If I Should Fall: The Second Book of Geshichte Falls

CHAPTER SEVEN

SHOWDOWN AT SOUBIROUS

“So when do you start at Soubirous?” Rob asked Anigel.

“I think it starts back up the week after next. Or next week or something,” she said, vaguely, screwing up her face. “Why? Are you going?”

“Think I have a chance?”

“If they’ll take me they’ll take anyone. I’m pretty sure it’s an open door kind of thing. It’ll be nice going in with a friend. If college is anything like high school then, frankly, I’m terrified.”

“And now I’m terrified,” Rob said. “That I’ll try to get in and it’ll be too late.”

 

“It’s Soubirous, not Yale,” said Nehru the next day in the guidance office. “They’ll take anyone. You have to fill out an application slip and mail it...” Nehru made ink swirls across an application, “and then it comes to the guidance office. They take your application, call you and have you tested—”

“Tested,” Rob looked nervous.

“Relax,” said Nehru. “And then the Friday before school starts you stand in line with a hundred other hopefuls and make your  schedule.”

“But I haven’t done an application yet—” started Rob.

Nehru hit a button on the phone and said, “Robert Keyes here to see you. He’s the ones whose application got lost in the mail.”

Rob and Russell stared at Nehru, who said nothing, but waited for a reply, his eyes tilted angelically toward the ceiling.

“Send him in? Yes, Ma’am,” Nehru said and shut off the intercom.

“I love this job,” he told Russell as Rob timidly went toward the door marked Student Affairs, “even if it is just for the summer.”

 

“Is it still nice? Do you still like it?”

“Yes,” Nehru said, truthfully. “I do. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure,” Brad said.

They were in his basement, sitting on his bed, the guitar to Brad’s left and the cigarettes to Nehru’s right. Before them both was a crate with beers, and from the stereo Aretha Franklin was singing:

 

“Don't play that song for me
'Cause it brings back memories
Of days that I once knew
The days that I spent with you.”

 

“How are things with Marissa?”

“Good,” Brad said. “She’s coming to the show tonight.”

“That’ll be great. I really like her.”

“She’s something.”

Brad felt confident on this bed. He had only been with Marissa in her bed, in her house. This was the place of many fuckings, of Debbie, and Sara before her.

“That girl was looking at you,” Brad told Nehru.

“I don’t know what girl you mean.”

“You don’t pay any attention to them,” Brad said, taking a sip of warm beer.

“Not that you really pay any attention to anyone.”

“I’m happy as myself,” Nehru said.

“I know. I wish we all could be.”

“I didn’t even think about sex till I was eighteen. Not really.”

Nehru sipped from his own beer.

 

“I remember on our first date
He kissed me and he walked away
I was only seventeen
I'd never dream he'd be so mean.”

 

Nehru said, in his very sure way, the way he’d always been so sure and Brad, ten years older, had always envied, “Can we do it again?”

Almost as soon as he asked, Brad put down his beer and leaned down, tilting his head expertly to kiss Nehru. While Aretha sang on, they embraced and made out together rubbing each other through their shirts, locking blue jeaned thighs, and it was so nice, so secure, better than sex. They’d been doing this on and off again for the last few weeks, caressing hair and skin, tenderly pressing mouths together, locking tongues like teenagers. Brad had never been a teenager. He’d come to sex too early and in a way he didn’t like, and Nehru had been a virtual eunuch until he was twenty, which wasn’t that long ago. Neither one of them had ever had someone to grow with, to hold and pet and make out with, to do all those things that went short of sex.

Brad’s heart beat so fast. All the feeling in him welled up from his toes, rained down from his head and joined in the firm unfolding of his penis. When he kissed Nehru, his dick went so hard it hurt, and that was a pleasure too. He never touched Nehru there, as if they were still teenagers and it was too special. Aretha Franklin changed to Diana Ross and then Percy Sledge and went on to Marvin Gaye and still they made out slowly on Brad’s bed.

When Nehru said it, Brad thought it:

“I could do this all day.”

 

Anigel Reyes walked into Balusik’s grocery store, and Caroline was working the register, taking care of Mrs. Bentham’s purchases.

“Ani, wait a second,” said Caroline, and then, when she was finished with Mrs. Bentham came to her sister.

“Firstly, I need you to baby sit Chontalay and Benjamin.”

“Done,” Anigel agreed, reaching into her purse for a cigarette.

“And secondly, you know how you were looking for something to do?”

“I may have said that,” Anigel looked at her sister, cautiously.

“This something to do is at Rosary.”

“As in Rosary High School? Our old school?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, Caroline, I’m just getting high school out of my system.”

“I know, and if you’re looking for something else, I’ll understand, but I was talking to Donna Marsh and she said that Rosary was looking for help with the cheerleading squad—”

“Are you crazy?”

“You were prom queen.”

“What the hell does that have to do with me helping the cheerleading squad?”

 “Hey ladies, what’s going on?”

Chontalay heard her father and began running down the stairs.

“Your wife has lost her mind is what’s going on?” Anigel informed John as he caught his daughter and the three year old with her loose afro settled into her father’s arms.

“John and Chontalay tilted their heads at Anigel.

“I told her about the job at Rosary,” Caroline told John.

“It sounds like a great part time thing,” John said.

“Job?” Anigel said.

Caroline cocked her head.

“What did you think I meant?”

“I thought it was… volunteer.”

“No,” her sister said. “It’s a real job.”

“Oh…” well now this changed things, but Angiel was doubtful.

“I don’t really know anything about cheerleading,” Anigel insisted.

Caroline told her how much it paid.

Anigel cleared her throat.

“When’s Donna need me?”

 

The following afternoon, Anigel Reyes was curled up on one of the uncomfortably new sofas in the lounge of Soubirous College when she felt two thumps on either side of her and looked up from the book of basic algebra to see to her right Nehru Alexander and on her left, Robert Keyes.

“What’s shakin’ peoples?”

“We were just coming to ask you the same thing,” said Nehru. “How’s college treating you?”

Anigel sighed and put down the algebra book. “I was afraid it would be like high school all over again. But it’s nothing like it. I feel like I’ve started a whole new life. I’m kind of liking it. Everything but the math,” she gestured disdainfully to the book.

“Everything I should have learned in high school coming back to haunt me in adulthood. Makes me want a cigarette.”

Robert laughed and Nehru said. “Have you heard the band before?”

“What band?” Anigel asked.

“Nehru’s,” said Rob. “Well, he’s lead singer. They’re really good.”

“You can do our press releases, Rob” Nehru said, curling up on the other end of Anigel’s sofa.

“Chilli Comet Sundae’s their name,” Rob went on.

“Chilli what?” Anigel looked at Nehru who said.

“Hence the reason I refer to it as ‘The Band’. I didn’t make it, I just joined it.”

“Well, yeah,” Anigel sat up. “I’m all for a little fun. All algebra and no play makes Anigel a real bitch. Where yawl perform?”

“Here,” Nehru pointed to the ground—which was a slight fabrication. “In the chapel basement. Wednesday nights. Be there or be your mama.”

As the boys got up, Anigel resumed working out equations and muttered,. “That literally made no sense.”

 

Russell and Gilead had been snagged by their friends into going to the cheerleading tryouts at Rosary

“You’re graduating this year, and you never go anywhere or do anything,” Greg Redmont told Gilead.

“There’s a reason for that,”

“Yeah,” said Chris Knapp, the senior class president, football player and track star with sideburns, grey eyes and large red lips who reminded Russell a little of a sporty werewolf, “and you’ll forget all of those reasons one day.”

“You’re going to finish telling me what you had started to, right?” Gilead said to Russell.

“I plan to,” Russell said, earnestly.

Holy Queen of the Rosary High School was an old vaguely Spanish looking three story building done with roves and eaves of  green tile that sat on the far corner of a field on Nassau and Bunting streets. On the far field, which was between Bunting and Main, not far from the public library and the remains of downtown, but not so close you could tell, the girls were practicing.

Anigel Reyes had remarked that it might make more sense to practice in the gymnasium.

“But then the boys couldn’t watch,” Miss Marsh said casually.

They came on bikes, on buses, in their parents’ cars, in trucks and vans. Strogue Mominee and Aaron were there along with D.L. Lorris. The boys from the Breckinridge, Keyworthy and the other rich enclaves came after water polo practice. Bobby Reyes, “Gil, Russell, what’s up!” was there. You knew who was who by where on the field or on which side of the chain link fence boys chose to sit. Ralph was there with Jason, and when Jason saw Gil and Russell, he greeted Gilead with a respect so serious, that Gilead almost laughed, and then wrapped his arms around Russell and grinned. The four of them stood together before sitting with who said, seriously, “Did you tell Gil?”

Jason looked at Gilead and Russell said. “Not yet.”

“I think you were about to,” Gilead said, and Russell stood up, gesturing for his friend to follow him.

They passed through the crowd. Though geographically, Our Lady of Mercy was on one end of town and Holy Queen of the Rosary was a distinct and separate entity on the other end, for a girl at Rosary or a boy at Mercy to inhale and say the words O.L. of Mercy, was to exhale and say, “Rosary,” or vice versa.

Rosary was their sister school.

The boys of Our Lady of Mercy conducted their ruthless business here in the same shameless fashion they used the second floor mens’ restroom. Snuff, pot, cheat sheets, porn and condoms were exchanged or sold. They were not just here to hit on girls but to see their friends from K-through Eight, meet or insult their sisters and cousins, drop a message off to their best friend’s girlfriend. Andy Dyko was performing magic tricks, offering Rochelle Anderson his arm to shake, and when it fell off and blood spurted at her feet, he laughed. She thought to hit him and then laughed too.

Amidst this Russell and Gilead’s words could barely be heard, nor were their expressions of interest.

“How do you feel about that?” Russell asked.

“How do you feel?”

“Good, I guess.”

Then Russell said, “For the first time I feel like a grown up.”

“It’s a lot to handle,” Gilead said.

“It’s better than having nothing to handle.”

“True,” Gilead said. “Very true.

“Does Chayne know?”

“He knows everything.”

“How’s he feel?”

“You Wynns keep things close to the vest,” Russell said. “He said we had more in common than he thought.”

“Ah,” Gilead said and smiled.

Suddenly Gilead began laughing and Russell said, “What?”

“The world seems changed.”

“The world or my world?”

“The world.”

“Changed how?”

Gilead continued to smile while he looked, for a moment, at Niall Dwyer only a few feet away.

“Changed for the better,” Gilead said.

“What are you doing?” Russell asked Niall Dwyer who was sitting lotus position beside his bicycle, a dark beret on his head.

The handsome, dark eyed boy with the sprouting goatee looked up at his neighbor, twisted another bag and handed it to Strogue.

“Selling.”

Strogue looked at Russell. Russell looked at Gilead, but Gilead was not looking at him. Rather he was looking away. From something.

“Gil!” A voice called out. “Gil, is that you?”

Russell watched Gilead turn, and they both saw Mark Young.

“Hey,” Gilead began, “Mark.”

Mark smiled stupidly.

“I thought it was you.”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

Mark was looking cool and perfect like he always did, with his dark hair and laughing eyes, chewing gum, hands jammed in his jeans pockets. He was only missing the Starter jacket, but it wasn’t quite cool enough for that.

Gilead said, “And this is my friend, Russell Lewis.”

“Oh, yeah!” Mark grinned. He had peat colored eyes that went from grey to green and back and wavy dark hair, a small, grinning mouth.

 “Marlboro Man.”

It took Russell a moment to remember the stunt with the Blessed Virgin that had gained him fame.

“Guilty as charged.”

Russell nodded. Joe Smith’s, the funeral barely two weeks off for a classmate who wasn’t coming back, hung in the background uncomfortably, and there was something else, something between Gilead and Mark that was also so tenuous, Russell through that if he left them on their own, it would be lost.

Mark’s eyes fell on Gilead again, very clear. What color were they?

“You all just… hanging?”

“Yeah. Yes,” Gilead was saying to Mark. “And you?”

Mark pointed to a few other boys who looked like him, tall, cute in sharp faced way, smacking their gum and standing around in Starter jackets.

“I’m with Dan and Pedee and they said there you were and I said there you were so I thought I’d come over and say hi. So—”

“Hi!” Gilead seemed a little too loud and happy for Gilead Story.

“Right?” Mark said. “You’re in German history with me next week, right?”

“Yeah. And O’Neill’s lit class.”

“Right. Right. Well, that’ll be something. We could be—”

“Study buddies,” Gilead spat out, trying to sound sarcastic but Mark clapped his arm and insisted, “Yes!”

“Uh…?” Gilead began.

“Hey, Young!” Dan Soldener called out, and Mark, still chewing his gum, winked shot out his fingers like a gun and said, “Well, that’s my cue.”

“Right,” Gilead said.

“See you guys. Good to meet you, Russell Lewis.”

Russell nodded and Mark saluted Gilead and then turned back to his friends.

Gilead, who never seemed undone by anything, was, and Russell was noting this for not the first time, undone by Mark Young. Possibly in the same way that Jason still undid him. But Gilead was a wise virgin, and Russell had been a foolish one. Russell was pretty sure that even now, Gilead knew more about sex than he did.

In a day Russell had been with Jason whom he adored the same day he had been with Cody, who he loved. The night he had brought Cody to his parent’s house along with Cameron, and Cameron had gone back home after dinner and after her bike was fixed. Thom and Patti were just glad that Russell had a friend, and when he asked to see Russell’s room and talk to him, Patti and Thom both thought that was a great idea. They gave him nothing but space in this house that was nothing but spacious. As early evening sunlight filled Russell’s large bedroom, Cody sat him down on the bed, pulled down his pants and gave him head until his body shuddered and he came in Cody’s mouth. Russell understood that aside from how good it was, it was Cody’s way of putting them even, so they could move on as friends, and for now they had.

“That whole thing?”

Back in the present, on an eighty degree day on Bunting Street, Gilead shook his head and smiled at Russell pleasantly.

“What the fuck was that?” Russell said.

“That was Mark Young.”

“No,” Russell said. “You? What was that with you? Because you were weird and you are never weird..”

“Well, Mark Young makes me weird.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you?”

“You’re weird for each other.”

“Are you insinuating…?”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” Russell said. “I’m just observing. Like, what would you do if you and…”

“I have no idea. I… that’s not on my mind a lot. I don’t know what I would do, really?”

“But—”

“Are you going to be a sex therapist now?”

Russell didn’t want to tell Gilead about Cody. He wouldn’t tell Chayne either. Some things, like being a slut who had sex with two guys in the same day, he decided would be his secrets.

“No,” Russell said, “I was just going to ask.. he’s looking at you, by the way.”

Gilead turned to look and just then Mark turned his head and laughed loudly at something Dan Soldener said.

“I was going to ask,” Russell continued, “how long you and Mark had been doing,,, whatever you’re doing?”

“Since he tried to swipe my journal and I put him in a choke hold last year.”

At the same time they began laughing and the more Gilead laughed, the more Russell did, and the more Russell laughed, the more Gilead couldn’t stop himself till they were both on the grass doubled over in chuckles and if Gilead noticed Mark watching him, he didn’t say anything.