Works and Days

Part Three

The Beginning of The End

Chapter Fourteen

Vernal

Chayne kandzierski was amazed.

“And then you all went all over Barrelon with this Anigel woman?”

“Yes.”

“And you ended up at the University?”

“Yes.”

“And then you hitchhiked back here?”

“Exactly,” Gilead said while Russell nodded.

“Damn,” Chayne said, smiling with respect. “What an adventure.”

“I haven’t told Mom and Dad,” Russell said. “They just think I came home with the guys we left with.”

“Yes,” Chayne nodded. “I can see the wisdom in that.”

 

Russell had not expected his life to change. He was used to grown ups and grown ups said things, made discoveries and then soon forgot them. Grown ups, once enemies, remained enemies. Once hurt they kept hurting. They never learned. Russell had known little of the plastic world of boys, and so he was surprised not only to be greeted in the halls by Nicky Ballantine and Gilead or the occasional shy wave of Mark Young, but now by Ralph Balusik and Jason Lorry.

“Where do you always go for lunch?” Jason asked him.

It was hard to talk to him at first, for now that Jason took an active interest in being Russell’s friend, Russell could admit to himself how perfect he looked, his dark olive skin dusky with grown man’s five o clock shadow, his deep eyes, his black curling hair, that smell of spice and tobacco.

“Uh…. I usually just go to be alone. Or eat with Gilead.”

“Don’t do that,” Jason said. Then he said, “I mean, do eat with Gilead, but don’t be alone. You should eat with us.”

The party had given Gilead the social life he had never wanted, and groups were fluid at Our Lady, so Russell and Gilead found themselves less and less in the chapel and more with Jeremy Bentham, Jack Kern, Andy Dyko, Ralph Balusik, Jason Lorry and even Bobby Reyes.

On their way out of the cafeteria, Mark Young bumped into Gilead with his bag.

“Sorry about that, Gil.”

Gilead shook his head.

“Oh, no. It’s fine.”

“Great,” Mark was smiling at him “Great. Well, uh… I’ll see you?”

“Sure,” Gilead said after what seemed like a very long time saying “sure.”

“Sure,” Mark repeated.

The two of them stood in the exit of the cafeteria until Sean Sifuentes said, “Are you assholes going to just stand here all day?” and Mark went red, grinned, shrugged, waved and walked down the hall, hiking his bag up on his shoulder.

“You coming to class?” Sean asked Gil.

“Not on time,” Gilead said, still watching Mark, and Sean walked away.

“What is it with you two?” Russell said one day

“What two?” Gilead asked.

“You and Mark Young?”

“I don’t even know him.”

“No, but like, he always stops and looks at you, and you look at him. It’s like you want to be friends, but neither one of you goes up and says anything.”

Gilead cleared his throat.

“I’ve never had a class with him. Besides, I tend to be sort of nervous and socially awkward.”

“You do,” Russell agreed. “Yes you do.”

 

He did not tell anyone about his sixteenth birthday, because he did not want a party and he knew that though Gil would respect his wishes, between Jason or Ralph or Bobby, others would not. He should have been grateful and he was. He told himself he was a lot less of a punk now, though it didn’t seem to have happened by his own doing.  His mother was going to cook a special meal and Jackie would be over and so would Chayne, Ted Weirbach and Gil.

In the mildly cloudy afternoon, he planned to go to Chayne’s house, but first passed it, going to the old bookstore on Kirkland. On the way back, the kids he hadn’t seen in so long were walking down the street singing:

 

“Carter and Erika,

sitting in a tree

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

First comes love

Then comes marriage

Then comes a baby

 in a baby carriage!”

 

In the midst of the kids was one red faced white boy whom Russell assumed was Carter, but there was no Erika, and as the other kids fell on his shoulders, laughing and hugging him, Russell supposed they intended no harm. Where did they come from? Where were they going?

“My mama had a bunch of babies, no marriage and no baby carriage,” one of the little girls commented, and that was the last he heard.

When he entered Chayne’s house, there was no Chayne and no anyone else. Easter was a few days off but the weather had been strangely warm.  It was when Russell saw the note on the fridge that said Chayne would be gone till about seven and would go straight to Thom and Patti’s, that the storm had begun. He called home as the hail fell and Patti said, “Just stay at Chayne’s till its done and for God’s sake, don’t run out in it.”

The sky was purple and the hail thunderous. He heard it shatter a window but did not think the window was in Chayne’s house. He went to his old room and closed the door, seized by the weird feelings that came to him now. On the bed, in the dark with the door closed but the window open and the warm wind coming in, he ran his hands over his long body, aroused by its smoothness and its smells, and he squeezed his thighs together and pressed himself against the mattress. In the darkness he touched himself and he saw Jason Lorry in the closet, pants down around his ankles

“Ey, Lewis, you like? Watch this, Lewis.”

He could see Jason put his hand to the girl’s face so that she was turned away from him, and then he pushed her down into the floor and started jackhammering her.

“You like?” Jason hissed. “You like? You like?”

As he fucked her, Jason kept staring into Russell’s eyes growling:

“You like it, Lewis? How’s it feel, Russell Lewis? Take it, Russ! Take it, Russ. Take my cock! Take my fucking cock, Russ! Take it! Take…Oh, God! Jeeeesusss—” and then he shouted, gasped, and Russell saw Jason’s eyes widen, his face lose control.

When Jason lost control, Russell lost his, his scream drowned out by the thunder as the orgasm wrang his body and he bucked up and down whimpering as hot semen sprayed all over his stomach and chest, over his lips, his face, the pillow.

“I like it,” he said, falling into a swoon, his hand still wringing a penis he’d never seen so large, so wet, so swollen. “I like it.”