might try to hurt you!” I bowed my head hoping to look sorry and ashamed, but I don’t think Mom bought it. “Mackenzie, you’re grounded for two weeks!” “But, Mom?” “Three!” she said. Her eyes were blazing. I knew better than to utter another word or I’d be looking at a month. “And you,” she said, rounding on Toby, “it’s commendable you wanted to protect your brother, but you should have told us instead. Understand?” “Yes,” said Toby. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” “That’s absolutely right!” said Mom. “You weren’t! One week, Toby. You go nowhere but work for a week.” Toby nodded. No doubt he received a lesser sentence because of his lack of a record. I, on the other hand, was in trouble more often than not. When we got back to our room, Toby turned to me and said, “Thanks for taking the heat for me down there. If they found out what really happened…” Toby shuddered. “It was the least I could do for my big bro, especially since it was my fault.” “It was Billy’s fault,” said Toby, angrily. “It’s probably not a good idea to meet someone off the internet like that,” I said. “There’re probably a lot of Billys out there.” “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t thinking. Well, I was, but I wasn’t thinking with my head. I was thinking with something else.” Toby pointed to his crotch. I laughed. “I think with my dick a lot too. I guess it’s not so smart.”
Mark A. Roeder
189
“So,” said Toby, “about this girl…Billy said he got you to kiss him so you could do something with a girl. What happened?” I grimaced at the mention of kissing Billy, but Toby wasn’t making fun of me. It was a kindness I didn’t deserve. “Actually, there were two different girls,” I said, grinning. Toby’s eyes widened and I told him about Mandy and Tami, playing down the stuff I’d done with Billy as much as possible. For the first time ever, Toby seemed like a buddy and not just a dorky older brother. Maybe I wouldn’t miss Billy so bad after all.
Orlando
Krista. Kerry. What had I gotten myself into? Or, more accurately, what had Kerry pulled me into. He’d seduced me, plain and simple. I’d been seduced by a boy when I wasn’t even attracted to boys. No, that wasn’t right. I was attracted to Kerry. How else could he have enticed me to have sex with him? I still didn’t understand it. I’d always been straight, at least as far as I knew. I’d never felt the slightest attraction for another guy, until Kerry. Maybe it wasn’t about sexual attraction, though. Maybe it was about forbidden fruit. Kerry was forbidden, in more ways than one. He wasn’t just another boy; he was my girlfriend’s brother. He was doubly taboo. Was there something about that that excited me? Was it the danger and illicitness of it and not Kerry himself I found so irresistible? Perhaps those things did entice me, but there was more. I had to admit the thrill of what we were doing, even though it was so very wrong. I was attracted to Kerry, though. There was no denying that fact. Even now, he was in my mind—those eyes, that hair, that face. His body was strong and chiseled, practically a work of art. Something about his chest made me want to caress it and…. I shuddered at the pure sexuality of it. My attraction to Kerry was painfully real, but also very much an enigma. I’d never thought about guys before, but I did now. There were some cute ones around. Did I have some kind of mental block that kept me from seeing that before? I couldn’t remember a single instance of being attracted to someone of my own sex before Kerry, but now I was beginning to see the guys around me in a new light. There were a few that…that I’d like to kiss. The thought didn’t so
- 190 -
Mark A. Roeder
191
much disturb me as surprise me. I felt as if a doorway to a long locked room had been opened in my soul. Kerry and I had done much more than kiss. My mind reeled with it. The feelings Kerry was able to create in my body with his hands, lips, and tongue were indescribable and intense—mind-blowing. I was still astounded he’d allowed me to enter him. That had to hurt, but he’d seemed to enjoy it as much as I. What had I become? There was no doubting my lust for girls, but this new lust for my own sex was just as powerful and perhaps more so. Had it been there all along, or had something or someone awakened it? Kerry. I wondered what would have been if our paths had never crossed. Would these desires and feelings have remained hidden inside me? And, would that have been a good or bad thing? I didn’t ask for this, but I had to admit this new world begged to be explored. Krista. I had to think about Krista. I cared for her, maybe even loved her. I wasn’t sure. Like I’d so recently learned, there was no black and white, only shades of gray. How did you know if you loved someone? Was there some sure sign? I’d never heard of one, only of vague hints. How did one know for sure? Perhaps that didn’t matter for the moment; what did was my relationship with Krista, and with Kerry. I found myself trapped, unwilling to give up either of them. After our first sexual encounter, I’d firmly decided never to be with Kerry again. It was obvious my resolve was less than firm on that one. One look at Kerry’s gleaming chest had been enough to topple the walls of my determination. I’d fallen into his arms again, and willingly. Now, sitting alone on my bed, I knew I didn’t want to stay away from Kerry. I wanted to experience the delights of his body, over and over again. I wanted Krista, too. Sexually, to be sure, but there was more to it than that— companionship and friendship. She made me laugh. I held my head in my hands and moaned. Why did it all have to be so hard? First, I had no one and now I had two someones. Kerry assured me we could continue without hurting Krista, but how likely was that? It was a small world, and Krista and Kerry lived in the same house. I knew in my heart I should stop seeing one, or the other or both of them. If just one, it had to be Kerry. I could hardly break up with Krista and say, “There’s someone else. I’m dating your brother.” We weren’t dating, actually, just fooling around. I wasn’t deluding myself. I knew our relationship was about sex and nothing more, but what sex! I’d never experienced the likes of it before! Of course, that didn’t mean much with me being a virgin and all, but I’d never dreamed it would be so good. At last, I
Mark A. Roeder
192
understood the meaning of ecstasy. Sex was like a drug that addicted instantly. I had to have more. There was something about Kerry, too, something about this relationship with another boy. I was developing feelings for Kerry, not unlike those I had for his sister—not as strong, but present and growing. Was I falling for him, too? That wasn’t a good thing, not because Kerry was a guy, but because I knew he could never return my affection. It was just a game to him, just sex. Who knew how many guys he’d slept with, or how many girls? Kerry was the kind that could go through life without feeling too strongly. It was a trait I did not possess. What could I do? ✶
✶
✶
✶
Krista and I were watching a movie in her living room. Kerry was home. He’d given me a knowing grin. My eyes devoured him in his worn jeans and cut-off t-shirt that exposed his well-muscled abdomen. The mere sight of him aroused me. I had to sit quickly and pull a pillow over my lap to hide it. I was glad Kerry didn’t remain in the room. I put my arm around Krista and she settled into my side. The closeness comforted me, but I felt like a louse. I’d been cheating on her. It seemed impossible— me, the boy who’d yearned for a girlfriend, actually cheating on her. The world was not a simple place, however, and I’d not reckoned with Kerry and my newly awakened desires. Halfway through the movie, I went upstairs to go to the bathroom. When I came back out, Kerry was standing there. He reached to his sides and pulled off his shirt, beckoning me with his finger. My eyes fell to his chest and I followed— a lamb to the slaughter. Kerry led me into his room and pushed the door to behind us. He kissed me passionately on the lips. Our tongues entwined. “This is crazy,” I said. “You sister’s right downstairs.” “That’s what makes it so fucking exciting,” said Kerry, grinning. “Now get on your knees, boy.” Kerry pressed down on my shoulder with his hand. The pressure was hardly necessary. I was under his spell. I gladly sank to my knees before him. I reached up and popped the button on his jeans and then pulled down the zipper. Kerry was wearing nothing underneath. I pushed his jeans to the floor, leaned and pulled him into my mouth.
Mark A. Roeder
193
Moments later, I have no idea how many, there was a stifled cry just after the door to Kerry’s room opened. I looked up to see Krista staring at me in horror. It was the ultimate nightmare. She turned and fled. The damage had been done. “Fuck,” said Kerry. I thought the word pretty much summed up the situation. I pulled away from Kerry and stood, no longer under the spell of his body. I walked down the stairs in a daze. Krista was on the couch, crying. When I neared her she looked up and said, “Go. Just go.” I ran for the door, flinging it open. I was out of the house and tearing down the street before the screen door even slammed shut behind me. What had I done?
Toby
I’d never felt like such a fool in my entire life. The boy with whom I’d shared my secrets, dreams, fantasies and desires didn’t even exist. I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to send pictures of myself to someone I didn’t even know. Then, in the most idiotic and foolish move of all, I’d actually gone to meet him. Being beaten by Billy was bad enough, but I realized I’d probably gotten off lucky—not only because Mackenzie had come running to my aid, but because someone much, much worse than a fifteen-year-old bully could’ve been waiting for me. What if Spike had turned out to be a full-grown man or a group of college-aged gay bashers? What if he’d been a kidnapper, or child molester, or murderer? Mackenzie saved my butt by lying to Mom and Dad. If they would’ve found out what I’d done, I’d have been lectured about it until the end of time. They would have been justified doing so, too. I didn’t need any lectures from my parents. I lectured myself. I realized what could’ve happened, even with Billy. If Mackenzie hadn’t come along…Billy frightened me now as he never had before. There was something in his eyes as he attacked me. It wasn’t the mischievous glint I’d seen as he tormented me alongside Mackenzie; it was something more, something sinister. I kept thinking about how Billy kept kissing me and then punching me. His kisses were passionate. When his lips met mine, he kissed me as if he’d been waiting forever to do so, but then he pulled back and there was fierce anger in his eyes, as if he was infuriated I’d kissed him. Then, the blows came. He hit me with all the power he could muster. Had I experienced the beginnings of a rape? If - 194 -
Mark A. Roeder
195
Mackenzie hadn’t come, would Billy have raped and maybe killed me too? I’d seen some show on TV that said rape was an act of violence, not of sex. When Billy attacked me, it felt like violence and sex combined. It terrified me as nothing had before. I’d always thought I was smart, but recent events taught me otherwise. I’d been completely taken in by Billy, by someone who never seemed that intelligent. I had to reevaluate my thinking. If I was wrong about this, what else was I wrong about? One thing was for sure. I was going to be much more careful on the internet. I’d probably never be able to talk to another guy again without wondering if it was Billy, or someone like him, messing with my head. In the near future, at least, I was going to limit myself to just chatting. I wasn’t going to meet up with anyone, no matter how hot he was. If I did meet a boy off the internet again someday, I was damned well going to meet him in a public place. I’d never again be as reckless as I had been with Spike. ✶
✶
✶
✶
Krista’s eyes were filled with silent tears when I met her in the employee lounge at Phantom World. When I asked her what was wrong, she just shook her head, as if unable to speak. She walked along beside me, silently, as we made our way to the Water Demon. I didn’t try to speak to her, as it was obvious that she was trying to control her emotions and put on a happy face for the guests. It looked like I wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad night. Krista was in such a state she never even asked me about my bruised face. During the night, more than one part of my face had turned purplish-black where Billy had slugged me. If I’d taken off my shirt, the marks of what had happened would’ve been even more evident. I had big bruises on my chest, as well as small bruises on my arms left by Billy where he’d painfully dug his fingers into my biceps. My stomach had no such marks, but my gut still faintly ached. “Where’s Orlando?” I asked. He was scheduled to work with us, but he was no where to be seen. Krista burst out crying all over again at my question. I felt horribly guilty for increasing her pain, although I didn’t know quite what I’d done. I was suddenly fearful. Had something bad happened to Orlando? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to make Krista cry, so I swallowed the question as it formed on my lips. Krista managed to put herself together before any guests got in line, but her smile was forced and fake. The guests probably didn’t notice, but I knew her well
Mark A. Roeder
196
enough to read the pain in her eyes. I felt for her and wished I could make her troubles go away. I worried about Orlando. The feelings I’d had for him before he and Krista started dating returned. I had a crush on him still—no mistake. My heart ached with the thought he could by lying in a hospital, hurt, and maybe dying. I knew he could never be the boyfriend I’d wanted, but that didn’t keep me from caring about him. At the very least, he was a friend; but Orlando was more than that to me. I’d always have feelings for him. I shook myself out of my thoughts. There was no use in getting worked up until I knew what had gone down. If I allowed myself to worry about all the bad things that could’ve happened to him, I’d be bawling my eyes out in no time at all. That wouldn’t help Krista. I just had to bide my time. I’d find out. That time didn’t come until lunch. As Krista and I sat silently eating chicken strips and fries, I summoned the courage to poise the question. “Did something happen to Orlando?” Krista looked at me. She could read the fear in my eyes. She put her hand on my shoulder. “No, Toby, he’s fine. Nothing happened to him.” Tears welled up in her eyes again. I pulled her to me and hugged her. When she released me after a couple of minutes, I peered into her eyes. “I don’t want to pry or be nosy,” I said, “but, if you want to talk about whatever’s bothering you, I’m here.” “Orlando cheated on me,” Krista said flatly. The suddenness of her response shocked me after her silence. “Cheated on you?” I asked, incredulously. “With some girl who works in the park?” I suddenly felt guilty for being so nosy. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.” “He cheated on me with another guy.” “A guy?” I asked, more shocked than ever before. “With my brother.” My jaw would’ve dropped to the ground if it were possible. I was in total shock. “I’m really, really sorry,” I said. “Hey,” said Krista, “there’s a lot of fish in the sea, right?” I could tell she wasn’t nearly as optimistic as she was pretending. “Yeah, that’s true. I just wish they were easier to catch.” I tried not to let my own disappointment come through in my voice, but my options were disappearing one by one.
Mark A. Roeder
197
Krista reached out and ran her fingers through my hair. “You’ll find someone, Toby; you have a lot to offer.” I smiled. “So do you.” “Now why can’t I find a guy like you?” “That wouldn’t help you,” I said. “I’m gay, remember.” “At least you’re open about what you are.” “So, um, Orlando’s bi, I guess? Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking.” “No, it’s okay. I kind of want to talk about it and you’re the only one I feel I can share this with.” That made me feel good inside. “He must be bi,” said Krista, “unless he was faking things with me. We never…we never made love, but we kissed and…well, let’s just say I know he was excited by it.” I nodded my head. “There’s no doubt he’s attracted to guys, too. I walked in on him and my brother. They were…” she shuddered. “It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to say it.” “It’s not really the fact that I found him with another guy. It’s not even that he was cheating on me with my very own brother. What really hurts is just the fact he cheated on me, period. I thought he cared about me, maybe even loved me, but…I don’t understand how he could do this.” “Maybe…” I said slowly, trying to clarify my thoughts and put them into words, “maybe Orlando was torn somehow. I’m not bi, so I don’t know what that’d be like. But, maybe there’s something he needs he can only get from a guy, you know? I’m not defending what he did. I’d never cheat on someone I cared about, but maybe it’s harder for him. What’s it like being bi? Think about it, no matter who you date, you can’t really have what you want. If you’re with a boy, you don’t have a girl. If you’re with a girl, you don’t have a boy.” “I never thought about it like that.” “I may be wrong. I’m just trying to understand. Orlando doesn’t seem the type to do something like this.” “I’d have thought the same before I walked in on him and caught him.” “Yes. I’m just saying that maybe that’s the reason he cheated.” Krista looked off into space for several moments without speaking. “I guess it should make me feel a little better, knowing he cheated on me with a boy. It’s somehow not as bad if it’d been a girl. In a way, it’s worse, more of a shock, but then again, maybe you’re right. Maybe he needed something I just couldn’t give him—something no girl could give him.”
Mark A. Roeder
198
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked. “Yes. Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not the day after that. But, I’m going to be okay eventually. It hurts to be betrayed by someone I cared about. It makes me feel like I can’t trust anyone, present company excepted, of course, but I’m not going to lie down and die over this. I may need a shoulder to cry on for a while, though,” she said, tearing up once more. “Mine’s always here for you Krista.” She leaned her head on my shoulder and I kissed her forehead. I put my arms around her and held her as if keeping her safe from the world. I was glad I could be there for her when she needed me. That was what being a friend was all about. ✶
✶
✶
✶
Krista and I went our separate ways after lunch. As I headed for the donut booth, I saw Orlando wandering in the other direction. There was a crowd between us, and he didn’t see me, but he had the same stricken look on his face I’d seen on Krista’s. I knew I should be angry with him for what he’d done to Krista, but I couldn’t help but pity him. I had plenty of time to think while I was selling donuts. I was relieved Orlando wasn’t hurt or dead. The news Krista had given me was sure a shocker though. I’d never seen this one coming. I guess Orlando wasn’t quite as unobtainable as I’d thought, but I didn’t know if I wanted him now, not after what he’d done to Krista. Loyalty was something important to me, and his lack of faithfulness was disturbing. I’d reserve judgment until I knew the whole story, if ever. I didn’t think I could date Orlando in any case. It would be too weird going out with Krista’s old boyfriend when I was friends with her. Orlando was attractive in many ways, but not as attractive as before. He certainly wasn’t worth the risk of damaging my relationship with Krista. I guess that only left C.T. He was my last possibility, at least for the time being. I felt guilty I’d put things off with him so I could hook up with Spike. I guess I’d been punished for that. In the future, I was going to think for myself and not let little Toby do my thinking for me—well, at least as much as I could manage. I worked The Scrambler with C.T. on my next shift. Was it just that I knew he was my last chance or was he looking cuter than ever? I loved that blond hair of his, especially the way his bangs fell down into his eyes. I hoped he’d never get those bangs trimmed.
Mark A. Roeder
199
I eyed C.T. as we worked. He was cute and I liked his slim body and nice little butt. I feared I was thinking too much with little Toby again, so I shifted gears. I had fun with C.T. Going to see Young Abe Lincoln with him was a blast! The only thing that could’ve made it better was if we’d made out in the back of his car afterward. I wanted to take things slowly. I’d been all too willing to throw caution to the wind and just go for it with Spike, and look where that’d got me. I was going to take things one step at a time with C.T. I’d see if he was interested in me. That would be the first step. If he was, I’d work on getting him to kiss me, and then we’d take it from there. Actual sex could wait until later. Even though my body was demanding it right now, it would just have to be patient. I nervously asked C.T. if he’d like to have supper with me and he eagerly agreed. I took that as a good sign. I might actually have a boyfriend before it grew dark. Who knew? C.T. and I both ordered pizza and drinks for supper. Instead of sitting on a bench, I guided him to a grassy area behind The Graymoor Mansion where we could watch The Poltergeist, and, more importantly, where I could speak with him in private. I was going to have a hard enough time without strangers listening in. I found it hard to speak. I’d been able to say all kinds of things to Spike and others on the internet, but talking to C.T. face to face was quite another thing. The cars of the giant roller coaster roared as we enjoyed our pepperoni pizza. I tried to summon the courage to make my mouth work. Finally, I just set my pizza down and turned to C.T. I knew I’d never ask him what I wanted to ask if I didn’t force myself. “C.T., I really had fun when we went out and I really like you, so…I was wondering if you wanted to…like…date me.” I hoped my words didn’t sound as stupid to him as they did to me. I’d wanted to be cooler about it. I guess I should’ve just been glad I didn’t stutter and get all tongue-tied. C.T. put down his pizza. “Um, Toby…I have fun with you too, but…I’m not interested in guys, not like that. You’re cool as a friend and all, but I can’t…well, you know.” I was crushed, but at the same time a slight giggle escaped from my lips. “C.T., I understand if you don’t want to date me. I know I’m not the hottest guy around, but you are gay, right?” “No.” “Come on…I mean…”
Mark A. Roeder
200
“I know what you mean!” said C.T., suddenly angry. “God! I’m so sick of this! Why does everyone assume I’m gay?” He skewered me with his eyes. I found it hard to speak. “Well, you’re…you…you’re obviously gay.” It was the wrong thing to say. C.T. turned red and actually trembled with fury. “Listen!” said C.T. “I know I have a soft voice and maybe I lisp a little bit. Yeah, I use my hands as much as my mouth when I talk, but I’m not gay!” “I’m…I’m sorry. I just assumed.” “Everyone assumes! Shit! You know that real cute girl, Rebecca, who we worked with last week in the Skee-Ball Pavilion? Well, I asked her out and you know what she did? She laughed. She thought it was a joke. She didn’t even believe me when I said I was straight! Do you have any idea how much that hurts?” “Uh, no,” I said. “I’m so tired of everyone just assuming that about me. I’m gonna die a virgin, because everyone has this stupid idea that I’m queer!” “I’m really sorry,” I said, feeling extremely stupid and uncomfortable. “I hope…I hope you’ll still be my friend.” C.T. glared me for a moment, but then said, “Of course I’ll still be your friend. You’re a cool guy, Toby, and you’re a lot of fun. We have much in common. I’m sorry. I know I probably overreacted, but I’ve just had to put up with this shit so many times…” “Are you okay with me being gay?” “Dude, I don’t care about that,” said C.T. “What about me…well, I just asked you out. I’m so embarrassed.” “It’s okay, Toby. Listen, I can’t like you like that, okay? As long as you understand that, we’re cool.” “It won’t bother you that I asked you out? I mean, I have feelings for you. I…” “It’s okay, Toby. Unlike some guys, I don’t get all freaked out if I think another guy is attracted to me, and believe me I’ve been approached by quite a few. Like you, they assume I’m gay, so they think it’s safe. We’re cool, man. I just hope you didn’t take anything I said the wrong way. I’m not down on gays.” I nodded, feeling both foolish and relieved at the same time. “Friends,” I said, extending my hand. “Friends,” said C.T., shaking it. “And if you wanna go out tonight, as friends, it’s cool.”
Mark A. Roeder
201
I smiled, but the smile quickly faded. “Ah crap, I just remembered. I’m grounded for a week!” “So we’ll go out next week then,” said C.T. My smile returned.
Mackenzie
I wasn’t sure how to deal with Toby’s forgiving attitude. Sure, I was glad he wasn’t going to be pissed at me forever, but it seemed worse somehow than if he’d hit me or screamed at me or something. I was grounded for a couple of weeks, but that hardly seemed to cover it. I’d been grounded that long for telling off Mr. Nichols at school, and he totally deserved it. There was no getting Toby to go off on me, though, so I just had to deal with it. I didn’t like how it put me on the hook. I felt like I had to be nice to him now. I was in the mood to be kinder to him, but one of the true joys of my life was irritating Toby. How long could I survive without doing it? Being grounded was driving me crazy. It was all well and good for Toby. He could go to work and be outside in the sun. Sentenced to detention in an amusement park; how weak was that? I was stuck indoors. I was already dying for the feel of the sun on my face. I didn’t mind that Toby had it easy. He deserved it, but that didn’t help me endure my imprisonment. I had a lot of time to think about Billy while I was stuck in the house. He’d played me for a fool. I should’ve known something wasn’t quite on the up and up, especially when he wanted to blackmail Toby. I thought he’d backed down from that idea, but I guess he hadn’t. He’d just taken it underground and worked on Toby behind my back. Knowing what I did now, some things I hadn’t given a second thought before began to stand out—like how Billy was always talking about Toby. It was always some putdown or joke, but I wondered now if there wasn’t more to it than I’d thought at the time. I don’t know if Toby told me everything, but he had told me - 202 -
Mark A. Roeder
203
about Billy kissing him and feeling him. Was Billy queer? I’d had some suspicions about that before, but now I was pretty certain. Well, he was most likely bi, but he’d sure been after my brother, and he’d been after me. I was growing suspicious about everything. Was Billy so willing to do it with me to get to Mandy and Tami because he wanted me as bad as them? I had thought Billy was my friend, but he’d used me. I’d played right into his hands, too. He must’ve been delighted when I told him about Toby’s Undergear catalogs and about his Gay.com screen name. Maybe he’d been after something like that all along. I’d been used and I didn’t like it. I wanted to kick Billy’s ass, but he was stronger than I was. I hopped on the Bowflex and worked off some of my frustration. I liked to feel my muscles working. Maybe I could keep working out and then go and beat Billy senseless. That’s what he deserved. Toby and I could’ve worked him over good, but I was hurting so bad I didn’t feel up to it. At least Toby had nailed him in the nuts. He got him so hard it almost hurt my balls just watching. I hoped Billy would never be able to have kids. Working out got me all hot and sweaty, but it didn’t keep me busy nearly long enough. Being grounded sure sucked in the summer. It was way worse than being grounded during school. Of course, now that Billy wasn’t my friend, there wasn’t as much to do. Of course, I could’ve hooked up with some of my other friends. I’d been kind of neglecting them. I hoped they weren’t pissed. If they were, I deserved it. I’d messed up just about everything. By the time Toby came back from Phantom World, I was pacing the room like a caged tiger. I felt like a lightning bolt with nowhere to strike. Toby sat down at his desk and started reading. It was a wonder Mom and Dad even bothered to ground him. For Toby, it wasn’t a punishment. It was just a chance to escape to one of his fictional worlds. I looked at the book he was reading: Prince Caspian. He was working his way through The Chronicles of Narnia again. He must’ve read it five times already. Someone had to save the boy. “Hey, Toby, wanna work out with me?” Toby looked up from his book suspiciously. I guess I couldn’t blame him for that. “Come on, really, work out with me? You can get all buff, and maybe it’ll help you get a boyfriend.” Toby smiled sadly. “I don’t think anything will help me with that.” “Ah, come on, bro. You’re okay. You’ll find someone. Work out with me?”
Mark A. Roeder
204
I’d used the Bowflex not all that long ago, but it wouldn’t hurt me to do it again. Besides, I wanted to start doing at least a few things with my brother, and Billy sure wouldn’t be my workout partner anymore. “Okay,” he said, putting down his book. He walked over to the machine. “I don’t really know how to do this.” “It’s easy. I’ll show ya. We’ll start with bench presses.” Toby was pathetically weak, but I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I encouraged him all I could. I owed him that much. To my surprise, he seemed to like working out. I was willing to bet he’d never touched a weight machine in his entire life. It’d do him good for sure. Also to my surprise, I found myself enjoying my time with Toby. He was more fun than I’d remembered. When I was real little, he used to play with me. I remembered us building whole cities in the sandbox and driving cars and trucks around in it. We’d have crashes and fires and usually destroy the whole city, pretending it was an earthquake or something. I’d lost Billy as a friend, but maybe I’d gained a new one in my brother. After we worked out, Toby returned to his book and I went back to pacing. “I can’t stand this,” I said. “I’m going out.” “If you get caught, Mom and Dad will just ground you for longer,” said Toby. It was true. “Cover for me?” I asked. It was something I’d never asked of Toby before. “Okay,” he said, smiling mischievously. I was shocked and wondered if I was rubbing off on him. I made a fake me in my bed. “Just tell Mom or Dad I’m taking a nap if they come in and ask. I promise I won’t be gone long. I’ve just gotta go run or something.” “I’ll cover you,” said Toby, a bit nervously. I smiled and slipped out the window. Our room was upstairs, but I’d climbed down the trellis many times before. I was careful to avoid the thorns from the roses. There were dozens of them, all red and climbing their way to our window. I was surrounded by their scent as I lowered myself to the ground. It was still pretty light out, but I took care to creep under the windows and then bolt for the hedge so Mom or Dad wouldn’t see me leave. The sun was almost gone, but at least I was outside. I started running, feeling like I’d escaped from a cage. Ah, freedom! I ran down the sidewalks and streets until my breath came in gasps and my side hurt. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering my face, and my shirt stuck to my body. It felt good. I slowed to a walk and soon found myself in the park. I was hoping maybe I’d find one of my
Mark A. Roeder
205
friends there, but no such luck. There were plenty of people out enjoying the beautiful evening, but no one I knew. I stopped to gaze at the setting sun. The sky was all red and purple, and the few clouds were lit up and almost looked as if they were on fire. I rarely took the time to look at sunsets. That was a Toby thing, but if he could work out, then I could stop and look at a sunset. “Hey, loser,” said a voice behind me. It was Billy. I turned and fixed him with a stare. “What do you want?” I asked angrily. “Dude, chill. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” “Sorry for taking advantage of Toby? For beating him up and doing whatever else it was you were doing to him? Sorry for beating me up?” “Hey, man, you attacked me. I was just defending myself.” “Bullshit! Were you defending yourself from Toby, too? You lured him out there. You…” “Chill, Mackenzie. It’s not that big of a deal.” “It is to Toby, and it is to me.” I couldn’t believe Billy was trying to blow everything off like it just didn’t matter, like he’d done nothing wrong. “That’s your problem, Mackenzie. You get all worked up over nothing.” “Nothing? Like you trying to get me to have sex with you was nothing?” “We’ve been all through that! That was just to get to Mandy and Tami.” “Yeah, sure it was. If I asked Tami about it, what would she say? Would she tell me it was her idea or yours?” A flicker of discomfort flashed across Billy’s eyes, but only for a moment. “Like Tami would even speak to the likes of you.” “If she’ll talk to you, she’ll talk to anybody,” I said. I knew I was asking to get my butt kicked, but I didn’t care. If Billy came at me, I’d try to nail him in the nuts like Toby did. “You’re a waste of my time, Mackenzie.” “And you’re a lousy friend. I wish we’d never been friends.” “Well, guess what? Your wish is granted, because we never were friends, Mackenzie. You were never cool enough to be my friend. I thought there was hope for you, but you’ll never be cool! You’re just a pathetic loser like your brother!” Billy turned on his heel and walked away. I just stood there and watched him go, taking my one chance to be accepted with him. Billy was my ticket for getting into the cool crowd, but I felt no regret whatsoever as he disappeared into the distance. If I had to be like Billy to be cool, then Billy was right, I’d never be cool. It was too high a price to pay.
Mark A. Roeder
206
I glanced at the last moments of the sunset. I felt like I had to start my life all over. It didn’t scare me, though; instead, it gave me a feeling of freedom. I could be anyone I wanted to be. One thing was for sure. I wasn’t about to be another Billy. When the last rays of the sun had disappeared, I walked home. I didn’t want my brother to get in trouble for me. I’d realized at last who my real friend was.
Orlando
I went into work early the day after Krista caught me with Kerry. I had my schedule changed so I wouldn’t have to work with her. I couldn’t face her, not yet. So this was what it felt like to be the bad guy? I knew I’d done wrong. I’d known it all along, but I didn’t have the willpower to resist Kerry, and it had cost me my girlfriend and my self-respect. I wanted to lay the blame on Kerry, but I couldn’t. He was far from innocent, but he hadn’t forced me into anything, as he’d pointed out. It’s not like he’d raped me. It’s not like I couldn’t have walked away at any moment. I chose to do what I did with him. I wanted it. I chose not to walk away from what I knew was wrong. If I hadn’t been dating Krista, it would’ve been different, but I was dating her. I could’ve broken up with her and then seen Kerry, but I didn’t do that either. I just plodded along, letting Kerry lead me into things I knew I shouldn’t be doing. I’d fallen from my pedestal. I knew I had to face Krista. I had to give her the chance to scream at me and spit in my face. I owed her that. Even if I’d been cowardly enough to hide from her, I couldn’t have kept it up forever. Much of the summer still lay ahead, and our paths were bound to cross. I couldn’t do it quite yet, however. I needed some time. I tried to lose myself in Phantom World. I tried to find the joy I’d discovered previously in the flowers, the roar of the roller coasters and the laughter of the guests. It was odd how I could be in the same place, seeing the same things, and yet feel so differently about it all. I supposed I’d be happy again someday, but I didn’t even feel I deserved happiness anymore. - 207 -
Mark A. Roeder
208
My eyes met those of my former girlfriend as I was clocking out at the end of my day. I put my timecard away and stepped outside, waiting for her. I wasn’t ready to face her, but would I ever be ready? On the spur of the moment, I decided to get it over with. Krista came out, saw me, and then turned to go the other way. “Krista, wait,” I called out. She stopped, but didn’t turn to look at me. “I’m sorry,” I said. She turned. Her eyes finally met mine, and they had tears in them. “Is that all you have to say?” “No. I know you hate me now and that I’ve ruined everything between us. I’m sorry for that, because, whether you believe it or not, I really care about you.” “You had a funny way of showing it.” I didn’t retort. I deserved what she’d said and I knew it. “I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t even understand myself. I don’t know why I did what I did. I was weak. I gave into a temptation I didn’t even know was there. Kerry was the first…well, that doesn’t matter and it doesn’t excuse anything I did. I’m just sorry I did it. I thought I was better than that, but I guess I was wrong.” Krista just looked at me, her eyes glistening with tears. I knew I’d hurt her, and I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself for that. “I don’t know what else to say,” I said, “except that I’m sorry—sorry for everything.” Krista gazed into my eyes one last time and walked away without a word. Just before she was out of sight, I whispered, “Goodbye, Krista” and shed tears of my own. I wiped my face and started to walk home. It was a long hike, but I needed the time to think. I almost couldn’t believe how badly I’d screwed up my life. Things like this didn’t happen to me. They happened to someone else. There was nothing to do but go on. I guess my only real choice was to learn what I could from my mistakes and try to be better for it. What I really wanted to do was lie down in the dirt and die, but I couldn’t. My mom depended on me. I couldn’t leave her. I just hoped she’d never find out how much like my father I’d become. I walked on, my thoughts unusually quiet. It was as if my brain knew it needed a rest. I was thankful for that small mercy. My thoughts had left me no peace since Krista opened that door and saw me on my knees in front of her brother.
Mark A. Roeder
209
Some fifteen minutes later, the all too familiar Camaro passed me, slowed and pulled to the side of the road. Kerry got out and waited for me to catch up to him. He was shirtless again, but wearing jeans this time. Despite everything, I was tempted by him and I hated myself for it. “You look like someone who could use a ride,” said Kerry. “Not from you.” I was going to walk on past him, but he grabbed my arm and forced me to stop. “Hey, Orlando, I’m sorry about what happened.” “Are you?” “Hell, yeah! Krista’s mega-pissed at me.” “Well, Krista’s no longer my girlfriend.” “I’m sorry, but, that kinda makes things easier, doesn’t it?” “I can’t believe you!” I said, angrily. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for Krista to see us. You know I didn’t. I wish it hadn’t happened, but what’s done is done. She’ll get over it and so will you. We might as well make the best of it.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Come on, man. You know you like it with me. You know you want more.” I started to walk away again. Kerry grabbed me and pushed me up against the car, his muscular body mere inches from mine as he held me in place with his arm across my chest. “You—know—you—want—it,” he said slowly and seductively. He pushed himself against me, my excitement was obvious. Kerry smiled. He just held himself against me for several moments, gazing seductively into my eyes. I felt myself weakening. I wanted him so bad I could hardly stand it. I felt as if he held me pinned to the car forever, although it was mere seconds. My heart raced. “Get off me!” I yelled and shoved him away. I stalked off. Not this time, I told myself. “You’ll be back,” said Kerry. I turned on my heel and stared at him. He was gorgeous on the outside, but what was inside was far less attractive. “Don’t you even care what you’ve done?” I asked. Kerry didn’t answer. I turned away from him once more and left him standing beside his car.
Mark A. Roeder
✶
✶
✶
210
✶
“Cheer up, man. You walked away from him in the end,” said Eddie. “Yeah, but I should’ve walked away from him the first time, and who’s to say I will the next?” “You just have to take life one day at a time, Orlando. Don’t try to live your whole future.” I shook my head. Eddie seemed to have grown wiser in the last few weeks. “Hey, why don’t I ever see you smoking weed anymore?” I asked. “I’ve started dating an older woman, and she said I had to cut it out,” said Eddie, a bit sheepishly. “An older woman?” “Yeah.” “Why haven’t you told me about her?” “You’ve had enough to think about lately.” “I guess that’s true.” “And, well…I was waiting until I could come up with the right way to tell you. I didn’t want you freaking out or getting upset or something.” “How old is this older woman?” “Your mom’s age.” “Man, that is older. Is that even legal?” “Yeah, just barely, but it is. She’s wonderful, Orlando. I’ve never met anyone like her before. I can’t believe she said yes when I asked her out.” “I’m happy for you, Eddie. You deserve someone nice. At least one person I know has someone.” “Actually, two,” said Eddie. He suddenly found his shoes to be of great interest. “Two?” “Yeah. You know how I said she was your mom’s age? Well, she’s exactly your mom’s age—exactly.” Eddie looked at me again. He was peering into my eyes, seeking for comprehension. It was almost as if he was saying…but that wasn’t even possible. Eddie kept staring at me, his face reddening. “You don’t mean…” “I’m dating your mom, dude.” I just stared at Eddie. It had to be a joke. “That’s real funny, Eddie.”
Mark A. Roeder
211
“I’m serious, Orlando. I’m not jerking you around.” His tone was solemn, more sober than I’d ever heard before. I just sat there as moments stretched into minutes. Finally, Eddie put his hand on my shoulder. “We’re best friends, Orlando. I know this might weird you out, but I really like your mom. She says I make her feel young again. I don’t know where things between us will go, but I’ll take care of her, man. I won’t hurt her.” “Whoa,” I said, shaking my head. I started to speak, but no words would come out. What could I say? “Whoa.” “If it bothers you, I’ll stop seeing her,” said Eddie, “but I really care about her.” I could tell from the look in his eyes it was true, but still, I didn’t speak. “So, what do you say?” asked Eddie. Never, in a million years, would I have ever thought I’d be sitting there by Eddie, with him asking permission to date my mom. It was like something off a soap opera. Mom had been alone for a long time, though. The string of losers she’d dated hadn’t made her happy. I wanted her to be happy, more than anything. Eddie was my best friend. He was kind of a burnout in some ways, but he was also a real nice guy. Now that I thought about it, he was probably the nicest guy Mom could find. I was a little freaked out by my best friend dating my mom, but did it really matter? “Who am I to stand in the way of true love?” I said at last. “You mean it?” asked Eddie. I thought before answering. “Yeah, I do.” We sat there in silence for a bit more, and then Eddie turned to me. “Don’t worry, dude. Like I said, if we get married, I won’t make you call me daddy.” I looked at Eddie and a laugh escaped from my lips. It was the first since Krista had discovered me with her brother. Boy, was life weird or what?
Toby
“Mind if I sit here?” I looked up. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t seen Orlando approach. That was no surprise. I was taking little note of the dozens of park guests walking past, so one boy could hardly be expected to draw my attention. “I guess Krista told you about…” began Orlando, but his voice faltered. The calliope music of the merry-go-round wafted through the air, an odd contrast to Orlando’s serious expression. “Yes,” I said. “You hurt her.” “I know.” That was all Orlando said for several moments. Finally, he spoke again. “I didn’t mean to.” I gazed at him. It’d been a long time since I’d seen anyone that downcast. Orlando’s expression, the tears that rimmed his eyes, and the slump of his shoulders spoke volumes more than his words. “I should go,” said Orlando, “you don’t want to be near me. I’m filth.” I grabbed his wrist as he stood. “Sit,” I said. He did as he was told. “Nobody’s perfect.” “Yeah, well, I’m about as far away as you can get,” said Orlando. “Why did you do it?” I asked him. “Why did you cheat on Krista?” “Stupidity, sheer stupidity, weakness and lust.” “She said you cheated on her with her brother.” Orlando looked supremely embarrassed. “Yes,” he admitted, “I did. I let him seduce me. I just wasn’t ready for Kerry. I’d never faced that before. I didn’t even know I liked guys.” - 212 -
Mark A. Roeder
213
“You didn’t know?” I asked, forgetting to keep the incredulous tone out of my voice. “No, I didn’t. Crazy, isn’t it?” “I’ve known since I was eight.” Orlando turned quickly and looked at me. “So, you’re…” “Gay,” I finished for him. “I’m bi, I guess,” said Orlando. “Here lately, I’m just not sure of anything. I’m so confused.” “Life’s not easy, is it?” “It sure isn’t. Krista is really heartbroken, isn’t she?” “Yes. She’ll get over it, but it’ll take time.” “I’m so sorry I hurt her, so sorry,” said Orlando. The tears rimming his eyes very nearly spilled out. “I know,” I said, hoping to comfort him. I didn’t like what he’d done to Krista, not at all, but it was obvious Orlando wasn’t just some cheating bastard who got his kicks from breaking girls’ hearts. He was in pain, too, and I found myself feeling as sorry for him as for Krista. “It’s an ill wind that blows no one any good,” I said. Orlando peered at me, “Shakespeare?” “I think. I’ve never read it. I just heard that somewhere and it seems to apply.” “Does it ever!” “We all make mistakes, Orlando.” “Even you?” I laughed. “When did I become perfect? My mistakes could fill volumes. I just finished days and days of chatting with someone on the internet who wasn’t even real. This is what I got for it,” I said, pointing to the bruises on my face. “You got beat up?” “Yep, because I was stupid. It could’ve been worse.” “I’m sorry.” “I’m not,” I said. “I learned something. I got hurt, in more ways than one, but I think I came away with more than I paid for.” “Kerry…” said Orlando. “I’m so weak when he’s around. After all that’s happened, I very nearly went with him again. I came so close to letting him seduce me yet again, even after I’d broken Krista’s heart.” “But you didn’t?” “No. For the first time, I walked away from him.” “Then maybe you’ve learned something, too.” “Maybe, but if so, I’ve learned it too late.”
Mark A. Roeder
214
“It’s never too late,” I said. “It is for Krista and me.” The tears he was holding in trickled down his cheeks, though he made not a sound. “I’ll never find a boyfriend,” I said. “I wasted my time on a fake and then mistook a straight boy for gay. The only remote possibility left is…” I broke off, realizing what I was about to say. “Who?” asked Orlando. I nervously shifted my butt on the bench. I looked down at the ground. “I’d rather not say.” “Who?” asked Orlando once more. “You,” I said, looking at him and then quickly away. When I looked at him again, he was blushing. “I think I need to explore what I’ve discovered about myself,” said Orlando, gazing at me. “I’ve got all these feelings inside me now that were never there before: feelings for boys. At least, I don’t think they were there before. If they were, I sure never knew it.” “Maybe you just need someone to talk to, someone who’ll take things slow, someone who won’t just try to get you into bed.” I held Orlando’s gaze. Orlando looked at me, smiled and spoke. “Not too long ago, a wise old man told me that whatever happens was meant to happen, so we should try to make the best of whatever life throws our way.” Orlando’s eyes never left mine. I grinned. I could feel my face going red, but I reached out and took his hand. I had the feeling that things might not be so hopeless after all.
The End