Storiesonline.net ------- Leslie by Old Fart Copyright© 2005 by Old Fart ------- Description: Did Leslie go astray or did she just grow up? This is her story. Book Two of the Wes and Les Series. Codes: mf ff rom 1st teen bro span oral anal mastrb ------- ------- Chapter 1: Meet Leslie My name is Bond. Leslie Bond. It's much better when my Dad says it. My real Dad. James Bond. Boy, would I like to suck his cock. That Sean Connery is such a dream. Oh, yeah. My Dad is, too. The truth is I'd love to go down on either one of them. Cuz I love cock. And pussy. There used to be two men in my life. There was my brother Wes. He was exactly nine months older than me. He was my protector. He watched over me and kissed my scraped knees. He was my hero. And then he started going to a different school and started acting as if he didn't even know me. My first love was my father. He was never really close, but he was my Daddy and I loved him. Now that I'm older, I realize it was pretty much one way. My father has always taken care of us financially, but I just don't think he likes kids. I know that's a terrible thing to say about your father, but it's true. He would have been much happier if it was just my Mom instead of the family. One of the things I did to try and get some attention was act up. I'd purposely do something that I knew would get me into trouble. And then I'd talk myself out of it. Mom would give up and turn me over to my father which was just what I wanted. He'd always end up patting me on the head, telling me he knew I didn't mean to do it and he was sure I'd behave from now on. I know that's the way the game was supposed to work out but I secretly wished that just once he'd love me enough to give me the spanking I knew I deserved. I'd always get dirty looks from both of my brothers when I talked myself out of trouble. Over the years I'd become expert. Wes and Jaz didn't get spanked but they got the "disappointed in you" speech a lot. Jaz might get put in a corner since he was 8 years younger than me. But my father was never even disappointed in me. I'd do other little girl stuff with him, especially sitting on his lap. And I have to give him credit, he'd play along with it, hugging me, running his fingers through my hair, telling me I was his beautiful little princess. Then the commercials would be over and I either had to sit still or go find something else to do. When Wes disappeared, I tried to get my father to pay more attention to me. I found I enjoyed sitting on his lap with his arms around me. And it felt good in different parts of my body. I'd feel fluttering feelings in my stomach. And then the feelings started happening between my legs. I got scared. I told my Mom what was happening to me and we had a good long talk. What was happening was perfectly normal. That's the way she was supposed to feel when she was near Daddy. I was OK for me to feel that way, but I needed to control myself. One day there would be someone just as special to me as Daddy was to Mom and it would be OK for me to feel that way with him. I didn't quite understand it but I got the idea that Daddy belonged to Mom and it was "hands off" for me. I still sat on Daddy's lap once in a while but not as often. I remember the first time I noticed he was hard. I felt something pushing up into my leg. I just sat there and hugged him, feeling that pressure. I didn't understand it but it felt like a "Mom & Dad" thing. So I sat quietly, reveling in the feeling of warmth pushing up on the bottom of my thigh. The next time I sat on his lap the lump was back. This time I tried to explore it. I pretended to squirm in his lap but what I really did was work it between my legs so I could feel it up against my pussy. Because I was really getting those feelings there when I felt his hardness. Something told me it belonged there. I realized later that my panties were wet. I couldn't remember peeing in them and they smelled different. Good, but different. The next time it happened I ended up dry humping my father. I was foolish enough to believe I was being very secretive and nobody would notice. He very firmly picked me up and put me on my feet on the floor. That was the last time my father ever let me sit on his lap. I learned a lesson from that experience. Unfortunately, the lesson I learned was the wrong one. It would take a lot of hard work and frustration for me to realize that I'd come to the wrong conclusion when he lifted me off his lap. I came out of my experience believing that I had been too overt. You had to somehow convince a guy to make a move on you without letting him know you would be interested. You'd be amazed how many girls in school have that same idea and sit at home with their fingers between their legs on Saturday night. What should I have learned? Don't try to seduce your father when your mother's in the room would have been a good one. I guaranty you if my father and I had been home alone and knew we'd be alone for a while he never would have picked me up off his lap unless it was to carry me into his bedroom. Let's say he had tremendous willpower and did put me on the floor. A seductive smile and me grabbing his cock while looking him in the eye would have done the trick. He wouldn't be hard if he wasn't interested. And I could have used my ability to argue him out of anything if he played the "we shouldn't do this" game. Years later my brother Wes put it in words when he was talking to a friend of mine. All the games we girls play trying to attract attention aren't sexy to a guy. The most sexy thing you can say to a guy is "Do you want to fuck?" And the most sexy thing you can do is grab his cock, look him in the eye and smile. I've used that approach since he said it. It works immediately with guys. And almost as fast with girls. Of course girls have to pretend to be shocked, then they start thinking about it. The next thing you know their panties are soaking and they're trying to beg for it without looking like they're begging. You can really make them sweat by acting like a guy and pretending you have no idea what they're talking about. When you finally put your hand on them or give them that first kiss, they melt in your arms and you can do anything you want. The more shocked they are at the beginning, the hotter they are when you go down on them. A few weeks after that last time on my father's lap I had my first period. Mom and I had some serious talks about being a woman and what it meant. She confided in me that my father had grown bored with our family and confirmed that we kids were really a nuisance as far as he was concerned. Which is really funny now because a couple of years later he and Mom got divorced. He had found a girlfriend and she had gotten pregnant. I wouldn't be surprised if they split up in the next few years. She's really a bitch. We continued to have talks over the next couple of years. I told her I wanted to get Wes back and she didn't try to talk me out of it. I think she could tell it was something more than a young kid's romantic idea. I was in love with my brother and I wanted him back. I was in the middle of eighth grade when she took me to a doctor and had me put on the pill. So, for half a year I did everything I could to get Wes to notice me. Nothing worked. And the few times I did get him to notice, he had to pretend he didn't and wouldn't follow through. There was a brother and sister next door to us, almost the same ages as Wes and me. Joey and Wes hung out together all the time. Sam and I were pretty good friends. Sam was one of those quiet girls, not a whole lot of initiative. I pretty much decided what we did. I talked her into trying out for the cheer squad at Grossmont High. We had just finished Jr High and I figured it would be a good way to meet people. We both made the JV squad, which I thought was pretty good for a couple of freshmen. One day I confided in Sam that I was going after Wes. She acted weird. I finally figured out that she thought she was in love with him, too. I told her we could share him and she seemed OK with the idea. We had practices three times a week. I noticed the first couple of days there was a senior hanging around whenever we were there. He was kind of overweight and wore a letterman's jacket. I talked to him and found out his name was Bubba and he was a lineman on the football team. He'd repeated a couple of grades when he was young and was 19. He'd be 20 by the end of the school year. He wasn't the smartest guy in the world but was actually pretty nice. He was also one of the shyest boys I ever met. It turns out Bubba had the hots for Darcy, one of the girls on the squad. She was a junior and was pretty hot. I didn't actually say anything, but I sort of convinced Bubba that I could get Darcy to talk to him. As a result, I had a grateful Bubba on my hands. I dragged poor Bubba all over the place. Anywhere I knew Wes would be, there I'd be, smiling and hanging on to Bubba. All of a sudden Wes started paying attention to me. He started giving me lectures about growing up and protecting my virtue and not throwing my youth away just because a senior was interested in me. It finally came to a head one Saturday morning. Mom and I planned on this being the day. She took my father and younger brother to Sea World and they were going to spend the night at a relative's so we could have the house to ourselves. Wes was giving it one more try out on our front lawn when Bubba drove up to take me to practice. I put Wes in his place for deserting me for three years, then figuring he could come back and have me pay attention to him. As I took off with Bubba, I could see the tears start. That afternoon all Hell broke loose. ------- Chapter 2: My Brother NOTE: This chapter covers a pivotal point in Leslie's life. As such, it's a legitimate part of her story. It condenses over 17 chapters of Wes & Les into one chapter. If you want the full story, read Wes & Les. If you want to complain that you've read it all before, keep in mind that you've been warned. The OLD FART After Bubba dropped me off for practice I got thinking about how bad Wes looked. I faked cramps and got Bubba to take me home. I snuck in the house and found him asleep in his room. I could see tear tracks down his face where he'd been crying. Judging by the way he was tossing and turning, he wasn't sleeping peacefully. I had this foolish idea that now I'd gotten his attention, all I had to do was make myself available and he'd sweep me off my feet and make mad, passionate love to me. I made sure I looked my best and lay down on the kitchen table so the first thing he'd see when he came into the kitchen would be my butt in my cheer uniform. My butt is my best feature. It seemed like forever till I heard him making noise upstairs. He finally came down and saw me. I pretended to be busy reading a magazine. The next thing I knew, he had my pants down around my knees, was holding me down on the table and I was being raped. This wasn't the romantic encounter I'd imagined. The only sound he made during the whole thing was some grunting as he came inside me. It was all over before I knew it. Wes backed up from me, pulled his shorts up and stumbled out the side door as if he was drunk. I heard him throw up right after the screen door slammed. Then he opened the side door to the garage, dragged his bike out and was gone. All this happened before I got up from the table. It was just getting dark when Wes got back. I guess it had been raining for about 15 minutes and he'd gotten soaked riding home on his bike. He looked like a puppy with his tail between his legs. I sent him in to take a shower. I couldn't resist, I followed in and found him playing with himself under the shower. I took off my robe and snuck in behind him and placed my hand on top of his. As soon as he realized I was in there with him he came all over the front of the shower. I got out before he could even turn around. After his shower he came in to apologize to me. When we were kids and I'd scrape my knee, Wes would always bandage it and spray Bactine all over it. But the best thing he did was kiss it better. I told him he'd hurt me earlier (which he had) and I wanted him to kiss it better. I think we were both terrified. It took him forever to work his way up my legs, opening the buttons on my robe one at a time and kissing me as he made his way up. When he finally got to my pussy he just gave me a quick peck and thought he was done. I straightened him out real quick. He had no idea what to do so I told him. As I started getting excited, he started getting excited. And he did me with his mouth and tongue and fingers and I came harder than I'd ever thought possible. I mean I'd played with myself before, but this was a whole new universe. I finally couldn't take it any more and had to close my legs so he wouldn't hurt me. Things couldn't get any better, could they? Well, my stupidity came back to haunt me. Just after he'd brought me to the heights of ecstasy, he asked if that was the kind of thing I did with Bubba. I flipped and slapped him upside the head. Of course, I realized it was my own damn fault he even thought of that question, but I couldn't tell him that. We eventually talked about Bubba and I told him Bubba was just a trick to get him to fall for me. I finally talked my brother into kissing me. Strange. He'd raped me, I beat him off and he ate me out like a pro before we ever kissed. God, can my brother kiss. It seemed like days, I think it was probably more like 20 minutes or a half an hour we spent on my bed kissing each other, exploring each other's mouth and lips. After a while I noticed his penis digging into me. To be honest, I'd noticed it from the start, but now I decided to do something about it. I'd heard about blow jobs. Some of my girlfriends thought they were the best thing ever, some thought they were sick, most hadn't had any experience with them. I figured if he could make me feel that good with his mouth, I should at least see if I could return the favor. I performed my first blow job and got hooked. The power you have when you take a man's cock in your mouth is unbelievable. Many women I've talked to can't stand the thought of a guy coming in their mouth, much less swallowing his come. I kind of like it. And a guy will do anything for you if you swallow his come. And I do mean anything. We spent four days exploring each other's bodies. Once he got into it, Wes devoted himself to pleasing me. We'd taken a break for dinner that first night and I brought a can of whipped cream and some cherries up to my room. I stripped Wes down and proceeded to make a Wes Sundae, spraying the cream on his cock and topping it with a cherry. I started to lick it off but his body heat melted the cream and we had a total mess. I ran to the bathroom and got a warm washcloth and spent the next ten minutes wiping him off, front and back. I got a chance to really see how he was put together. I also found out how much a man appreciates this simple act. It's one of the best ways I've found to thank a man for making you feel good. Wes wasn't interested in using the whipped cream on me. He tied a blindfold over my eyes and made me keep my hands at my sides. Sure, he could have tied me up but it was so exciting knowing I could be free at any time but making sure I couldn't move. I could have just shaken my head and gotten rid of the blindfold but I just lay there, as still as possible. He made me lie there forever until he ran a feather lightly across my face. You can't know how it felt until you've experienced it. Lying as still as you can, your sight cut off by a blindfold, every little sound seeming to be amplified. Waiting for something to happen. You know whatever it is will feel fantastic but you have no idea what or where it will be. Every nerve ending is reaching out, ready for stimulation. I had no idea what he was doing until it was all over and I saw the feather. After he had run the feather over my face twice he laid his hand on my cheek. The difference in texture, the warmth of his hand, the love I could feel flowing from it, all of this added together until I felt like I was going to come. He then undid each button on my robe, one at a time, from neck to ankles. But he didn't open the robe. He would unbutton a button, then lay the buttonhole back over the button. He did this all the way down my body. It must have taken five minutes for him to work his way down. I could feel the robe covering my whole body but I've never felt so exposed. After he had the last button undone he stopped. If I hadn't been able to hear his gentle breathing I would have sworn he'd gone away. He just stayed there, near enough for me to sense him, absolutely silent. Until I thought I was going to scream. And then he opened my robe all at once. One second it was closed, the next second I was totally exposed from my armpits to my toes. The only part of me covered by my robe was my arms. After another delay that almost drove me crazy the feather was run across my breasts and down my stomach, exploring my navel and pubic patch. Again, nothing. And then I sensed him coming closer. I felt his warm breath on my right breast and then his dry lips lightly kissing it all over, then the left one. When he took a nipple in his mouth and started sucking it I could feel it straight down to my pussy, as if there was one big nerve running from tit to cunt. I couldn't have stopped myself if I wanted. My arms wrapped themselves around his head and pulled him into me. Wes worshiped my breasts for close to half an hour. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better he would do something different and I'd get some new sensation. My body was going into overload. I needed to come. Not wanted to come or it would be nice to come, I needed to come just like I needed to breathe. Wes moved away from me. It was as if an arm had been torn off. I ripped off the blindfold and saw he was resting on his heels, looking at me with a smile on his face. He looked so beautiful. I demanded that he fuck me. He opened my legs and lowered his face toward my cunt. I grabbed on to him and once more demanded that he fuck me. He took off his shorts and we got him inside me. He felt so much better than he had this morning. I knew this was where he belonged. My body was demanding to be pounded without mercy. And all he did was lay there, all the way inside me. I finally got him to move. The next thing I knew he'd pulled back too far and he'd fallen out. Both of us dove for it and finally got him back in. It didn't take long before I blew. I thought his mouth had done a number on me. There's nothing like a good, hard cock to make you go off, provided you're ready. And I was more than ready after the workout he gave me. I came. And I came. And I Came. And then I passed out. I woke up to see a concerned Wes looking at me. Once he realized he hadn't killed me, he went into the bathroom and got a warm washcloth. I drifted off to sleep as he lovingly cleaned my most private places. The next day was strange, to say the least. We woke up to see Sam and Joey's dog licking Wes's cock. Then Sam came in the house "looking" for Daisy (who she'd sent up to my room a few minutes before). Wes took care of some laundry while Sam and I talked about what had happened. She left in time to "run into" Wes and tease him about our night together. When he tried to talk to me about not spreading it around I acted as if he was a fool. Wes gave me something I'd been looking for for 10 or 12 years. He beat my ass. No matter how I tried to worm myself out of it, he told me he was going to spank me. He even made me pull down my panties and keep my hands still as he spanked me with a ruler. I can't begin to describe the feelings that ran through me. I had to lie on his lap the whole time, looking at the floor. After the first or second strike my mind changed the man punishing me from Wes to my father. He would hit me with the ruler and it would sting. And then he would rub my butt where he had just hit. After a bit, I could feel the hotness of my skin reflected off his gentle hand. It didn't take long before the pain started exciting me. I could feel my pussy juicing up more each time the ruler came down or the hand rubbed me. As he went on and on, hitting me with that ruler and then rubbing my burning skin, I got more and more excited and I felt more and more pain. My pussy was getting wetter and wetter and my eyes teared up more and more until hot tears were just flowing down my face. My nose was filling up as it does when you cry and I sniffed it in. The hand on my butt clenched just a little and then relaxed, gripping onto my tender skin. Another hand caressed my cheek on my face. I heard a commanding voice say "Leslie!" "Yes?" "Are you going to behave?" "Yes, Daddy." "OK." The hand on my butt lifted and then came down hard. My Daddy finally cared enough to give me the punishment I deserved and had craved for so many years. I started coming uncontrollably and passed out. I woke up shortly after to find Wes rubbing some lotion I used for my legs into my butt. One thing led to another and before we knew it I'd convinced him to take my final cherry. Of course, my asshole hurt after that as did the surface of my butt. Wes was very concerned that he'd damaged me for life. He kept applying the lotion and faithfully applied some antibiotic ointment Mom gave him after she got home once every two hours. She got some good stuff from the pharmacist and by the next morning I was back to normal. Well, my asshole hurt a bit from being stretched, but I could sit down. Sam and I worked together to give him a blowjob, he fucked Sam in the ass while I got myself off a couple of times and we made sweet, gentle love once more. Everything was perfect and I was sure we were going to live happily ever after. I was talking to him on the front lawn before he turned to push his lawnmower across the street. I watched in horror as he got run over by a car. ------- Chapter 3: Accident and Aftermath It seemed like some kind of joke. Wes and I were talking, things couldn't be going better. He worked his lawnmower over the curb and walked across the street, looking back at me and talking. I saw the old Chevy coming up the street. It seemed to be going too slow to do anything. Surely Mrs. Crowley would slam on the brakes and yell at Wes to watch where he was going. She kept coming. I heard a crunch as the tire ran over the lawnmower. She still kept coming. Wes wasn't smiling. It looked like he was trying to cry out but I heard no sound. How could he twist his body like that? I heard someone screaming, then realized it was me. It got quiet. I covered my face with my hands. Make it go away. Make it go away. "Leslie. Leslie. LESLIE!" I dropped my hands. That was Mom's voice. But she was in the house with Sam. I looked over at the house and heard her again. Over near the car. Where I didn't want to look. "It's Wes. We've got to help him. Run in the house and get the quilt and a pillow off the couch." I forced my body to move. I got the items she wanted and brought them out. I went over to the car. Wes was all twisted and mangled. I could see a pool of blood underneath him, getting larger by the second. Mom was holding out her hand for the things I brought. "The blood." "It's Wes, Leslie. Give them to me." I gave her the quilt and pillow and took a step back. I leaned against the side of the car and threw up in the gutter. Mom had Wes covered and was starting to babble about the ambulance. I went over to her and pulled her up, hugging her for dear life. "Mom? Is Wes going to be OK?" "He's got to be. Pray for him. We all need him." The ambulance came up and a couple of guys got out. They were trying to put a brace on Wes but the car was in the way. Sam got in the car and moved it back. Somehow Sam and I were hugging each other when they were ready to take Wes in the ambulance. They could take one of us. Sam and I wanted to send Mom but then there wouldn't be anyone to drive to the hospital. Sam went with the ambulance. It took forever to get to the hospital. First, Mom invited Mrs. Crowley in for a cup of tea. A cup of tea, for God's sake. While I put on the water, Mom packed a bag for herself, made a couple of calls to handle Jaz and let Dad know Wes was in the hospital and I had to get some sweatshirts for me and Sam. Then we had to drive Mrs. Crowley home and walk her to her door. I held onto Mom all the way to the hospital. It wouldn't have made any difference if we'd gotten there sooner, we had to wait. Sam said they pulled her off him and took him in an operating room at the end of the hall. A doctor came out and was all set to take Mom off alone. She brought us with her. Wes had two broken legs and a broken back. He was in a coma. They didn't know if he'd ever wake up again. I just found love and it was taken away from me in an instant. It wasn't fair. How could he do this to me? Mom was saying something to the doctor. About something else. That's when he told us about his kidneys. Both kidneys had been destroyed in the accident. He could go on a machine that we couldn't afford or he could get a transplant of a kidney. But there weren't any kidneys. At that point I didn't want to go on living without Wes. I looked at the doctor. "Take mine." He started arguing. They use kidneys from accident victims, I was a minor. "I can live with one kidney, right?" He was going to argue some more when Mom told him it wouldn't do any good. She also told him we'd had tests done before and Wes and I were a perfect match. He went off to call our doctor to get the results sent over. He was in a pretty good mood when he came back a few minutes later. He put me in a wheelchair and we went downstairs and did some more tests. It was probably a half hour later when the doctor told us all it looked good. The next thing I knew, I was being wheeled into the elevator and into a room. They put on a hospital gown that showed my butt. Mom seemed to think it was funny. Then the nurse came in and said the doctor had ordered an enema and everyone had to leave. I got through that, then they gave me some pill that made me feel real stupid. The doctor came in and told me he was proud of me. I asked if it would hurt and held me it would be like being kicked but I could have drugs if it hurt too bad. I said I didn't want drugs. They gave me a shot to make me even dopier. I don't remember much after that. ------- I woke up. I felt dopey, but different from before. I saw this thing in another bed in the room, wrapped in plaster. I called for my Mom. She came running in the room a minute later. "Mom? Is Wes OK?" "He's fine, honey. He's got your kidney and now he's healing." I went back to sleep. ------- The next time I woke up it was Friday morning. I'd been under since Tuesday afternoon. I could feel where they took out the kidney. Kind of a dull ache. Not too bad. Then I found out they had a catheter in me and a bag for all my pee. God, how gross. I told the nurse to take it out. She said my doctor had to order it out. When he finally came in the room, he told me he would. But it would hurt to pee the first few times. I told him I didn't care. They gave me lots of water and juice. All the food was mushy. Nothing I could even chew. The time came when I had to pee and Sam helped me get into the bathroom. It felt so weird needing help to stand up without falling over. I was wiped out by the time I sat down on the toilet. I thought the doctor had been joking. I held on to the bar next to the toilet with all my strength. God it hurt to pee. But it was better than that damn bag. I stopped on the way back to bed. Sam brought a chair over to me so I could sit down next to Wes. He had tubes going into him and was hooked up to several machines. He was almost totally covered in plaster. All I could see was his back because they had him facing the wall. I reached out and touched his hair. It felt different. My brother was gone. Mom and Sam did their best to bring me up to date. I couldn't believe it when Sam told me that Mom was leaving Dad and had fallen in love with my doctor. And now my doctor was telling her he wasn't going to have anything to do with her until she and Dad were totally divorced. Jeez, I just took three days off. My first real visitors were Bill and Darcy. Darcy was the cheerleader Bubba liked. Bill was her brother, a couple of years older. She had been over at our house the day before the accident. She knew Sam and I were messing around with Wes and wanted some advice. Bill was going to Viet Nam in a few weeks. She was in love with him and he just thought of her as a sister. When Wes and Joey walked in, Wes told her to go for it. And not to mess around. To make damn sure he knew what she wanted and that she was serious. And he gave her a box of rubbers. Bill and Darcy were both beaming. They had fallen right into bed and this was pretty much the first time they'd come out. Darcy was going without the rubbers. She wanted to be pregnant when Bill went off to war. They both thanked me, then went over to thank Wes. Bill put his hand on Wes's shoulder and talked to him just as if he could hear him. The next visitors I got were Joey and Vicky. We'd made plans to go to the drive in Friday night. God, that was tonight. The girls from the cheer squad wanted to meet my brother, this hunk that Sam and I had fallen in love with. Next to Sam, Vicky was the quiet one on the team. She shyly admitted she'd like to get to know Joey better and this was going to be her chance. And now she was hanging all over Joey like they'd been going together for months. I also found out that the whole squad had been holding vigil since the night of the accident. They were there in the waiting room while we were being operated on and most of them had been every day since then to check on us. Mom and Sam were committed. They felt they had to be there 24 hours a day. But it had to be boring, keeping watch over a drugged out girl and a boy in a coma. I'm sure the girls were a big help. You never get bored with that group. The other person who showed up a lot was Nancy. She worked for the hospital as a candy striper. She was the one who wheeled me into the room after my tests. She was doing a lot of things that nurses would normally do. My doctor had taken her under his wing and they were trying an experiment to get the candy stripers more involved in the hospital to free up the nurses a bit. Nancy was also going to spend some time at our house after Wes and I went home helping Mom out. I was glad about that. Mom looked pretty wiped out. The accident really changed Sam. She got real serious. The girl I used to joke with was gone. So was the girl I used to take advantage of. She was perfectly willing to help me out but her primary concern was Wes. If she had been helping me walk and he called her, I know she would think nothing of dropping me and running to him. There was a determination about her. She wouldn't admit there was a chance he wouldn't come through everything OK. She would tighten up her face and stare down anyone who would suggest such a thing. She'd talk to me, Mom, the girls in the squad or whoever else was in the room but her attention was always stuck on the boy in the bed next to me. Saturday morning rolled around and Doctor Bradley came in and gave me a pretty thorough examination. He asked if it was easier to pee (it was) and if my back hurt (it did but nowhere near as bad as before). Then he asked if I'd like to recover at home. I couldn't believe it. I hadn't thought about it but I guess I was just expecting to stay in the hospital room forever. Well, not forever, but probably some weeks. That was when he told me that Nancy was going to come over to the house two or three times a day and help out. He made me promise not to do any of my cheer routines till I'd healed. I promised. Nancy helped me get dressed and into a wheel chair. Mom came in the room and hugged me. I was going to take an ambulance home. Dr. Bradley and Nancy were going to ride with me. Mom would follow in her car. Sam came in and said she would see me in a few days when Wes came home. I hate to admit it but when she told me that I wondered if it would ever happen. We passed by the nurses station on the way to the elevator. The two nurses on duty came out and said goodbye. I guess they'd seen me a lot when I was unconscious, they hadn't been in much the day I'd been awake. We took the elevator down to the emergency room and went out to the ambulance. They lifted the wheelchair into the back and clamped the wheels down somehow. Nancy and the doctor got in. We didn't use sirens, we didn't even go very fast. As we pulled out from the ambulance ramp I looked through the back windows. I could see the hospital rising up to the sky. Somewhere in there was the shell of my brother, my lover. I hoped Wes would come back to me soon. ------- Chapter 4: Another Way To Love Well, the ambulance pulled into our driveway and they opened the back doors and got me out. I almost felt like throwing up when I saw the dark stain on the grayish asphalt of the road. It looked like someone had tried to clean up Wes' blood but it had left its mark. Mom pulled up and had to park in the street, her car blocking my view of the accident's remains. The two attendants were able to muscle me up the stairs and into my room. It's not real easy to carry a wheelchair up a flight of stairs. And it's no fun being the one in the wheelchair they're carrying. They put me down in my room and went back downstairs. I was alone in the room with its memories. There, on my headboard was the ribbon I'd wrapped around my waist with the bow big enough to cover me. I'd had it on when Wes came back to me after an argument that made me think he was going to leave me forever. He tried to undo the bow but couldn't and had to shove it down my body before making fierce love to me. We fell asleep after and Wes woke me with his tongue. Next to the bed was the night table with the Jiminy Cricket hat I got when I was 6. It had just sat there for eight years since we got back from Disneyland until Wes used the ribbon to blindfold me and the feather to drive me to places I couldn't even imagine before that. My chair, waiting patiently for Wes to sit in and put me over his knee for another deserved spanking. And on top of my dresser sat my birth control pills, untouched since the day before the accident. I'd have to ask my doctor about that. Mom came in the room and saw the tears on my face. She leaned over and gave me a hug, or at least as good a hug as you can give someone in a wheelchair. "I know how it is, Baby. I'm sure I'll feel the same way when I have to go in my room. All we can do is pray for him to get better." Mom turned down the sheets as Nancy and the doctor got me out of the wheelchair and sat me on the edge of the bed. He left so they could get me into a nightgown and into bed. I had mixed feelings about my doctor. I'd found out that if he hadn't been there, Wes would probably have gotten the kidney transplant but they would have just done what they could to stabilize his legs and back until he was fully healed from the operation. At that point they would have had a much more difficult time doing anything with his legs, possibly needing to break them again so they could heal properly. And the chances of his walking afterward were almost zero. It looked like Wes had a pretty good shot at walking again, at least with the aid of crutches or a cane. Provided he woke up. Doctor Bradley had a unique attitude towards life. He seemed to embrace it, diving into any situation with both hands, grabbing everything he could. He thought nothing of making a complete fool of himself and people loved him for it. And he cared. About everybody. You could see the looks on everyone's face as he was around them. They would sacrifice just about anything for him if he asked it. Half the women I saw would bed him in an instant if given the chance. Lord knows he took care of me and my brother. We got treated like royalty, not only by him but by everyone else, simply because he expected it. Even the other doctors and the administrators made an effort I don't think they normally would have when he was around. I know he had to fight to get the team he needed to operate on both Wes and me and do all the operations at once on Wes but they all seemed to be glad they'd done it after it was all over. One thing that bothered me was that one of the women who had fallen under his spell was my mother. And she'd already kicked my father out of the house. I know, my father was pretty much out already, pretending to be on business trip after business trip when he was really shacking up with his secretary. And the latest word was she was expecting a baby, either a step- sister or brother to me and my brothers. And the good doctor wasn't taking advantage of the situation. Hell, he could have had her countless times in the hospital or right after they got me into my bed. But his morals, code of honor, ethics, whatever you want to call it wouldn't allow him to do anything. You could tell by just looking at him how much he wanted Mom and there was no doubt she was more than willing. But he insisted that everything be done properly. Kicking Dad out of the house and even filing for divorce wasn't going to be enough. He was going to wait until she and Dad were actually divorced before he was going to touch her. And I had a pretty good idea he was going to make damn sure they were both in love with each other before he took her to bed. He just wasn't interested in playing catch for a woman on the rebound. The big thing that bothered me is that I knew he saw right through me. I'd made a career of getting my way. I was something special and I knew it. And I expected to be treated that way. The first time I saw him we were in an examination room. He'd just gotten through his initial examination of Wes. I found out later he'd already removed the damaged kidneys and my brother was already on borrowed time. He first looked at Mom and there was an instant of pure lust. If he'd attacked her right then I wouldn't have been surprised. This changed to a look of adoration, almost like a puppy. I've seen some of that look in his face ever since that first meeting every time he looks at her. He checked out Sam. I saw a slight smile on his face. Not a smile that said he was attracted to her, even though it was obvious he was to some extent. No, this was more of a smile of acceptance, of reassurance and an indication that he was aware she knew who she was and what she wanted and he was happy for her. Then he looked at me. I swear to God, for that second or two our eyes met I felt naked. As if he could see through me. At that point I knew exactly how he saw me — as a selfish little girl, too used to getting her own way with nothing more than a beautiful body to show for herself. It wasn't long before I was telling him to use my kidney for Wes. I don't know that his look was the reason but I don't know that it wasn't, either. I honestly don't know why I did it. To do something Mom and Sam couldn't so I'd be more important? For all the times he'd taken care of me when I was hurt? To show this smart ass doctor he was wrong? Because I didn't want to live if Wes wasn't going to be there for me? I still look at that moment in time and the closest I can come is it was an impulsive decision I made. I don't know if I'll ever be able to figure out why I really did it. These thoughts all ran through my mind as he came into my room and told me he was proud of me. He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. And at that point none of it seemed to matter. I knew he was there for me, no matter who I was. You wouldn't think that being pushed and carried around in a wheelchair would wear someone out, but it sure did me. I was exhausted. Mom brought a glass of water in and set in on the nightstand so I could reach it. Nancy suggested that I raise up a bit so she could put a pillow under the scar where they'd removed my kidney. I lay back down and must have fallen asleep because that's the last thing I remember for a while. The next few days are all a jumble to me. I'd fall asleep in the middle of the day and be wide awake at night. I know I drove Mom crazy. I'd get hungry at night and make her get up and fix me something. I got bored and expected her to do something about it. What I expected, I have no idea, but I know I really ran her ragged. Saturday afternoon the cheer squad showed up at the house. They'd gone to the hospital and found I was gone. Wes was still in his coma, of course, and they tried to talk to Sam. I guess she was in a real "mother hen" mood and nothing was good enough for her and she wouldn't let them talk too loud or get too close to Wes. They finally gave up and came over to my house. They actually stopped going in to see Wes after that. They'd spend time with me. I noticed a lot of the time it was right about lunch or dinner time and Mom would end up feeding them as well as the three of us. Nancy had been a godsend. She came by on Sunday while they were in my room, drinking cokes and eating chips they'd had Mom get for them, lounging around, being sponges. Nancy said she was going to change my bandages and they needed to leave. She wasn't the sweetest person in the world when she said it, but she wasn't rude about it, either. Like a nurse would have. The girls weren't happy they had to get off their butts and Stacy called her a bitch under her breath. I tore into the lot of them. I told them this was bullshit. Here Nancy spent a good part of her day changing my sheets, taking me to the bathroom, washing me, changing my dressing and all they could do was lay around mooching food off my mom and complain about everybody else. Stacy came up to Nancy and apologized to her for calling her a name. They all filed out of the room with their heads down and Mom told me later they helped her hang up some clothes and do the dishes. When the cheer squad was visiting me in the hospital, there was a big discussion about Nancy liking girls. Nobody had any proof, but there were lots of rumors and she never dated. She hadn't done anything since I'd known her to give me an opinion one way or the other. She actually seemed overly cautious when she was working on me. She had to change the dressing on my scar a couple of times a day. This meant rolling me over on my stomach and lifting my nightgown up to my waist. I had no underpants on so my butt was right there in front of her face. She was always very professional in working with the bandage, never seeming to pay any attention to the rest of my body. She gave me a bath of sorts each day. She'd bring in a bowl of warm water and a washcloth. She'd pull the sheets off me and raise my nightgown up to my neck, then give me the washcloth. I'd wash my front, between my legs and my butt. Nancy would do my legs, arms and back. It was always done efficiently but it seemed... I don't know... professional. That all changed on Tuesday. Wes had been brought home earlier. I saw them bring him past my room on a stretcher. Mostly plaster with just his head visible. The parade walked by as I lay in my bed. The ambulance guys with the stretcher and Wes, Sam, Mom, Doctor Bradley. A few minutes later they all left except Sam and my brother. It must have been 20 minutes later when I heard Wes calling out. Something like a moan but it sounded like he was trying to say something. Sam came running out of his room and down the stairs. The next thing I heard was the three of them running back up the stairs and into Wes' room. A couple of minutes later Dr. Bradley came out of his room and into mine. "I thought you might like to know what was going on with your brother." "Thanks. I would." "Well, he just made some kind of involuntary noise. He's still pretty much the same as he was in the hospital." "It sounded like he was trying to talk." "I'm not going to argue with you on that. We hardly know anything about comas. Who knows how aware he is. And I don't find it surprising that he might have something to say after being in a coma for almost a week." I didn't realize it but most of the time we'd been talking he was examining me. He held one of my eyelids open and shined a light in my eye. "So, have you got any questions for me?" "When can I have some real food?" "Oh, I think you start getting some solid food whenever you want. But don't go overboard. Do you remember how much it hurt to pee after we removed the catheter?" "Oh, yeah. I don't think I'll forget that very soon." "Well, this will be worse." He went through some tips on what I could and shouldn't do as far as food was concerned. "Remember, whatever you put in is going to have to come out." I reached up and we gave each other a hug. "I bet you're getting pretty tired of being in this bed, aren't you?" "God, yes. I've been to the bathroom a few times a day, but that's all." "Well, you're starting to get pale and fat. I think you should get Sam to take you out in the back yard and let you lay out in the sun for awhile. If you can't make it back up the stairs right away when you come back in, lie down on the couch for a bit. No marathons, but you need to get up and move around. Maybe you can get Sam to take a hose to your hair and wash some of the crud out of it." "Really? I can wash my hair? Thank you doctor." I reached up for another hug. When he leaned over I kissed him right on the lips. He had a smirk on his face as he pulled away. Sam and Mom had been in the room for the end of this. Sam stayed while he and Mom went back downstairs. I got Sam to help me put on my bikini. She followed me into the bathroom and I told her which shampoo and conditioner to get while I sat on the pot and peed. She walked backwards down the stairs in front of me, holding onto my waist as I held onto the banister for dear life. We made it outside and she put me on a lounge chair. Oh, God. Out in the sun for the first time in a week. It felt so good. I undid my top. The walk had really tired me out so I just lay there on the lounge chair. Sam was gone for a while picking up the stuff to wash and dry my hair. Sam washed my hair with a bucket of water, pouring a pitcher at a time on me to get it wet or rinse it off. It was nice and warm but it felt so good I wouldn't have minded ice cold water from a mountain stream. She did the same thing with the conditioner. I didn't say anything but I would have given my soul to be able to dunk myself in a pool or rinse myself off somehow. I know Nancy had washed me off but I could still feel the drugs that had worked their way out of my body. The next thing I knew, Sam poured water on both legs from the knees on down. I heard this "shussing" sound and then I felt her rubbing shaving cream all over the bottom half of my left leg. "Thank you. Thank you." She had it shaved in no time, then did the other. She came up near my head, grabbed my hand and lifted the arm so she could get my underarm. Then she went around to the other side and did that one. I felt 100% better but I still felt gross. Sam showed me the bucket with all the hair stubs and shaving cream floating on it and said she'd be right back. She handed me a towel and a brush for my hair. The next thing I know, Sam's taping something over my bandage and then pulling down my pants. I feel warm water being poured on my butt and down my legs. I turned around and was able to see her dip a washcloth in the bucket and then rub soap on it till it was all soapy. Sam had the washcloth in her hand. She put it down on my butt and started to clean me. Places that had been missed in the sponge baths got nice warm, smooth soap all over them. She did my butt, my legs and my feet. She would take a foot in her hand and make sure each individual toe was completely washed. It was one of the most sensual things I've ever felt but there was nothing sexual about it. Sam was washing me like a nurse would. Doing an excellent job, covering all areas, but nothing like a lover would do, for instance. But God, it felt so good to be clean. I could feel all the drugs I'd sweated out being washed off my body. The nice, warm washcloth just relaxed me and took me to a whole new world. Sam was just starting to work on my back when Nancy came out of the house and asked what she was doing with her patient. Sam told her that I needed to be washed all over. She did my back, careful to keep water off the bandage, then did each arm and every finger, just like she had with my legs and feet. Do you know how good it feels to have each finger washed with a warm soapy washcloth after a week of no soap? Sam told Nancy she could rinse off my back. She poured water on it and then scraped it off with her bare hand. Sam took the empty bucket to get more water and gave her a towel. She started to dry my back. That felt good, too. I started moaning when she'd hit a good spot. Before I knew it she was done with everything but my butt and between my legs. She opened up the towel and dropped one layer over me, then used the side of her hand between my ass cheeks and legs. I moaned some more and she kept doing it till Sam came back out. Sam had Nancy help flip me over on my back. She took the towel I'd used on my hair and put it under the bandage. Nancy got a new washcloth, soaked it in the clean water and rubbed the soap on it till it was nice and soapy. She started on my chest. God, it felt good. It had been a week since I'd had any sensation there, too. It wasn't long till my nipples both stood up firm and proud. I could feel them catch on the washcloth as she ran it from side to side, top to bottom. I sighed and closed my eyes, loving the sensations or the rough cloth and the warm, smooth suds and her firm, loving hand guiding everything. Sam spoiled the moment. "Looks like you're not the only one enjoying this, Les." I looked up at Nancy. I could see the fear in her face. "Please, don't tell Dr. Bradley. I don't want to lose my job." I grabbed her hand and pulled it back to my chest. "There's no reason you can't enjoy this. Do I have anything to be afraid of?" "No. I'd never make you do anything." Then keep going. It felt so good." She worked on my breasts a little, then started to work her way down. She washed me like Sam had. No feeling. "Nancy, it feels like you're washing a car. Put some feeling into it." Nancy proceeded to wash the rest of my front. She took very good care to make sure I was nice and clean between my legs. The sun shining down on me and the nice, warm, soapy washcloth rubbing over my pussy felt so good. Sam came back with some more water and they rinsed me off. She asked Nancy to dry me off and went off to put stuff away. Nancy asked her to bring out her bag when she was done. When Nancy finished drying me off, I asked her to rub my tits with her hand like she had with the washcloth. Sam came out a few minutes later. Nancy asked her if she was OK with what she was doing. Sam said it didn't bother her any and as long as Nancy didn't force herself on anyone she was fine with it. But she sure didn't sound like it. She had this "holier than thou" attitude that really pissed me off. Nancy asked her to help turn me over so she could change the dressing on my back. She went back to being an efficient caretaker. They got me up, put my bathing suit back on me and helped me back into the house. I was pretty wiped out so I had them put me on the couch. Nancy asked if I'd like a massage. I couldn't think of anything I'd enjoy more after that sensuous bath and told her so. Sam, Mom and Nancy got Wes out of bed and strapped into a chair. Sam was going to cut his hair and shave him. Mom was sent to bed to take a nap. She definitely needed the rest. Nancy came down and asked me if I wanted a wet or dry massage. She'd use mineral oil for the wet one. After I decided on a wet massage, she told me she was worried about getting oil on the couch. We could use the carpet or go up to my room and cover the bed with a sheet. I figured I'd probably be totally relaxed after the massage so I might as well get up to bed while I still had the strength. Nancy went up to put a sheet over my bed. She came back and we made our way up the stairs. It was pretty rough going but she stayed behind me and made sure I didn't fall backwards. I used two hands on the banister the whole time. I looked at the bed. All the bedclothes had been pulled off and there was a king size sheet folded in half on the mattress. Nancy asked if I wanted to keep my bathing suit on. I checked and she assured my she wouldn't do anything I didn't want her to do. If things got too personal, I could always have her stop. I stripped off my suit and lay on the sheet. You don't know how good I felt. I was tired from the trip upstairs. My body felt clean for the first time in a week. The sheet was cool and clean. And my hair... God, it felt like my hair for the first time since I'd last been with Wes. Cleaned, conditioned, brushed out till it shined, so soft and silky against my back. I felt better than any time since the operation. Nancy poured some oil into her hands and warmed it up. I was on my stomach. She had me put my forehead on my hands and started working on my neck. She didn't just rub some oil on me, she worked on it. She used her thumbs and her fingers on each vertebra. She worked the muscles until I didn't know if I'd be able to hold up my head. My neck had never felt so relaxed. More oil, she started on my back. The muscles tried to stay tight, they had no chance against her. She attacked them till they felt like rubber. Again, each vertebra was worked with her skill. She finally got down near my butt. She seemed to dig in above my remaining kidney. I felt a bolt of electricity shoot through me and into her fingers. I kept my mouth closed so I wouldn't scream out loud. Nancy stopped what she was doing, afraid she was hurting me. I begged her not to stop, telling her she was just pulling the charge that had accumulated out of my kidney area. She took off the bandage and carefully worked both sides, making sure she didn't dig into my stitches. She could almost get right up to the stitches before it got uncomfortable. I couldn't believe how relaxed that area was when she was done. She put on a fresh dressing and then got back to work. First my right leg top to bottom. Any tenseness or tightness in my body just didn't stand a chance against her. When she got down to my right foot and was massaging oil into every part of it I thought it couldn't get any better. She proved me wrong by massaging each toe and then pulling on it until the knuckle cracked. She repeated on my left leg and then both arms and hands. She had now massaged every available part of my body except my butt. I was curious what she would do. Very lightly, I felt her rubbing oil into the cheeks of my butt. I groaned and told her to keep going. She dug into the muscles as if it was any other part of my body. I had no idea my butt could relax but it did. She broke my reverie by telling me it was time to turn over. She told me to brush the hair out of my face, then had me close my eyes. I figured she would start on my shoulders or even my tits. The next thing I felt was her magic fingers working on my forehead. After a few minutes she was massaging my temples, then under my eyes and all over my face. She worked on my collarbone, then my shoulders. Next up was my legs. She spent a lot of time on my knees. Again, I was surprised at how relaxed they felt after she was done. She moved up to my stomach and finally my tits. She obviously knew what felt good. My nipples stuck up. Big and hard. Nancy proceeded to work them between her thumbs and fingers. They didn't relax. Nancy backed off. She was looking at me, obviously waiting for me to make the next move. "Nancy. Do you ever play with yourself?" "Yes." "Could you play with me?" I spread my legs. I could feel the moisture act like glue as my lips fought to open up. Nancy reached for her bottle of oil and I spread my legs further, bringing my feet up almost to my ass. She held out three fingers of her right hand and put oil on them... She bent over and reached between my legs, resting the back of the fingers on the bed. I felt her middle finger push slightly on my anus as the other two rested on the inside of the crack between my cheeks. She then pulled her fingers up slowly, applying pressure all the way up. She dipped into my vagina for a second as she passed by, flicked over my urethra and then nipped my clit on the way by. She lay the fingers down on the bed and poured a little more oil on them. She took the same trip, spending a little more time in my vagina and stopping to massage my clit a bit. More oil, more massage. She would push that middle finger in my butt and move it in and out a few times before heading up to the next hole where all three fingers would dip in and out several times. Up to my clit where she would grab it, pull it away from my body and let it slip out of her oiled fingers. Two fingers in my butt, her three fingers inserted as far as they could go into my cunt, getting rougher and rougher with my clit. I finally growled as she brought her fingers up to my clit and held her hand there with one of mine as I clamped my legs on our hands. I grabbed at my tits with the other hand and lifted my ass as high off the bed as I could as I came. I dropped to the bed slowly and let go of my tits and Nancy's hand. She disappeared for a minute and then was back with a nice warm washcloth. She wiped off my face and my fingers, then did between my legs. So soft, so loving. I don't know when they got in there but Sam was holding me up while Mom helped Nancy put the bedclothes back on the bed. They worked me into a clean nightgown and lay me down. Mom ran her hand through my hair and kissed me. Sam leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. And then Nancy did the same. I fell asleep, fulfilled, contented. I'm sorry Wes, I need this feeling. I can't give this up. ------- Chapter 5: Adjusting I woke up feeling more rested than I had since the accident. The Accident. I might as well say since the time my life fell apart. Since my world ended. Funny how we play with words to make them less meaningful. She's in a family way. She fulfilled her wifely duties. The accident. I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I lost the lover I'd been pursuing for the past few years. What Sam had started and Nancy had finished had felt good. Beyond good. I needed that feeling. Oh, the climax was out of this world. But the compassion, the tenderness, the love that I felt throughout the whole incident was what I needed. And I have to admit, the adoration, too. I went into the bedroom next to mine. There was Wes, encased in plaster. Sam had cut his hair and shaved his face. He didn't know I was there. He didn't care that I'd let others touch me. My brother had deserted me. And I honestly didn't think he was going to come back. I sat there. Looking at him with tears streaming down my face. Yes, I felt sorry for myself. I also felt sorry for us. Sam wasn't in the room. From what I'd seen and heard, this was unique. She'd been with him practically every second since she ran out of the kitchen the minute he was run over. She'd told me she loved him. I thought we could share him, with me getting the major part of his love, Sam getting the leftovers. She'd staked her claim. Nobody could look at her when she was in the room with Wes and not know he was her man. I didn't feel that she'd stolen him from me. She was willing to gamble on his coming back, waking up. And that when he awoke, he would go to her, not into my arms. Her love was that strong. I actually envied her, wishing I could love somebody with that much intensity, that much devotion, that much faith. As much as it saddened me to admit it, I was too devoted to me and what I wanted to make the sacrifices Sam had. It was just after 11 at night. I moved closer and stroked my brother's cheek with the back of my hand. He even felt lifeless. His skin wasn't alive. Not quite a mannequin, but similar. Sam had washed his hair. It felt smooth and silky. But it wasn't the hair I'd run my fingers through and grabbed when he'd made me come. I stood and put the chair back under his desk. I went back to the bed and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye, my love. Wherever you are." I walked out of the room and turned off the light. I felt a loss but there was also a little relief mixed in with it. Mom's door was open. I looked inside. She was curled on her side, her arms wrapped around Jaz. Oh, Jaz. If only you were a few years older. Much as I wanted to, I didn't wake Mom to get me something to eat. I felt proud of myself. I made my way to the top of the stairs and grabbed hold of the banister. Two hands. I felt good walking down the stairs. I lifted my right arm off and walked as if I was a normal person. I would put my right foot out and down to the next step. Then the left would go to the same step. All the way down. I vowed to take them two at a time within a week. I got down to the bottom and sat down to catch my breath. Boy, I can't even walk down my own stairs without getting tired. Time to get out of bed and get some exercise. I went into the kitchen and checked it out for snacks. There was one piece of Mom's chocolate cake left. She makes the best cake. Nope. What goes in has to come out. No cake yet. I opened up the refrigerator. One thing about Dad being out of the house, he wasn't going to yell at me for keeping the door open and cooling the whole god damn house. There was a bowl of hard boiled eggs. No thanks. A chunk of sharp cheddar cheese, still in the wrapper. Oh, boy. Wes and I would sit down after school and go through that stuff like candy. Or watch TV and slice it real thin and have it on saltines. But I didn't need any cheese binding up my system. Grape juice. That should be OK. I poured a glass and sipped it while I checked out the rest of the refrigerator. Left over turkey. Nope. Meat loaf. Oh, God. Mom makes the best meat loaf. OK. Just a little slice. Way in the back. A bowl covered with tinfoil. I pulled it out. Mom's specialty, Jaz's favorite. I remember eating this all the time as a kid. Mom would make regular egg noodles and then stir in canned tomatoes and cook the whole thing for a few minutes. Nothing fancy, but all us kids loved noodles and tomatoes. The trick was to take the big tomato pieces and squish them before putting them in with the noodles. I emptied some in a saucepan. I put the saucepan on the stove on a low flame. I didn't want to turn on the oven for one slice of meatloaf. I dug around in the pots and pans and found a strainer that would fit over the top of the saucepan. I set it over the noodles and tomatoes and put the meatloaf inside. I even found a lid that would cover the whole thing. Kind of a home made food steamer. I got some more juice and sat down at the table to wait for my food to warm up. I saw something on the floor, sticking out from under the bench. I reached down to pick it up. Oh, God. Tiger Beat. The magazine I'd been reading that Saturday a week and a half ago when Wes came into the kitchen and raped me. I must have dropped it on the floor during the confusion and it got kicked under the bench. Would there ever come a day when I wouldn't run across something to remind me of Wes? My food was ready. I put it on a plate and sat down to eat. God, it tasted good. No more mush for me. The noodles and tomatoes brought back memories of Wes and me after school 6 or 8 years ago. And Mom, running around the kitchen in her apron, making sure we had a good snack before we went out to play, looking beautiful as ever. All in all, we had a good life. I hoped the rest would be as good. And that Wes would be back to share it with us. After I was done eating, I checked the freezer. Ice Cream! Heck, they gave it to kids in the hospital after they had their tonsils out. Why not. I filled a pretty good sized bowl, got myself a spoon and chowed down. Neopolitan, with little chunks of real frozen strawberry in it. I was in heaven. I washed and dried my dishes and put them away. I took my time and was able to make it up the stairs by myself. I went into the bathroom, took a pee, brushed my teeth and washed my face. By that time I was ready to sleep the rest of the night. I woke up relaxed the next morning. Wednesday. I had no problem getting into the bathroom. I checked Mom's room on the way. Mom and Jaz were still sleeping. I took care of things, including using the toilet. It was actually much easier than my doctor had led me to believe. A little pressure near the incision but no real pain. I figured I'd still take it easy with the hard to digest foods. I still felt fine after using the toilet and got in the shower. I was able to shower with no problem. I wasn't able to get my back completely because of the bandage, but it felt good to clean up. And better to be able do it myself. Mom and Jaz were gone. They must have gotten up while I was in the shower. I went into my room and got dressed. Another first. I put on a pair of really tight shorts and a shirt I tied under my tits. I looked good. I put on a real sexy pair of sandals to finish it off. I still put both feet on each step, but I was a lot quicker getting down the stairs. And I didn't have to sit down and rest. Mom and Jaz were in the kitchen. She was doing something on the counter, her back to me. Jaz jumped up when he saw me, a big smile on his face. "LES!!" He ran up to me and gave me a big hug. "OK, big fella. I can't pick you up. How about I sit down on the bench and you can sit on my lap?" He let me sit and climbed on top of me. He wrapped his arms around my neck and gave me a big kiss. "I missed you, Les. Are you OK now?" "I sure am. I walked down the stairs all by myself." "Wow!" He gave me another kiss, then went back to his Trix. Jaz and his Trix. Like Liberace and his candlesticks. Mom had been waiting patiently, giving Jaz whatever time he needed. "Was that you I heard in the shower?" "Well, it sure wasn't Wes." It came out before I even realized what I said. Mom looked like I'd slapped her in the face. My hands flew up to my mouth all by themselves. "Oh, God, Mom. I don't know... I didn't even think. It just came out. I'm so sorry." "That's OK honey. I think we're all walking on pins and needles. Did you take care not to get your bandage wet?" "Yeah, I did. But I'll tell you, it sure felt good. You know what else felt good?" "What, Dear?" "I did something I haven't done in a long time." "What's that?" I looked at my little brother, stirring his cereal in the milk. What the hell... "I pooped." Jaz giggled. "Mom, Les said 'poop'." "That's OK, Jaz. So, did you have any problems?" "No, it was surprisingly easy. I had a snack last night after you guys went to bed." "Oh, Honey. You should have gotten me up. I don't want you walking up and down the stairs at night. What if you fell?" "Mom, you do enough for me. And by the way, I'm getting very good at going up and down the stairs. I made it all the way down this morning without having to rest when I was done." "Alright, if you're sure. You know how I worry." "I'll be fine. I need to get my strength back. I still want to be on the cheer squad when we start school in a month." "Oh, I don't know about that. If Jeff says it's OK, I guess you can." "I'll check with him before I do anything major like that, Mom." She ran he hand through my hair. "God, I love you all. I just don't want anything else to happen to any of you." "I know, Mom. But we can't live in a bubble." "Speaking of which. Would you like some breakfast?" Mom made me an omelet with cottage cheese in it. Sounds gross, but don't knock it if you haven't tried it. And I was able to get rid of it later with no problems. ------- Chapter 6: Recuperation The next few days were spent on getting my body back to where it belonged. I got better and better at going up and down the stairs. By Saturday, I could take them one at a time, my right foot on one step, my left on the next, all the way up or down. No need to rest at the end. My hand slid down the banister as I walked but I didn't need it for support. I spent a lot of time out in the backyard. I just lay out as long as I could, working on my tan. I even spent some time without my bathing suit bottoms. The bandage got smaller and smaller each day, but I wished it was gone so I could tan there as well. Jeff came in my room to see me Friday evening. I was lying on my bed in a nightgown. We'd talked a few times. He was pretty sure he was going to marry Mom, though he made sure we all knew that she was going to make the final decision on that, both by getting everything handled (by that he meant a completed divorce from my father) and by showing that she wanted him, not just to be married. He had no qualms about telling me what he expected from her as if she was somewhere else when she was right there with us in the room. And then he'd look at her and smile and wink. I'd never seen my mother blush before but he could make her do it. Every time. It was kind of neat to see. I felt good for her. Anyway, the bottom line was that neither of us felt comfortable with me calling him Dad and Doctor or Doctor Bradley were just too formal. Doctor Jeff sounded too dorky. We settled on me calling him Jeff. He would mess up my hair and call me Half Pint. God I hated that for the first few days. And then it was OK. I eventually grew to love it. So Jeff had me on my stomach, my bare ass looking him right in the face and he took the bandage off. "Boy, this looks pretty gross." "What's wrong. Nancy keeps telling me it's healing fine." "Well, that's why Nancy wears a pink dress. And why I get to wear those spiffy white smocks." "Am I going to have to go back into the hospital?" "I think we can handle it here. That is if you don't mind a little pain." "How little?" "You know when you go to the dentist and he sticks that big long needle in your gums? There's some pain at first and then it's gone?" "Yeah." "Well, kind of like that needle prick. And then maybe some pressure. And then another prick, some more pressure. You should be able to handle it alright." "OK. I guess. You're the doctor." "Darn right, And I've got the toys to prove it. Let me go get them. Be right back." He threw the sheet over my back, leaving my nightgown up to my waist. He went downstairs and I heard the squeak as he opened the trunk on the old Mercedes he drove. The guy could probably afford a Corvette, or at least one of the new Mustangs, but he drives this clunky old blue Mercedes four door. I heard the trunk slam. He came into the room, pretending to pant. He had his old, black medical bag with him. "Boy, those stairs are something else. I don't know how you do it." "Easy. I'm not a tired old man like you are." He pulled the blankets down and swatted me on the butt. It stung and I reached back to rub it. "Yeah, it'll sting about like that." He dug around in his bag. I was watching, wondering what he was up to. "You'd better turn around and bury your face in the pillow. You don't want to see this. I told you it was gross. Do you want me to try and find a bullet for you to bite on?" I laughed. "No. I think I'll be OK without the bullet." I pushed my face into the pillow. "Atta girl." He put his hand down on my back I could feel his palm above the scar, his thumb just below. I heard a snip and felt a slight pull. He rested some tool of his on my butt and I heard him moving things around in his medical bag. The noise stopped and I sensed him turning around. I felt another tug and a slight sting. He put the new tool on my butt and picked up the other. "You're taking my stitches out." "Well, I told you you looked gross. Do you know how white this part of your back is? He ran his palm over my left butt cheek. You've got this nice tan butt and this white patch right above it. Gross." I turned around, trying to see what he was doing. "Come on. You're scrunching up your back. It's going to hurt more and I won't be able to do it properly. Turn around and lie down flat." I did and he proceeded to take the rest of the stitches out. He finished and then rubbed his thumb across the healed incision. "Any pain?" "No. It feels fine." "I'm afraid you're going to have a scar. It couldn't be helped. We were pretty rushed trying to handle Wes that night." "I can live with it." I was disappointed. I'd never thought about getting a scar out of the operation. I found out later what an ass Jeff can be. Yes, I did have a scar. It looked like a blond hair about an inch long was laying horizontally on the left part of my lower back. You have no idea how many people would see it at the beach, pool, whatever and try to pick up the hair that was on my back. For years complete strangers would walk up to me and say "Excuse me, you've got a loose hair on your back." He swatted me on the butt again after he put his tools away. "Well, Half Pint. It's about time you took a real shower. I want you to stand under the hot water and let it run all over your back. And if you need to use a brush to wash your lower back, do so." I sat up and kissed my doctor. There wasn't anything sexual about it and there never was. In that respect, he was like Sam. You could just tell that he was taken and it would be a total waste of time to try anything with him. I spent most of Saturday afternoon getting an all over tan. Nancy nor I had said anything regarding our bath and massage. She had been quietly efficient since then. Of course, I hadn't needed much from her now that I was up and about. She came out to the back yard and we talked for a few minutes. "Nancy. I haven't really had a chance to talk to you since the other afternoon. I want you to know that I really appreciate what you did for me." "That's OK, Les." "No, I don't think you understand. I was really hurting. The bath you and Sam gave me was wonderful. I've never felt so pampered and special. And then the massage was just fantastic. I had no idea I could get so relaxed. But what I needed more than either of those was to feel loved. And you gave me that. I know it only happened that one time and I don't expect it to happen again. But that day, it was exactly what I needed. You don't know how I felt before you took care of me." "I think I do, Les." "Oh. OH. I'm sorry Nancy. I didn't think. I'm not that way. I hope you weren't expecting me to do anything for you." "That's OK, Les. It's my job to nurse you. To take care of your needs. I knew what you wanted that afternoon. I should say needed. When you asked me I was happy to do it. I'm glad I was able to help. I really didn't expect anything in return. I just wanted to make sure you were OK with what happened. I know Sam was a little weird about it." "You can say that again. Sam's been a little weird about a lot of stuff lately. No, Nancy. I'm totally fine with what happened the other day. I'm grateful and I thank you. And I'll remember it fondly for the rest of my life. "I'm glad. I just want to let you know that I'll be here a couple of times a day to help out Wes. If there's anything you need from me, don't be afraid to ask." Jeff came out the back door and walked back to us, smiling. He swatted me on the ass. "Hi, Half Pint. See why I like to make house calls, Nancy?" He checked out the incision area, comparing it to my butt. "I think another couple of days and they'll match." He gave me another swat. "How's the food going, Half Pint?" "Pretty good. I'm eating just about anything." "Well, that's good. I've convinced your mother that I know how to barbecue and she's going to let me cook dinner for all of us tonight. We're going to have steaks, baked potatoes with sour cream and butter and fresh corn on the cob, picked by a scarecrow this afternoon. Think you can handle it?" "Yeah. I don't know about the corn. The steak and potato won't be a problem." "Well, I'm the doctor, but you know what feels right. Just make sure you're hungry. Nancy? You're welcome to come if you want." She'd been staring at the ground since Jeff came out. She started and looked at him. "Uh... Uh... I don't think I can..." She covered her face with her hands and ran into the house. It looked like she was crying as she ran inside. Jeff looked at me, concerned. "What did you do to her?" "Nothing... Nothing. We were just talking. I thanked her for... well she did some stuff the other afternoon..." "I'm perfectly aware of what happened the other afternoon. I've heard different versions of it from your mother, Sam and Nancy. Nancy was trying to get me to let her quit when I pried it out of her." "Well, I thanked her for taking care of my... my sexual needs. And she kind of said 'Forget it' and I said I really meant it and she had no idea how much I needed to and she said she did and she got awful quiet. I told her I wasn't like that and hadn't thought of doing anything to her and she said it was part of the job of taking care of me. I guess she feels pretty bad about it." "Nancy is a very confused girl. She has no idea who or what she is. She comes from a family that could care less for her. She's scorned by most of her classmates. All she gets at the hospital is orders or people ignoring her like she's part of the furniture. You have no idea how much that little 'masturbate Leslie' session meant to her. How good she felt about herself. And she was scared to death I was going to find out about it and punish her for it. You need to get up there while she's still here taking care of Wes and make it right. Do you hear me young lady?" Now I was starting to cry. "I hear you. I'm sorry. What should I do?" "Oh, No. This is your mess. I'm not getting you out of this one. You did it, you fix it. Now go. Before she leaves." I'd been putting on my bathing suit as he was chewing me out. I stood up to go after Nancy and he swatted me on the butt. You have no idea how good that felt. I screwed up and he let me know about it but he still loved me. I walked up and into the house. The stairs seemed steeper and longer than they had the past few days. I finally got to the top. Nancy was replacing Wes' bag. She was making sure to look only at Wes or the floor. I came up behind her. She was done with the bag, she just wasn't looking at me. "Nancy." "What, Les?" "Turn around. Look at me... Please." She slowly turned, looking at the floor. She was holding her hands together in front of her. "Please." I gently lifted her face so she was looking at me. The poor girl looked afraid of me, as if she was scared I would hit her. "Nancy, I'm sorry. I know what I said hurt you. That's the last thing I wanted to do. If I led you on the other day, I'm sorry. Oh, God, I'm sorry. I have this tendency to be totally selfish. Whatever I want I go after, and I don't stop to think about how it will affect anybody else. The other day it felt so good. I felt dirty and that bath made me feel so clean. And that massage relaxed me so much. It felt so good when you rubbed my tits. And the massage made me horny. God, you can't believe how horny I got. There I go again. You probably know exactly how horny I got. Nancy, I was a virgin till two weeks ago. I've never been with a girl. I know I like boys. I don't know how I'd feel being with a girl. Sam and I were both with my brother a couple of times and I got real turned on, but it was because of my brother, not Sam. I don't know that I could ever give you anything sexually. But I'd really be honored if you would be my friend. Because I do know that a real friend is something I need. And I think we could be that for each other." I held my arms out to her. She grabbed on and hugged me so tight I had a hard time breathing. She eased up a bit but was still holding on. The tears were back and she was sniffling. I held the back of her head and lay her down on my shoulder. A shoulder to cry on. I was sure it was a line from some song I'd heard somewhere. She backed up. "Les?" "Yes, Nancy." "Could we... could we just sit and talk sometimes?" "Yes, Nancy. I'd like that." "And if we have the same lunch when school starts, could we eat together once in a while?" "That would make me very happy, Nancy." "And..." She took a big sniff as if to gather her courage. "Would you mind hugging me once in a while if I need it?" I hugged her around the back with my left arm and held her to my shoulder with my right. "Any time you need a hug you let me know. I'll be glad to help you out." "Thank you Les." "Now. My doctor invited you to eat dinner with us tonight. I have no idea how good a cook he is but I don't plan on finding out all by myself. I want you to eat with us and I won't take no for an answer. You don't know who's going to need your services before the evening is done." "OK." She smiled while wiping her eyes. I reached over to Wes' nightstand and grabbed the box of Kleenex, holding it out to her. She grabbed a couple and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. I went into the bathroom and got a warm, wet washcloth. I went back into the room and wiped her face with it till she looked presentable. "Come on." I held her hand as we walked downstairs and into the kitchen. The stairs weren't as steep and were a lot shorter this trip. Mom and Jeff were sat at the kitchen table. "Jeff, Nancy is going to eat dinner with us." I squeezed her hand and she smiled her shy smile. Mom and Jeff both got up. She hugged Nancy and said "We'll be happy to have you, Dear." He messed up my hair. "Atta girl, Half Pint. I'll civilize you yet." If anyone else had said that to me I'd probably have kicked him in the balls. I just stood there and grinned like a puppy who'd just been told she was a good girl. ------- Chapter 7: Clearing The Air Sunday morning I got out of bed and took a great, big shit. If I don't sound like a lady, too bad, but that's what it was and it felt good to get rid of it. No pain, no discomfort, just that pleasure you get when your body works the way it's supposed to. I got in the shower and made sure to scrub my back well. This was another pleasure I was just getting to experience again. Of course, there were other parts of my body than my back that felt good to soap and rinse off. I found I was much more attuned to my body since my afternoon with Sam and Nancy. I could make myself feel good without having to go for the orgasm. I got dressed in shorts and a halter and ran down the stairs, two at a time. I skipped into the kitchen and yelled "Yipee! with my arms in the air." "Wow. Someone's in a good mood. What's up?" "Oh, Mom. I took the stairs two at a time. I just had the best shower." I looked over at Jaz and lowered my voice. "And you wouldn't believe the good poop I just had." Jaz giggled as Mom hugged me. "I'm so happy for you, Baby. Are you sure you're not rushing things too much?" "I'm sure. And anyway, we've got a doctor practically living here." She looked at me. "Are you OK with that, Honey? I know how you felt about Daddy..." "I'm fine, Mom. I know how Daddy feels about living here. But you better get off the stick and make sure to tie that man down or I may take him away from you. You know what they say. Turnaround is fair play." "Leslie! You wouldn't!" She looked scared that I would. As if I could even get that man to notice me when she was in the room. "No, Mom. I wouldn't. And you know damn well he wouldn't. Just do what you need to do so you don't lose him. That's all I'm trying to say. Everybody seems to think I'm the wicked witch of the north or something." She reached out and pulled me to her. Her hug felt desperate. "Oh, Leslie. You don't have any idea how much I need that man. How amazed I am that he loves me. And how afraid I am that he'll wake up one of these days and take a good look at me and decide he can do better. Or that someone else will come along before we get married. Oh God. I don't know what I'd do without him." This was the most she'd said to me since before Wes got run over. Yeah, I'm able to say he got run over. Things change. "Mom? Would you like to sit down and talk?" "Oh, Honey. Could we?" "Sure. OK if I eat breakfast first?" "Of course, Baby. Let me fix you something." She made eggs and bacon and a couple of pieces of toasted squaw bread she'd gotten from Dudley's Bakery in Julian. Actually Sam's parents had taken a drive up there and stocked up. Dudley's is one of those places you go to if you go to Julian. It's a tradition. Julian is famous for its apples and Dudley's. I've heard there's a restaurant chain back east that has some real good snacks called Stuckey's. People talk about making sure to go to a Stuckey's on their vacation. Stuckey's back east is like Dudley's in Julian. Except there's only one Dudley's. Take the 67 out past Santee and Lakeside and go up into the mountains. Pass Ramona and you've only got 20 or so miles to go. Dudley's is off on the left. You can't miss it. It's the big, long building with all the cars in the parking lot. It feels like you've driven to the end of the world but it's worth it. They make their own bread. There must be 20 different kinds. You park your car. You take a number. You wait 15 minutes to a half hour no matter what time or day of the week it is and then you have your own counter person to get whatever bread you want. And you can take as long as you want. There are guys behind the counter who have worked there for 20 years. And there are girls still in high school, making a few bucks after school and on weekends. But they all love to serve people. And they all love their bread. You ask any of them and they've got a favorite or two. What bread goes with turkey. Or mutton, roast beef, tacos. What does this one taste like. You can also try a sample piece if you're not sure. People buy boxes and boxes and stuff their freezers. My favorite is their raisin bread. Their squaw bread is so bitchin. It's hearty. You can taste the soil when you eat it. I don't mean it's like eating dirt. You can taste all the good nutrients from rich, black soil. They don't refine the heck out of it. There's actually some texture to it. You look at the slices and there may be little holes or it may look like a bunch of tiny pebbles with all the bumps. It's not smooth and flat like Wonder Bread. And if you toast it right, it's nice and crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Melt some real butter on it and you're in heaven. I finished and asked Mom for some more. She toasted enough for both of us. Jaz was long gone. Poor guy. He was left to fend for himself while I was in the hospital. He spent a day or two hanging on to Mom after she got back, following her everywhere. Then he remembered it was summer. He'd eat breakfast, go to one of his buddy's to play, maybe be home for lunch, maybe be home for dinner, maybe be home at night, then go to sleep. He always got permission to play with somebody else, eat a meal somewhere, go to the pool, beach, park with some kid and his parents, even stay over in the evening or maybe sleep over. He might call up 6 or 7 times in one day to change friends, ask if it's OK to eat lunch with Jack, can he bring Billy over for supper, whatever came up. That kid had more friends and seemed to be able to find the best activities that were going on and get himself included. But when he was here, he was here. He was fiercely attached to Mom. I never found out what happened between them while I was recovering, but when I went under the knife they were kind of distant and when I woke up they were joined at the hip. When he was around. Mom poured us both a cup of coffee and sat down with me at the kitchen table. She was going to have to get a larger percolator once Jeff moved in. I mean once she and Jeff got married. Jeff would never just move in. "OK, Mom. I've eaten, I'm full, I'm at your disposal. What did you want to talk about?" "Do you realize it's just two weeks ago that we went to Sea World? And you and your brother got together for the first time?" "Yeah, I know. It's hard to believe. Sometimes it seems like just yesterday, others it seems like years ago." "Well, we haven't had a chance to sit down and talk to each other since it started. A lot has happened in the last two weeks and we need to tell each other how we feel." "Alright. Where do you want to start?" "Well. You said something that bothered me earlier. You said 'turnabout is fair play.' Does it bother you that I was with Wes?" "Truth?" "Yes, Dear. Truth. No matter how much you think it will hurt." "OK. It did and it didn't. I didn't have any hold on him. There were times you and he were in your room and I got jealous. I'm the one who seduced him, got his virginity, convinced him he could bed me. It was like I did all the work and then you'd pass him on the way to the bathroom and grab his cock and just kind of detour him into your room. We didn't promise to love each other till we died. I felt that way but I never said it. And I'd hear you screaming and go 'I want that.' I was never mad at Wes. I always knew you were the one who seduced him away from me." "So then, you must feel it would be fair for you to steal Jeff from me. Or at least play around with him." "No, Mom. I don't. First of all, Jeff knows exactly who and what I am. He figured that out the first time he saw me and let me know he knew. I'm not comfortable enough with myself to feel comfortable with someone who knows that much about me as a lover. It's going to be tough enough having him as a step-father. Do you realize how much I got away with with Daddy? Everything I wanted. I almost begged him to punish me and he always just patted me on the head like Daisy. Jeff read me the riot act yesterday when I made Nancy cry and he made me make it right. As a future father, that's OK. It's something I've been crying out for for years. I couldn't handle that right now in a lover. Maybe one day I'll be strong enough to love someone who knows me that well and I'll hopefully be able to know them that well, too. I can't think of a more perfect relationship. But not now, with this 14 year old girl and that 26 year old man." "So, what are you going to do about Wes? You know Sam's really gotten serious about him since the accident. I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted him all for herself." "I'm sorry, Mom, but where have you been? I know damn well she wants him for herself. This probably sounds cruel, but she can have him, if he wants her. I think I was sort of playing at love with Wes. I've always loved him as a brother, as a protector, as someone to look up to and adore, but it's just not right to be with your brother the way we were. What we did was wonderful and I'll never regret any of it, even the painful stuff. We both learned so much in those few days. But they're over. I've opened Pandora's box. Actually, I've opened Leslie's box. Not to be crude, but that's what happened. And I want to continue using it. I'm not going to sit around going crazy with worry, waiting for my brother to wake up from a coma that could last forever. Wouldn't that be a bitch? Wait for Wes for years and then have him die on me?" "Oh, Les. I can't believe you're talking like this." "Mom, I don't want to be cruel. But Jeff freely admits he has no idea if Wes will ever wake up. Or if he'll ever be able to walk if he does. We've got to be honest with ourselves. Do you think your daughter should put on a cloak and sit in a rocking chair, waiting for the chance her brother may wake up and that he'll be able to learn to walk when he does, just so she can commit incest and have to hide from the rest of society for as long as they're together? Is that what you want for me, Mom?" "No, Honey. Of course not. The idea seemed so romantic when we'd talk about it, planning how you could attract him. I guess the real picture isn't the same as the romantic one we drew." "Oh, but it was. The real thing was better than anything either of us could dream up. You know that as well as I do. Once he got going there was no stopping him. He was considerate, loving, he was almost perfect. I don't know if I'll ever find another lover like Wes. But I have to look. It's cruel, especially after what I've done to him, but it's my survival we're talking about." "What do you mean, after what you've done to him?" "You realize that if it wasn't for me he wouldn't have gotten run over don't you? "Oh, Les. You can't mean that." "Of course I do. I was talking to him. He was looking back at me. I could see him concentrating on getting the mower and him into the street by feel while he was talking to me. If he'd been watching where he was going there's no way he would have been hit by that car. Hell, he could have run past the car to the other side of the street if he wasn't busy paying attention to me." "Oh, Honey. You can't go on feeling that way. It wasn't your fault you were talking to him and he went on without looking. These things happen." "Yeah, Mom. These things happen. I talk to Nancy for two minutes and she runs off crying. I talk to my brother about how happy he's made Sam and he gets run over by a car. I talked to my girlfriends about how wonderful it was to be in love and Wes threatened to cut me off and spent time in your bed. These things happen. To me. Too damn much. If I can make things like this happen, maybe I can change. Maybe I can stop for a second and look at what I'm doing and how it could affect me or someone else later. Hell, maybe I should look at how it's going to affect the other person right away. I'm tired of seeing the people in my life get hurt. I'm tired of everything I do turning around and biting me in the ass. How do you think I feel when my own mother is worried I'm going to try and steal her boyfriend?" "Oh, Leslie. I had no idea you felt this way. Can you ever forgive me for seducing your brother?" "Oh, Mom. I forgave you for that almost as soon as it happened. I know how lonely you were. I know how betrayed you felt because of Daddy and all his girlfriends. I just don't understand why you waited so long. And why it was your own son you did it with." "I've been wondering about that myself. Constantly. I've sat next to his bed for days on end, looking at him, wondering why I took him to bed and if things would be different if I hadn't. "Since we're telling the truth here, I'm going to be blunt with you. I'll never be sorry I took my son to bed. It gave me the courage to realize I didn't need to hold on to a failing marriage. If I hadn't broken that 'faithful wife' mold, I never would have let Jeff get through to me. And he's the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me. As a woman. I mean, each of you kids being born was wonderful to me as a mother. But as a woman or a lover, I've never felt anything like I do with Jeff. It was wonderful and fantastic with your father when we first met, but it's ten times better with Jeff. "Why did I stray when I did? And with Wes? It's not one or two things. It's like the time and circumstances were right for it to happen. It was like a game to me. You and I planned on you getting together with your brother and actually conspired to make it happen. When you finally got him to love you, it was exciting. It was as if we'd both won the game. I saw what the two of you had and I was jealous. You were so right for each other. Just like your father and I had been when we first got together. "He would have given his life for you. When he spanked you and hurt you, he was hurting more inside than you ever did on the outside. I could tell by looking at him. He did everything he could to make you better. It was as if he had to heal your bottom to heal himself. And that turned on my doctor fantasy, as well. "You talk about doing things without looking at the consequences. Well, I did the same thing. I was so lonely. He was so magnificent, a young boy in his prime, just discovering the joys of sex, showing how much he cared. I'd never find some guy on the street with a bond between us like I had with my son. There was no worry about someone finding out. It just seemed the perfect way to handle my loneliness. So I closed my eyes and dove in. Poor Wes never had a chance. I'm sorry for what I did and the negative ways it affected people, but I'll never be sorry it happened." "Oh, Mom. I know we both wouldn't give up the experience for anything in the world, but I can't help but wonder how it's going to affect Wes. It was bad enough when I woke up and Daddy was gone and Jeff was here. Now if he wakes, I'll be gone, maybe with somebody else. I'm pretty sure Sammy will hang around for as long as it takes. If she's one thing, she's faithful. I don't know if she'll be what he's looking for. God knows she loves him. I don't know about him. I wish he'd wake up soon and learn how to walk and run and ride his bike again and that the two of them would marry and have lots of kids. That would be nice. I don't know if it can happen. I'd hate to see him spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, not being able to have kids. She'd stick around even if that was the situation, but that's no kind of life for either of them. I don't even know if he'd let her stay if he was in that condition. Not that he'd have much choice if her mind's made up." I looked up at the Felix the Cat clock that had been there since I could walk. 10:15. "Hey mom. Do they still have a church service at 11?" "I'm sure they do. If not, we could always go in and pray." I called Sam and asked her to keep an eye on Wes while we were gone. Mom and I dressed up and got to our old church with 10 minutes to spare. There were still plenty of people outside, most of them catching their final cigarette before the service. Even though it had been several years, many of them knew us and said hello. A couple of people even knew about Wes and gave us their best wishes. The sermon was about Love Thy Neighbor. A couple of weeks ago Mom and I would have probably had a good time joking about it. It had a special meaning for me today. We didn't leave with the rest of the congregation. Both of us chose to get on our knees and pray. I have no idea what Mom prayed for. I prayed for myself, Wes, Mom, Sam, Jeff, my Dad, even his girlfriend and their unborn baby. I knew better than to pray for anything specific. Even with Wes, I just asked God to do what he knew was best for him. I felt very peaceful as I walked out into the sunlight. And very loved when all the people made a point to come up to me and Mom and introduce themselves or just talk to us if they already knew us. ------- Chapter 8: Lunch We were ready to leave when the minister came over and cornered us. He remembered our names even though it had been almost four years since we'd attended church. He took Mom's hand in his. "I was sorry to hear about Wesley. Is he still in intensive care?" "No, he's actually home." "Oh, my. I heard he was in a coma." "He's still in a coma but his doctor thought he could sleep just as well in his own bed as in the hospital. He has a volunteer who comes over a couple of times a day to help him and the doctor stops by frequently." "I should make some time to stop by and see him." "I would be happy to see you Reverend, but I'm afraid Wesley won't know you're there." "The Lord works in mysterious ways, my dear Mrs. Bond. I'll give you a call in the next or two and arrange a time I can stop by." "That will be fine." "So, are you thinking about visiting us regularly?" "Not really. Leslie and I thought it would be a good idea to come by today." "Ah, yes. It's always a comfort to come to church in times of turmoil. Perhaps your husband can come with you next week." "I don't think that will happen. My husband and I are going through a divorce. He doesn't live with us any longer." "Oh, my. What about you, Leslie? Have you thought about coming back regularly?" "No, sir. I asked Mom if I could come today but I did what I came here to do." "Well, I want you to promise me you'll think about it." "I'll think about it but don't get your hopes up." "Just take a good hard look and ask the Lord for guidance." We got in the car and drove out of the parking lot. Mom patted me on the thigh. "That's why I hesitate about going to church in the first place. If I could come and go as I please without constantly being asked to come every week, I'd spend a lot more Sundays here. How would you like to stop and get something to eat?" "What? You mean go somewhere and eat there?" "Sure. Let's splurge. Any ideas?" This was quite a question. Going out to eat was not something we did every day. In fact, we didn't do it every month. Dad usually took us all out to a restaurant on Mother's Day. Grandma and Grandpa always wanted us to go out to dinner with them a couple of times when they came out on vacation. Mom usually talked them out of the second time, telling them not to waste their money. I know Dad took some people out to dinner once in a while for his work. And recently Wes had told me that he used some of his lawn money once in a while to get a snack at a new restaurant. "Well, Wes was talking about a new restaurant in the Safeway shopping center. They serve Mexican food. He said it's mostly food to go but they have a few tables." "OK. Well give it a try. Can your stomach handle it?" "I'm sure I can. We'll just talk to the guy and get something that's not spicy." We drove in the center near Safeway and started looking. I saw a sign that said La Bodega. "I think that's it." We went in and they had a menu on the wall with pictures of big plates full of food. Rice, beans, main dishes with sauce covering them. I didn't know if I'd be able to eat a full serving for dinner. Then I saw a list of things headed A La Carte. I asked him what the various things were. I'd heard of tacos and enchiladas. The burrito sounded good. He asked me if I was real hungry and I told him I was. Mom ordered some rolled tacos with some kind of avocado sauce on them. Mom's came and I could see she was disappointed. There were five things with a cup of green sauce, something like a dip you would use with Fritos or potato chips. The rolled tacos were like hand rolled cigarettes. Think of meat instead of tobacco. The paper you roll it in is a corn tortilla. I don't know how they do it but they grind up corn somehow and make these flat round things you can put food in. Almost the size of the lid you take off when you open a big can of coffee. Anyway, they roll the meat inside the tortilla, then fry it a bit so the tortilla gets crispy and stays rolled up. Mom got five of them and they were smaller than she thought they would be. I put my finger in the green dip and tasted it. Different, but pretty good. Well, my burrito was ready. I couldn't believe it. The thing was huge. It was like a big version of Mom's rolled tacos but with different stuff. My tortilla was made with flour instead of corn. It was softer and a lot bigger around. Inside I had some shredded beef, some Mexican beans (which are real good - nothing like pork and beans) and a lot of cheese. Anyway, it was almost a foot long, maybe 10". And the thing was probably three inches wide and two and a half inches tall. I walked over to the table holding my plate. "Mom, I don't think I can handle this." I held it out to her. She took one look and we both started laughing. I went over to the counter and got a fork and a knife. I also got a small cup and put some of the mild sauce in it. They had six or seven kinds from mild to extra hot. Most of them were red but two were green. The green ones were hot and extra hot. I cut into my burrito and tried some. Oh, boy. This was good. "Mom. How's yours?" She giggled and held one up between her thumb and index finger. "Not as satisfying as yours but it's good." "This burrito is real good. There's no way I can eat this whole thing. You want some?" "Sure. Here. Have one of these." I bit the end off the rolled taco. It was good but a lot blander than I thought it would be. I stuck the end in my mild sauce. It was different but I wasn't sure if I liked it. Mom told me to try her green stuff, so I did. That was good. I could probably sit down and eat 10 or 15 of those things if I had enough green sauce for them. The avocado sauce. Not the hot sauce. Excuse me. The salsa. I scooted my plate over and Mom cut off a couple of inches from the end and put it on her plate. I went over and got her a knife and fork and picked up a few napkins while I was there. The napkins were real small, maybe half as wide as the ones we used at home. Not square but a rectangle. They seemed more like Kleenex than napkins. We finished all the rolled tacos and all but about three inches of my burrito. The guy at the counter wrapped it in tin foil and I took it home for later. We drove home and went upstairs to check on Wes. Sam was kneeling on the floor next to the bed, holding his hand, talking to him. Poor Sam. She missed him so bad. She turned red and stammered something when she realized we were there. Mom jumped right in. "Don't you worry, Sam. We know he couldn't be in any better hands." She still looked a bit strange. "Hey, Sam. Have you had lunch?" "No. I was waiting for you to come back." "Oh, boy. I've got something for you to try." The three of us went downstairs and talked about how decadent mom and I were, blowing off the minister and going out and paying money for lunch. Sam loved the burrito. We'd always gotten along going to the Food Basket once a week and eating breakfast, lunch and dinner at home. But recently I heard of more and more places being built for people to run in, get served real quick, then be on their way. There had always been a McDonald's down on La Mesa Blvd. Recently they put one in down the hill in El Cajon. A few years ago I started hearing commercials on the radio for Jack in the Box. They served hamburgers and fries but they also made tacos. I heard they put dog food in the tacos from some of my friends. Just recently they'd opened up a new place call Taco Bell on University Ave. They were supposed to use real meat in their stuff. Wes had been there and told me their food was all right but if you wanted real Mexican food, La Bodega was the place to go. Sam thanked me for lunch and went back up to watch over Wes. Mom told me she hadn't been sleeping real well and felt better after our talk and going to church. She said she was going to go upstairs and take a nap. I told her she was getting real Mexican, first having rolled tacos and a burrito and now taking a siesta. It was 2:30 on Sunday and I was bored. Now I knew why Wes was so into bike riding. It would be great to jump on a bike and ride off on a beautiful day like today without a care in the world. Hopefully he'd be able to do that soon. I pulled a chair up next to our phone. It was on the wall in the kitchen, near the door. Easy to get to from the living room. I called Sandy. She was one of the older girls on the squad. She had volunteered to take us all to the drive in before the accident. Her parents let her drive their station wagon, a big Vista Cruiser. Her mom answered and I told her who I was. I heard her call out "Sandy, it's Les. Pick up the other phone." Boy. Two phones. Some people just threw money away. I'd heard they had a color TV and her parents had let her keep the old one in her room. It was bad enough hearing it from the living room. I couldn't imagine a TV in my room. Who cares about talking horses and talking cars? Sandy came on the phone. "OK, Mom. I've got it. You can hang up now." I heard a click. "Hello? Les?" "Hi Sandy." "Sorry about that. She'll listen in all day if I let her. What's up?" "I don't know. I'm kinda bored. I was wondering if my spot is still open." "I think so. A bunch of us have been wondering if you wanted to come back. Or even if you could. Are you well enough to do the routines?" "I don't think I can go all out. But I'm getting better all the time. If I can, I'd like to come and watch you guys so I can learn any new routines and be ready when my body is. I'll check with my doctor today or tomorrow and find out when he thinks I can do cheer." "Oh, boy. I'd sure like to check with your doctor." "Hey, watch it. That man's going to be my stepfather." "No way." "I'm not kidding. Mom's booted my Dad out of the house and she's filing for divorce. My doctor doesn't want to start anything till she's completely divorced." I was sorry as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I just knew everybody in town would know about it by the end of the afternoon. "Divorce. Wow. I've heard of that but I never knew of anyone that did it. Aren't you supposed to go to hell or something?" "That's only if you're Catholic. Look, Sandy, I need you to keep quiet about this. I don't want it getting all over town. Mom would probably kill me if she found out I'd told anyone." "Oh, don't worry, Les. You can trust me. Give me a call after you talk to your new father. I gotta go. Bye." I heard a click and then the buzz of the dial tone. ------- Chapter 9: Gossip I went over to the refrigerator to get some juice. I didn't have time to put it back before the phone rang for the first time. The calls got crazier over time. At first, Dad had walked out on all of us. Not real far from the truth, but not what I said. Mom had been beaten up. Mom and I had been beaten up. He beat up Mom, me and Sam and was hauled away in handcuffs. He took off with another woman, hid all his money so we couldn't get it and we were going to be out on the street. He caught Mom in bed with my doctor and walked out, leaving us with nothing. When Sam came over to tell me she heard that Mom had run away with someone I took the phone off the hook. Mom came downstairs, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. Great. She just went in for her nap 20 minutes ago. "Who keeps calling?" Sam looked at me. "Yeah, Les. Who keeps calling?" She was having too much fun with this. I told Mom about my call to Sandy and how she tricked me into telling her about Mom and Jeff. "I see. And just how did she know enough to trick you into talking about us?" "Well, I wanted to get back to cheering and she asked if I was OK and I told her I'd get my doctor to check me out. And she made this smart ass comment about wanting to check out my doctor and I couldn't let her get away with it so I told her to watch it cuz he's going to be my stepfather and then she tricked me into telling her." "Oh, Leslie. Now do you see why your brother was so upset that you were telling everyone about you and him?" "Yes, ma'am." "And you wipe that smile off your face, Samantha. You were just as bad as Leslie talking about the three of you." "Yes, ma'am." "So, Leslie, why is my phone off the hook?" "Mom, you don't know what it was like. It kept ringing and ringing." "I heard it ringing and ringing, Les. That's why I got out of bed and came downstairs. You dug yourself into this hole. Now you can dig yourself out of it." "What do you mean?" "You get to sit here next to the phone and answer every call that comes in. And you will thank each person and tell him you didn't know that. And when they ask you what the real story is you tell them that you have no idea and that maybe they should call Sandy because you heard that she's the one who started all of this." Mom reached over and turned the ringer to LOW, hung up the receiver, then kissed me on the top of the head. "Have a good afternoon, Leslie. I'm going back to finish my nap. Make sure to take messages if I get any calls." The phone started ringing before she was out of the kitchen and didn't stop all afternoon. I was a good girl and did exactly what Mom told me. Kind of like throwing a bloody piece of meat in the water to divert the sharks. I got a call from Sandy's mother, demanding to talk to Mom. I told her Mom wasn't available but I'd be happy to take a message. She was mad at me because of all the calls. Sandy had left as soon as the phone started ringing at her house. She also wanted to know the true story. I told her she should listen in when her daughter was on the phone if she wanted to know anything. She was mad at me when she hung up. I also got a call from our minister. I'm afraid I wasn't very cordial when I answered. He wanted to stop by on Tuesday to visit Wes. I told him I would give Mom the message but I wouldn't promise anything for her. He seemed disturbed that Mom might have something more important to do than wait around for him. By the time Mom came down at 5:30, the calls had dwindled down to one every 10 minutes of so. Neither she or I was real hungry so she made some tomato soup and put out a loaf of Dudley's and a plate with cold cuts and cheeses. Jaz showed up when the soup was on and I took him up to the bathroom and cleaned off what I could. That kid can get dirty standing on the front lawn. But he doesn't complain about baths, so it all works out. Mom says boys are half dirt anyway. I got up when the phone rang and sent the callers over to Sandy. I got calls every few days, then every week or two until well after school started. I always did exactly what Mom told me to do. Sandy stopped talking to me and never had any questions of me at cheer practice from that day on. I learned several important things from what happened that day. Some people will spread any juicy story, no matter who it hurts. The story will spread like wildfire. It really doesn't matter whether there is any truth in the story or not. I could use these principles to get people to believe anything I wanted them to, about me or anyone else. ------- Chapter 10: Incest With A Twist I was exhausted when I got to bed that night. By 9:00, I was sick of fielding questions about Mom, Dad and Jeff and diverting them over to Sandy. They'd slowed down quite a lot but it was still a real pain. I think what bothered me the most is that it was my own damned fault. Me and my big mouth. I woke up refreshed on Monday morning. I might as well face the music. I wanted to get back into cheer leading and it was time to make an appearance. If any of the girls wanted the dirt, I'd send them right over to Sandy. I wanted to see the look on her face when I asked her how the word got out on what I'd told her in confidence. I called Darcy and asked if there was a practice today. They were going to meet at the school at 11:00. She told me she and her brother would be by to pick me up around 10:30. A little early for a ten minute drive, but it would be good to spend some time with Darcy and Bill. They were still going strong. He would leave for Viet Nam in a week or so and she was doing everything she could to get pregnant. He was getting the time honored gift to soldiers going off to battle from the girl back home. Time after time after time. Jaz was at the breakfast table, finishing up his Trix. Actually, finishing up the leftover milk in his bowl. Some of it dribbled down his face as he lifted the bowl to his mouth. He gave me a milky kiss on my cheek, then ran out to play with Billy, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand on the way out the door. Did I ever have that much energy? Mom came into the kitchen and turned on the percolator. The bubbling sound was familiar. I always associated it with good times. I got a glass of orange juice. Mom asked if I would like ham and eggs. There was a good sized piece of ham wrapped in Saran Wrap in the refrigerator. She lopped off a couple of thick pieces and put them in a frying pan as she melted butter for the eggs in another. "I have raisin bread from Dudley's. How about some raisin toast?" "Ooh, that sounds good." "OK. You handle the toast and I'll get the rest." There's nothing like a kitchen filled with the smells of breakfast. Somehow they all meld together yet stay distinct. Coffee brewing, ham, the butter with the more delicate smell of eggs cooking, the slightly sweet smell of the raisins as the toaster does its work. I smiled at the sounds of the hot water going through its final bubbling as the percolator sent that last tablespoon into the coffee grounds, the eggs spattering a couple of inches up above the pan and the toast popping up to signal its completion. The sounds of home, of family. I put the toast on plates, making sure the butter was on the table. Always butter, never jam or jelly with raisin toast. If it's not a law, it should be. Mom got the eggs, sliced them down the middle and proceeded to serve us both with a spatula. How she was able to get them out and onto our plates without breaking the yolks was one of life's miracles. It must be a Mom thing. The ham got speared with a fork. She held my piece just above my plate, waiting for me to use my fork to hold it down so she could pull hers out. A time honored tradition in our family, something we all knew to do without being asked. Her last actions were to pour herself a cup of coffee and get the pitcher of orange juice from the fridge and put it on the table. She had just sat down when the doorbell rang. I told her to stay and went to answer it. It was Nancy, coming by the check on my brother. I told her to come into the kitchen. "Would you like something to eat, Nancy?" "No thank you, Mrs. Bond." "OK. Sit down and have some orange juice." She didn't want to impose but Mom's stern look changed her mind. She sat right at the edge of the bench, next to me. Almost as if she was afraid she'd soil it. She drank her orange juice and we talked for a minute or so. "I have to hurry. Jeff... I mean Dr Bradley is picking me up for a meeting at the hospital." "You aren't trying to steal my man, are you Nancy?" "Oh, Mrs Bond. I'd never do anything like that!" Mom looked over at me and we both laughed. Nancy turned beet red. She was on the way upstairs when Sam came through the kitchen door. Good old Sam. Good thing we weren't paying her by the hour or she'd break us. She took a glass of juice but went upstairs with it. I heard some raised voices shortly after she got up there. I guess Nancy was trying to exert her authority and Sam was fighting her on it. Mom washed and I dried. She looked real good today. I know I felt good about our talk. I guess it did her a lot of good, too. I took a nice long shower and put on some tight shorts and a pink T-shirt with some rhinestones on it. Full of good food, clean and looking sharp. I felt as good as I had in weeks. Mom's doctor must have shown up while I was in the shower. They were sitting at the table when I went into the kitchen. He smiled at me. "Looking good, Half Pint." He was the only man I knew who could make me blush. Darcy rang the front doorbell a minute later. We went out to the car and she slid over next to Bill, leaving most of the passenger seat for me. Bill told me I looked good, too. We chatted on the way over to the school. Darcy told me she'd gotten five calls from girls on the squad about my parents and Jeff. The stories were all different and got worse and farther from the truth as the day wore on. Sandy was the first one to call and Darcy didn't know enough to say much. As the other calls came in, she chewed some butt, telling them she was pretty disgusted that they were spreading lies. She fully expected to get some shit from some of the girls today. And she was going to give some to Sandy when she saw her. Bill didn't say anything but I could see he wasn't too thrilled with the callers by the grim look on his face. We made our way onto the field. I was swamped by the other girls, all wanting to know the true story. I take that back. They all wanted some dirt. They could give a shit about the truth. Sandy was doing her best to stay away without seeming to. She was also avoiding my eyes. I kept quiet, then made like I was going to talk. They all got quiet. "I don't know. What do you think, Sandy?" "Huh?" "I said what do you think? I told someone I thought was a friend something very personal yesterday. She swore that she wouldn't tell anyone. And my phone started ringing two minutes later and didn't stop all day. So what do you think, Bitch?" Sandy didn't like being caught. And she definitely didn't like being shown for what she was in front of her friends. "My parents are getting a divorce. They've both found other people. My mother happens to have found someone who is ten times the man my father is, and I'm sure they will be very happy. My father has found someone who makes him happy. Now, I'm sure that all of you can hardly wait to tell everyone you know about it. And a lot of you, like Bitch over there will make it ten times worse than it is so you can feel important. So, have at it. I already know how most of you are between your phone calls and the way you all ganged up on me as soon as I got here to see if there was any dirt. "Just in case any of you are interested, I'm doing very well, thank you. Of course, that's nothing you can gossip about so I'm sure none of you are. Now I'm going to go over there and sit with Darcy's brother until she's ready to leave. Because I'm not interested in associating with people who don't have any more respect for others than you do." I started to walk off when Darcy called to me. "Hang on, Les. I don't want hang out with these guys anymore, either. I'll drop off my uniform later in the week." Just like that, the squad had three less people. Me and Darcy plus Sam. I was the only reason she went out for cheer and now she had Wes to keep her busy. Bill was standing up, a big grin on his face when we got back to him in the stands. "That was great. You know you two are going to be pariahs from now on, don't you?" Darcy grabbed his arm. "I know. But it was worth it. Damn, Les. I couldn't believe the look on Sandy's face when you took her out in front of everyone. And the way the rest of them looked guilty when you told them off was great. They were all perking up when you told them about your parents. But when you started accusing them of turning it into dirt, their looks were priceless." "Yeah, but you know as soon as we leave they'll start in on us." "Of course. As soon as we can't defend ourselves." We headed over to the parking lot. For some reason, it seemed right for me to hold Bill's hand while Darcy held the other. She looked around him at me and smiled. Neither of us wanted to go home so we just took off. We headed out the back way and made our way down Main St into El Cajon. Before we knew it, we were in the outskirts on Jamacha Rd. We found a park with lots of grass, trees and privacy. Ours was the only car in the lot. Again, we went as three, Bill holding on to both our hands. We walked with no destination in mind, checking out the sights, feeling the warm sun on our faces. We finally came upon a spot that had a huge pepper tree, soft grass, and overlooked a reservoir. There was a cool breeze coming up from the water. I don't think anyone planned on anything happening. And I think we were all kind of surprised that it did, but none of us knew exactly how to stop it. Darcy and I were lying on either side of Bill. I still had his hand in mine, both of them on my stomach. I pushed the palm into my stomach. He started moving it in small circles. It felt good and I let out a sigh. I looked over to see Darcy looking at us and smiling. His other hand was moving on her stomach as well. The circles on her got larger and he was sweeping over the tops of her legs when he dropped down. I didn't think about it, I just used pulled his hand down lower by the fingertips. I moved it in a larger circle, the lower part on the juncture of my legs. I sucked in my breath between my teeth. He was the only man to touch me there other than Wes. The top of the circle got higher and he was hitting the bottoms of my breasts. That felt wonderful, as well. The hand on Darcy had stopped circling, the palm below her stomach, the fingers searching between her legs. She had her eyes closed, her bottom lip between her teeth. Bill's eyes were closed too, as he lay there, enjoying the sensations. Darcy's hand reached over and lay her hand on his thigh, inching closer to his cock. My tongue came out and licked my lips, seemingly of its own volition. I moved my hand over to mirror Darcy's. She laid her palm on top of him and I covered it. All three of us said "Uhhm" simultaneously. Darcy and I chuckled at that. She kind of flipped her hand and I moved off her and back to Bill's thigh. Her fingers started tugging on the buttons on his Levis. I could see she was having difficulty working with one hand so I pitched in and helped. We were all breathing faster now, especially Bill. We got his fly open and teamed up to pull his pants down below his butt. The boxers followed. His cock was just like Wes's. And completely different. I don't think it was quite as long but it seemed thicker. He evidently hadn't been circumcised. There was some extra skin partially covering the head that I wasn't used to. Darcy was lightly touching it. I reached back up, first touching her hand, then exploring it on my own, feeling the veins under my fingertips. I felt Bill's hand push under my waistband as he went in search of my treasures. I sucked in my stomach to make room for him. Darcy was sighing and moaning on occasion, signaling her pleasure. I felt the fingers exploring the hair between my legs, then dropping down further. I jumped a little at the electric shock as he flicked my clitoris with his fingertip. A finger insinuated itself into my slit, opening me up, releasing some of the moisture I was producing. The wet finger moved up a bit, massaging my clitoris lightly. My legs closed tightly and it took a conscious effort to spread them so he could continue. I felt a finger invading my hole. I let go of his cock and used both hands to push my shorts and panties down to my thighs. That exposed me and hid me at the same time. The shorts were too tight for me to open my legs. I pushed them further down and eased my left leg out, leaving them around the right. I moved over on my side and went back to his cock. Darcy saw what was happening and let go, taking her shorts off. She had her cheerleader's uniform on. There was something slutty about this girl in a cheerleader's uniform with her bottom bared. Bill's cock was standing at attention. And leaking. The crown was almost as wet as I felt. Darcy leaned over and licked the side nearest her from bottom to top. She looked over at me and smiled. Her eyes seemed to say "Go ahead." I went ahead. I leaned over and licked up the other side. Bill took the opportunity to remove his hand from between my legs and check out my ass. He cupped the cheeks one at a time, then explored the crack, taking a little extra time at my asshole with his middle finger. He pushed in a bit but didn't insert it. Darcy and I took turns taking him in our mouths. At first we just worked on the head. Then she did something that surprised the hell out of me. She put her hands on the ground on either side of his hips and lowered her head further and further until the whole thing was in her mouth. All six inches or so was gone. I knew from experience that the most I could fit inside me before I started to choke was a little over three inches. I always wrapped my hand around the lower part with Wes so he couldn't push any further into me. Not that he would want to hurt me, but I knew very well how the body can take over when you're excited enough. What amazed me is she didn't choke, gag, cough or anything. She just lowered her head, slowly, smoothly, taking more and more cock until it was gone. I could see her throat moving as she held it inside. In fact, I could see where it was as her throat bulged from the foreign object lodged there. She stayed that way, working it with her throat for about 30 seconds. Then she eased off. I could see the cheeks hollow as she moved up. There was a loud smack as her mouth released it to bounce freely, shiny with her spit. Bill liked it all. His butt looked like he was trying to grind it into the grass as she worked on him. He made some sounds that weren't from any language I was familiar with. Darcy reached up and wiped some leftover saliva off her mouth. Our faces were about six inches apart. Her eyes were bright and there was a smile that couldn't be wiped off on her face. Neither of us said anything. We just moved closer and closer until our lips touched. Her tongue was tentative as it licked my lip. I teased it with my own and then she searched my mouth. We ended the kiss and both backed off a bit. Her eyes were lidded, her lips seemed a little inflamed. She had a look of lust about her. I could see Bill out of the corner of my eye. He had a surprised look on his face, but he was definitely turned on. Darcy pulled back and got up on her knees. She swung her leg over Bill and lifted her skirt out of the way, sliding down on his cock. I held it up to guide it into her. The two of them sighed as she once again took his complete cock in her body. She stayed down, moving her body in a small circle. "Bill, do her with your mouth." He mumbled something. I took it to be an invitation or a thank you. I assumed the position, my cunt over his mouth, my ass pointed towards his eyes. That put Darcy and me face to face, a foot and a half apart. She reached up and ran her hands up my stomach and onto my tits, underneath my T-shirt. I reached down and took the hem in my fingers, lifting it up and off. Darcy moved forward a bit and licked each nipple. Just enough to excite me. Our bodies just weren't built for her to lick my tits while we were attached to him at both ends. Bill's tongue was very talented. Again, not Wes but not bad. Different. He also held my ass in his hands and would occasionally swipe his tongue up far enough to tease my little starfish. That was a new experience. I liked Wes sticking his cock in there, Bill's tongue was great, too. Darcy was huffing and puffing as she moved up and down, driving him all the way into her, grinding down on him when they met. Bill was moaning almost constantly, the vibrations doing things to my sex. I leaned forward, putting one hand on the ground and working the other under Dacy's blouse to get to her tits. I had to settle for feeling them through her bra. I could tell that the nipples were extended. Moving forward also put my sensitive clit into the action and gave Bill access so he could insert first one, then two fingers inside me. The tongue working on my clitoris and the fingers moving in and out of my cunt started to work. Darcy was going faster and faster. Her eyes were completely closed now and she was panting hard as she rode her brother. I saw his hips lift off the ground as he pushed as far as he could into Darcy. She seemed to bring her legs together against his thighs as she pushed in. He started to spurt into her and thrust his fingers in and out of me to match the jolts of his cock. She yelped as soon as he started to come. He made a noise that hit my clit just right and pushed his fingers in and held them, sending me on a skyrocket to heaven. I pulled my hand out from underneath Darcy's blouse and bit down on my fingers to keep from yelling out loud. We all settled down after a couple of minutes. I lifted off Bill and put my pants back on, then found my shirt lying over next to the tree where it landed when I tore it off. Darcy then did something very strange. She got up, holding her hand over her vagina. I figured she didn't want to drip on her brother. But then she made her way over to the tree, still holding onto herself. She lay down on her back and lifted her legs, leaning them against the tree. I looked at her. She must have been able to tell I was wondering what the hell she was doing. "I'm trying to get pregnant. This gives the little guys a better chance of getting to the egg." Bill added, "We want to have a baby in case I don't..." "We want to have a baby. Period." Kids were arriving home from Viet Nam in boxes every day. I saw it on the news. The cities and towns mentioned were always back east or in Texas. Somewhere far away from La Mesa. They were planning for the possibility that Bill might not make it. I felt a shiver go up my spine. I guess the magic time was up. Darcy rolled over and dropped her legs. She then got up and squatted, steadying herself with one hand on the pepper tree. I saw the white liquid make its way out of her. "What does that do?" "It keeps it from leaking in my panties." She must have been satisfied. She picked up her panties and used them to wipe my juices off her brother's mouth, then put them on. We moved back to our original positions, Bill in the middle of us, holding hands. We all fell asleep with the sun on our faces and the cool breeze wafting over us. ------- Chapter 11: An Old Friend After that afternoon with Darcy and Bill, I went from being with someone all the time to not really having anyone to pal around with. Sam was staying away from me. She wasn't mean or anything, but she made it clear our days of being best friends were over with without saying anything. All her spare time was spent in the room next to mine, watching over my brother. Darcy was spending all of her time with her brother. After he shipped off to boot camp, I knew she'd want to be with other seniors. I really didn't expect her to spend a lot of time with a freshman. And the cheer squad as a whole had decided I was persona non grata. Anyone who would come down on them for spreading rumors wasn't welcome in their little world. Which was fine with me. My brother was certainly no company. I found myself sitting next to him, holding his hand and talking to him a few times. I don't know that he knew I was there but I felt good about it. He's the only one I told about Darcy and Bill. Mom was still around but her attention was on Jeff. Though they wouldn't get married until Mom and Dad's divorce was final sometime in October, they spent a lot of time together. He always said he was checking up on Wes, but nobody really bought it. You don't need to spend an hour drinking a cup of coffee and staring into somebody's eyes to check on their son who's upstairs in a coma. Jaz was around to sleep and eat and not much else. Joey had occasionally played games and hung out when Wes and Sam were around but those days were long gone. Besides, he was busy with Vickie. Since she was on the squad, she and I weren't talking to each other. One person I did spend some time with was Mr. Johnson. I was walking home from the store one afternoon when I passed by a house a couple of blocks away from us. There was an old man watering the front lawn with a hose. He looked up and smiled as I came up on the yard. "You're the Bond girl, aren't you?" "Uh, yes Sir." "I beg your pardon, Miss. We've never been introduced. My name is Donald Johnson. I visited you and your brother when you were recovering from your surgeries." "I think I may have heard Sam talk about you." "Ah, yes. Samantha. I owe that little girl a lot. Tell me, Miss Bond, could you spare a few minutes to talk to an old man?" He looked harmless and he did seem to know me. Sam had met him in the hospital. Something to do with his wife, I think. "I would be happy to, Mr. Johnson. My name is Leslie, by the way. Or Les." "Leslie. I think I like that better. Such a strong name. Befitting someone of character." "Well then, maybe you should call me Les." "Nonsense. Someone who would give up a kidney for her brother definitely has character. Why don't we sit on the porch? I do believe I have some fresh lemonade in the refrigerator." "Oh, please don't go to any trouble for me." "Please. I rarely have guests. It's been a long time since I've had an attractive woman come calling on me." I wasn't too sure about that "attractive woman" thing, but he was pretty old and looked harmless. And we would be on the front porch. He went over near the house and turned off the hose. He had one of those roller things attached to the side of the house and he took care to get the hose wound up perfectly. I was still standing at the edge of the lawn, trying to figure out what to do with my hands. "Please. Sit down and relax." He swept his arm down, his hand upside down, pointing at the porch at the end of the motion. I walked up the two wooden steps and sat in the swing. It was wide enough for two adults or three kids. Obviously years old, it had been well taken care of. It was made of wood but had cushions for both sitting and a person's back. There was a little sound of air coming out of the cushions as I sat down. Very comfortable. I could probably spend hours on this while I'd be uncomfortable on the unprotected wood. Once he could tell I was seated, he smiled and said, "I'll be right back." He disappeared into the house and was gone for a few minutes. I heard a spoon stirring something in a glass pitcher somewhere in the house. He came outside carrying a tray with a glass pitcher of lemonade with slices of lemon floating in it. There were a couple of glasses that almost looked like crystal filled with ice and a plate with some chocolate chip cookies on it. "I'm sorry, the cookies are store bought. I don't bake much anymore." He put the tray down on a small table up against the house. I got up and walked over to him. "Please allow me to pour. You just made this, didn't you?" He smiled and nodded, then sat down on a chair next to the table. I poured us each a glass of lemonade and gave him one. His chair was also made of wood with cushions on it. The arms were planks about four or five inches wide. He rested his glass on one while holding it. I took a couple of cookies and put them on one of the small paper plates he'd brought out and handed him the plate with a napkin under it. I put a couple of cookies on a plate, took a napkin and picked up everything. The mate to the chair he was sitting on was next to him and I sat down in it. "So, Miss Leslie, the last time I saw you your mother said you'd spent some time in the sun and were worn out. I think it was your first time out of the house since you got out out of the hospital. How are you feeling these days?" "I feel good. I didn't realize I would be as weak after the operation as I was but I've been fine for the last week or so. I was planning on being a cheerleader and I wouldn't be able to do some of the cheers yet, but I decided not to be on the squad." "Because of your operation?" "Oh, no. They were holding my place for me. I made the mistake of telling one of them something I didn't want spread around and the next thing I knew people were calling the house to find out if it was true. And when I went to practice the next day, all the girls wanted the newest gossip. They didn't even ask how I was feeling first." "That's a shame. Unfortunately, some people who might be decent by themselves lose sense of that when they get into a group and feel they have to act that way to belong." "Well, I don't want to belong to a group like that." "You see? I told you 'Leslie' is a name of character." "Well, sometimes having character gets lonely." "Oh, I know. That's one of its downfalls, all right. But I'd rather not have a bunch of people around me that I don't really want and be able to sleep at night." "I hadn't thought of it that way. It felt good to tell them off." "I'm sure it did. And I bet none of them understood what you were saying, did they?" "No, I don't think they did. Or if they did, they were afraid of not fitting in the group anymore." "Unfortunately, that's the way people are. Hopefully someday, some of them will understand and change for the better." "Maybe. I don't know if I'd want to be friends with any of them after the way they acted." "I understand how you feel but there's one thing I've learned in my 84 years. Don't burn all your bridges. If one of those girls comes to you and honestly apologizes and wants to make it up to you, don't shun her. The Christian thing to do is to forgive her. You can never have too many friends. And it takes courage to admit your mistakes, especially if you have to buck the crowd to do so." "I suppose you're right. I feel like just telling them to go... well, I don't feel like letting any of them apologize." He laughed, a deep, rich laugh. "Believe me, I know how you feel. I made the same mistake when I was young. Fortunately, I had my Marie to steer me straight. She said to me 'Donald! I don't want to be married to a bitter, lonely old man. Now you get over there and tell that man you forgive him.' That was one of the best pieces of advice I ever got." "Tell me about Marie. I just know she was in the hospital while I was there." "Yes, she was. I said goodbye to my Marie in that hospital." "I'm sorry." "There's no need to be sorry. We had almost 65 years together. That's more than many people even live." "She must have been something. I hear you met her in World War I." "Oh, she was something, all right. She was such a tiny little thing. I was over in France where she grew up in the war, but I met her fifteen years before that when I was a student. Back at the turn of the century. I went over to Paris to study art. I had this idea I was going to be a great artist. I spotted her painting in the Louvre." "I thought they had all old paintings in there." He laughed his deep laugh again. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to make fun of you. Students go to the Louvre and make copies of some of the old masters in order to learn. Marie was in front of a Da Vinci. At first it was her painting that attracted me. She was very good. She caught the spirit of the painting in her copy. That's something that's very hard to do. "I started talking to her about her technique. She spoke a little English and we were able to communicate. By the time we'd finished talking about her painting, I'd invited her out for tea. We were engaged within a month and married a month later. She's the only woman I was ever with." "And you stayed with her for 65 years." "Not quite. It would have been 65 years this November. But she got the cancer. And she almost shriveled away. And I wouldn't let her go like a selfish old man. It was your friend Samantha who got me to see how wrong it was to hold on to her when it was her time to go. Because of her, Marie and I got to say goodbye to each other and she had some peace. She was in so much pain for so long. When I realized it was because of me she was enduring it, I let her go. She was so relieved just before she left me. She was able to hold onto my hand firmly and tell me it was going to be all right. Before, she'd been using all her energy to fight the pain. She was gone later that evening." "I'm glad you were OK with her dying." "So am I. One of the things that helped me through it was being able to talk with your mother and Samantha and all of your friends every evening at the hospital. They became kind of a new family for me. Just before Marie passed on she talked to Samantha and asked her to look after me. She calls me once in a while to check up on me. By the way, most of the girls who were in the waiting room were there for you. And they were all on the cheer team if I recall. So don't be so quick to close the door on them. They didn't need to support your mother and Samantha and wait while you and your brother were in surgery and intensive care. They were there every evening." "Mom told me that. And most of them visited me in the hospital and at home. I guess they were pretty good to me. They spent a lot of their summer just sitting around with me when they could have been out having fun." "See? Maybe you shouldn't write them all off. I bet some of them are sorry about the way they treated you. Give them a little time. I'll bet some of them will come up to you when the others aren't around and tell you how sorry they are." "OK. After talking to you, I'll listen. Before I would have told them to get lost." "That's my girl. You make me proud. Now I have to send you on your way. I have a hot date tonight." "Really?" "Yes, indeed. With two of the nicest women you'd ever want to meet." "You mean Mrs. Crowley and her sister?" "That's right. Edith and Elizabeth. Another two fine names. I'm going over to their house for dinner." "Good for you, Mr. Johnson. Can I stop by and talk to you again?" "I'd be hurt if you didn't. Any time. Don't wait until you see me out front. Just ring the doorbell. But give me a minute or two. I'm not as fast on my feet as I used to be." "You seem pretty fast to me." "You're too kind." "Mr. Johnson? Can I ask you a favor?" "Anything, my dear." "Could I kiss you? On the cheek?" He smiled and stood up, holding his arms out to me. I got up and hugged this man I hadn't known two hours before as if my life depended on it. I kissed him on the cheek and we backed off from each other. "Thanks, Mr. Johnson. I needed that." "Me, too, Leslie. Me, too." ------- Chapter 12: One For The Team A couple of days later, the doorbell rang. When I opened the front door, Vicky was standing there. "Joey isn't here, Vicky." "I just left him. I stopped by to see you. Can I come in?" "Sure. I guess so." I pushed the door open and led her into the kitchen. "Do you want a Coke?" "Yes please. That would be good." I pulled a couple of bottles out of the refrigerator and used the opener under the cupboard to open them. "Here you are." "Thanks." We sat down at the table. She looked down at her hands as she nervously twisted the bottle in her hand. She finally took a drink, as if it was a whiskey bottle and she needed some courage. "Les, I came over here to apologize." "Oh?" "Yeah. I should have said something the other day. I was afraid of what the other girls were going to say. I should have thought about what I'd feel like if I was treated that way. I didn't spread any rumors but I should have told them off like Darcy did. I just want to tell you I'm sorry and I hope we can be friends." She looked at me nervously, waiting for my answer. I thought about what Mr. Johnson would say. "I'd like that." Her face lit up as I said it. "Oh, great. Thank you. Look, I'm going to quit the team and tell them what I think about them." "You don't have to do that for me, Vick." "I want to. I'm tired of the politics. I don't fit in with them very well since I'm only going to be a sophomore." "I know what you mean. Sam and I didn't get real close with anyone because we're just freshmen. Darcy's the only one who had anything to do with us. And that only started because she heard about my brother and me." "They've talked about both of you behind your backs since they found out. And now that you guys told them off, they refer to both of you as 'brother fuckers.' I'll be glad to get away from them." "I don't miss them at all. It would have been nice to cheer at the games, but I'm fine without the squad." "Well, maybe we can find something else to do. Cheer can't be the only thing that's fun in high school." "That would be good." The time went by. Vicky wasn't a constant companion like Sam had been, but we got together a few times and went to the mall or a movie. Joey didn't want to see The Sound of Music so we went to that. Both of us cried and cheered. Three weeks before school started, Joey decided he wanted to see other girls as well as Vicky. She told him she wasn't into that and if he didn't want to commit, he could go ahead and see the others and forget about her. I think she was surprised when he took her up on it. We spent many an hour watching her crying, wondering what she did wrong. Like I was the expert in relationships. One good thing came out of it as far as I was concerned. I had someone to go see Dr. Zhivago with. Vicky and Joey had been planning to see it for months before it came out, but he took some kid who was still in junior high. I thought we cried in Sound of Music. This was ten times as bad. I had to console her again about Joey when it was over. Bill left for Viet Nam about a week and a half after our time together. Darcy was sure she was pregnant because her period was due four days before he left. As far as I know, I was the only person they trusted enough to tell. Darcy wanted to tell the world but that would cause big problems. So, good old Leslie got to be the recipient of the news that nobody was supposed to know. It turned out that Darcy was correct. She found out in the first week of school that it was definite when she went to a clinic called Planned Parenthood. They had some crazy idea that she didn't want the baby and she had to work hard to convince them to let her go. All that work to get pregnant and they wanted to "terminate" it. Sam was still spending all her free time with Wes. He was the same, lying in bed, breathing regularly. That's about all he did. He had a tube with a bottle to pee in and wore diapers. He was still fed by the IV. Nancy stopped coming after a while because Sam took over all of her chores. Nancy was glad not to have to come over to our house every day because she was setting up projects for the candy stripers at the hospital. Jeff was over most days and checked Wes, dropped off IV bottles and more diapers and made googoo eyes at Mom. Sam fed, bathed and changed Wes' diapers and pee bottle as if he was her patient. She changed his bandages until they weren't needed anymore. She also sat by his side for hours, reading out loud or telling him what was going on. It was pretty easy to see the girl had it bad. I hoped she wouldn't be disappointed and that he'd recover. I made it a point to stop over at Mr. Johnson's at least once a week. A few times he wasn't home and I discovered he was over visiting the two widow ladies, Edith and Elizabeth. He was proud of me when I told him that Vicky and I had made friends. "I want to find something other than regular classes to do. I'd thought cheer leading would be good, but you know what happened there." "What do you like to do?" "I don't know. I like people. I like finding out about them. Everybody has an interesting story. Like you and Marie. I enjoyed finding out about the two of you." "Do you like to write?" "It's OK. I don't know how good I am." "Well, I suggest one of two things. You can either try to get on the school newspaper or you can get on the yearbook committee." "What's the yearbook committee?" "It's the people who get all the information for the yearbook. They have to talk to the students and find out what they're doing in the various clubs, on their teams, things like that. The committee needs to get pictures of the various functions. Sometimes the person who does the interviews does it, sometimes it's two different people." "That sounds like fun." "I suggest you go to the school as soon as you can and find out what you'll need to do. It might be too late if you wait until school actually starts." "I can do that. Maybe Vicky will be interested, too." "Maybe she will." It turned out Vicky was interested in doing the photography. She had taken a course in summer school and found that she liked it. Her teacher told her she showed a lot of promise. We went to school and saw the Vice-Principal. He sent us in to see our guidance counselor and he sent us to see the faculty supervisor of the yearbook committee. When we talked to him, he acted as if we were a gift from heaven. Evidently there was some idea that the people who put the yearbook together were squares. He made sure we knew what we'd be doing and made us promise that we'd put in the hours we needed in order to get the project ready to go to the printer. We both agreed it sounded like fun. Since the yearbook took time to get assembled and printed, we would only be needed for a semester. We were told to think about what we wanted to do for the second semester and get with our counselor before Thanksgiving vacation. I got a letter about a week before school started with a list of the classes I had been assigned. Yearbook was down as my last period course. I couldn't tell if I had male or female teachers because there were only last names in the teacher column. As a freshman, I was required to go to a half day orientation the Friday before Labor Day. School started the Tuesday after. Orientation took four hours and should have probably only taken one. I couldn't believe some of the dumb questions that were asked. Like it was a surprise there was going to be homework or that we'd get report cards with grades on them. I went with Vicky. We saw Joey and Sam but he pretended he didn't see us and avoided us. That shook up Vicky even though they'd been apart for three weeks. We got our lockers and combinations. The dumb question about that was "Are we supposed to remember the combination?" Those of us with five dollars got to stand in line and get a student activity card. There were five lines with letters, like A through E. The girl in front of me said her name was Elizabeth Summers and was disturbed when the woman told her she'd have to go stand in the M through S line. While I was waiting, I saw a guy in the next line arguing that he should get his card and he'd pay the $5 later. It didn't work. I had to get up at 6:30 on Tuesday so I could be at school by 8:00. Vicky lived a couple of blocks over, so we took different routes. Sam didn't say anything about wanting to walk with me so I didn't push it. So, I got to walk to school by myself. I was surprised with the amount of homework I got the first day. I had to read a chapter of The Grapes of Wrath for English, another one on the Crusades for World History and do a page of math problems. Plus I had a week to memorize the periodic table of the elements for Chemistry. Before that morning, I didn't even realize there was a periodic table of elements. I also got my assignment for Yearbook. I was in charge of interviewing the Varsity, JV and Frosh football teams as well as Track, Cross Country and Tennis. I was to talk to each coach to find out about the team and get anywhere from two to five team members to talk to in detail. And each coach would set up a team question and answer period with the whole team team so I could get their opinions about the team. I had a month to get all the interviews done and typed up. And then I'd get my next assignment. A month sounds like a long time. But I had 21 team members, six teams and five coaches to interview. I lucked out because Coach Wilson took care of both Track and Cross Country. So, that's 32 interviews in 20 school days and I had to type them all up with two fingers. I'd wanted something to keep me busy and this was it. Vicky got to take pictures of the people I interviewed, so she was in and out. Of course, she also had to go to some games and meets so she could get shots of the action. How tough is that? Standing on the sidelines at the football game, taking pictures of the guys in their uniforms? I lucked out and got all the coaches done on Wednesday and Thursday. Friday I talked to the tennis team and met with Jim Williams, the top senior and the two guys on the highest ranked doubles team. I was asked out by Jim and accepted. We'd be going to the football game in a week. He said he didn't mind that I was a freshman. And he was a real nice guy, as well as being a hunk. Vicky and I got a ride to that night's game from her dad. She was down on the sidelines taking pictures, so I found a group of girls I knew from junior high and sat with them. I got a couple of dirty looks from cheerleaders and I'm sure I was the one Sandy was whispering about to Roberta because of the way she glanced over at me while while talking into her ear. Somehow I didn't think Sandy and I would ever be friends. She was graduating this year, anyway. I wondered who would inherit her crown as the chief gossiper and spreader of bad news. It looked like Roberta was in the running. The game was pretty good. Our guys played well and won by nine points. Thomas Pitcairn, one of the guys I was supposed to interview, ran for a touchdown. I spent over three hours over the weekend trying to memorize that stupid chart of elements for the test on Monday. Why did I even take chemistry? It's not like I was going to build bombs or invent the next miracle drug in my garage. My English assignment was to read chapter five of Grapes of Wrath but I got interested in the book and finished it off. One less thing I had to worry about next week. I felt sorry for Lenny. He couldn't help himself. Monday came and I felt pretty good about myself. I raised my hand several times in English, answering questions about the book. My teacher complimented me on my insight. The Chem test was just ten questions. There were a couple where he gave the symbol and we were supposed to give the name of the element, a couple more with the name, asking for the symbol. The rest were about atomic weight, number of electrons and protons and one asked what elements were on either side of another on the chart. There was one question that made me apply what I'd read: "What elements in what combination make up CO2?" It was as if the chart was opened up in front of my face. For every question, I saw that part of the table in my mind. I was done with the ten questions in about three minutes and had to sit around while the other students worked on the test for the rest of the period. When my teacher came up to me to see why I wasn't doing the test, he acted shocked when I gave him the paper. He even looked it over and put an A+ on it and handed it back. Sixth period came and it was time for Yearbook. I wouldn't be able to talk to the football players for a couple of hours. They were practicing and I knew the coach wouldn't let me interrupt any of them. My appointment was set for 4:30. I looked at who I had left to talk to and decided to take a chance on the track team. I had no idea what they did to practice track, but I figured the guys might run an event and then take a breather. If that was the case, maybe I could corner my two track guys and get my interview. I went out to the practice field and found that they did a couple of events but they also ran around the track for a couple of miles and worked out with weights. The goal was to condition them so they had the endurance and strength to run their shorter races. If a guy could run two miles at full speed, he could certainly do a 440. At least that was the theory. And one of the guys I talked to told me he was doing his event in 5/6 the time he did before the training. I stood next to each of them while they were working with the weights and even spotted for one of them while he did bench presses. I had a small tape recorder I used so I didn't have to take notes and had both hands free. I even lucked out and the coach let me have five minutes with the whole team. Around 4:20, I was waiting at the entrance to the football locker room. Coach invited me in after the team arrived and announced to them that I was going to ask the team some questions and do a special interview with a few of the players. He named them off, one by one. "Yeah, I'll give her a special interview. Right there on that bench." "OK, Wilson. That's enough of that. You guys represent the school. Remember that." With that, Coach disappeared. I was a little surprised, I figured he'd want to be there. Maybe he felt they could talk more openly if he was gone. The tape recorder was in my book bag and I turned it on. I started asking some generic questions. How did they feel they were going to do in the season? What were their weak points? Strong points? That last one was the one that did it. Wilson pulled down his shorts and his jock strap and pointed a boner right at me. "I'll show you my strong point, Honey." I looked over at him and licked my lips. "Very impressive, Wilson." "Well, Babe, from what I hear, you'd know. This girl likes it hard and often, guys. I heard she even likes it up the butt." There was no way he'd know that last part from talking to the cheer squad based on what I'd told them. There were only two other people who knew I did that and one of them was in a coma. Sam had to have told someone. Damn her! I glanced around and saw some looks on faces that I didn't like. One by one, football players were pulling down their shorts and jocks, exposing themselves to me. The exit was a good fifteen feet away and there was no way I was going to reach it if they didn't want me to. The team had formed a loose circle around me. I was reminded of a show on Disney about wolves. They surrounded their prey like this. "Come on, honey. You know you want it." "Yeah, Sweetheart. Why don't you come over here and suck on my love muscle?" "I get dibs on that sweet ass." "I want sloppy seconds. I want to make sure she's nice and juicy." I reached in my book bag and grabbed on to my chemistry book. The sucker was huge and took two hands to control. I held it and let the bag slide to the floor. Wilson was right in front of me and I knew he was the ringleader. Just as he reached for me, I used every ounce of strength in my body and swung the book down at his raised prick. I mean I hit that thing with an 8 pound book and everything I had. The top of the book actually skimmed his stomach on the way down and smashed into the root, right where it joined his body. Of course, because of the upward angle of his wanger and the slightly lower than horizontal angle of the book, it hit the head first, the worked its way down the rest of his cock. I expected it to crack, I hit that fucker so hard. What it did was make him bend his knees while bending over, grabbing for his meat with both hands. I'd seen Wes' cock go down after we made love, but it was never that fast. Wilson made a combination of a grunt, a moan and a wail as he dropped to his knees, holding on to himself, as if that was going to make it better. The pack was coming in for the kill. There were about 12 hard cocks pointed right at me and getting closer. I had to do something. "I'm not going to give up without a fight, guys. I may not get all of you, but if you try anything, there will be several of you who won't be able to fuck for a while." Thomas, the guy who scored the touchdown and was supposed to be an interview subject made a move toward me. "Come on, guys. She can't get all of us." He continued on and then stopped suddenly. His eyes bugged out as he lost control of his legs, bending his knees. I looked behind him and saw Bubba. I knew Bubba was big. I didn't realize he could choke a running back from behind by wrapping one hand around his neck. "OK, guys. That's enough. This little lady is a friend of mine and anyone who even thinks of harming her is gonna hear from me. Do I make myself clear?" There were some nods and some mumbles and the crowd dispersed as everyone pulled up his pants. Thomas had recovered from Bubba's hand around his throat but he wasn't doing much. He was kneeling at Bubba's feet and Bubba had a fistful of his hair. Bubba pulled Thomas up by his hair, off the ground, letting him spin until he they were facing each other. Thomas yelled and grabbed at Bubba's hand but it didn't do any good. "I think you were supposed to give an interview to this little lady, Thomas. Is that right?" He sort of squeaked a "Yes, it is, Bubba." "That's nice. Have you got a notepad, Sweety?" I reached over for my book bag. "I've can do even better than that. You just talk towards the tape recorder while I ask you questions, Thomas." I raised my voice. "And by the way guys, this thing's been recording everything that happened since I started the question and answer period. So if any of you have any ideas of doing anything to me to get back at me about anything that happened today, just remember I've got some friends on the school paper." Thomas was very cooperative during our interview, even after Bubba finally let go. I got ready to leave and saw that Wilson was still holding his hand between his legs, kind of kneeling and sitting at the same time. I walked over to Bubba, got him by the shoulders and pulled him close, kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks Big Guy. I owe you for this." "Hell, Little Lady, that's not all you owe me for. You never did set me up with Darcy." "Oh, shit. I'm sorry Bubba. That was pretty mean of me. I apologize." "Heck, that's OK. I didn't think you could. Hell, I wouldn't know what to do with a beautiful girl like her. It was worth it to ride around with you and have you hang all over me for two weeks." I kissed him again and made for the door. I saw him pick Wilson up off the floor by his hair as I left. ------- Chapter 13: Playing The Field Jim Williams picked me up at 6:30 the following Friday. I'd checked around with anyone who was still talking to me and nobody seemed to know a lot about him. He was in a couple of honors classes, was on the tennis team, but wasn't your typical, popular athlete. Most people knew who he was but not a lot more than that. Jeff was at our house visiting Mom when Jim rang the doorbell. The next thing Jim knew, he was sitting on the couch, talking with Jeff as if they were old friends. About five minutes into their talk, Jeff suddenly said, "Well, I've got to go and I'm sure you two do, too," stood up and shook Jim's hand. As Jim turned to leave, Jeff smiled at me and held up two thumbs. The car was obviously his parents'. A '62 Buick Skylark, well taken care of. While not showroom new, the interior was clean and it had been waxed recently. Jim opened the door for me and I slid in. I hesitated a bit, but by the time he had walked around and gotten in his side, I slid over, next to him. He looked over at me and smiled. "Leslie, I just want to tell you I'm glad you agreed to come out with me." "I'm glad you asked, me, Jim." "I'm afraid I don't date much." "Well, you don't seem to have bad breath. What's the problem?" "I just don't get along with girls too well." "Oh?" "I don't know. I don't know what to say to them." "Well, you seem to be doing OK with me." "Yeah, I do, don't I? Gosh, you sure look pretty." "Thanks." It sounded a little too 'Leave it to Beaver' the way he said it. Shades of Eddie Haskell talking to June Cleaver. He had his hands in the classic 10:00, 2:00 position on the steering wheel, so I decided not to hold his hand. I leaned up against him and lay my hand on his leg, careful not to give him any ideas. Just enough to show a little affection. "Actually, this is the first time I've been out on a date. I've done some things with groups and with friends, but never with just one guy." "Do you like the games?" "I went last week and enjoyed it. I didn't go to this school last year." "Oh really? Where did you go last year?" "I went to Parkway junior high, Jim. Didn't you know I'm a freshman?" "Uh, no. I mean I didn't realize." "Is that going to be a problem?" "Uh, no, I don't think so. I mean, why should it be a problem?" "I don't know. You obviously thought I was older. I just don't want you to feel trapped into taking me out. Consider this a 'get out of jail free' card." "I don't need a card. You do like football, don't you?" "I went to the game last week and had a good time. Of course, I was talking to friends for a lot of the game, but yes, I enjoyed it." "OK. That's good enough for me." Jim paid for our tickets and we swung by the snack bar. They had three kinds of soda and several different candy bars available. I let him get me a soda, but I'd just finished eating and didn't need any candy. He asked if I wanted gum, but I turned that down, too. I don't think there's anything as unattractive as a girl chewing gum like a cow with its cud. Unless it's smoking. I couldn't believe all the junk and the prices. Before you know it, people are going to skip eating dinner and just fill up with junk at the football game. We found a seat about two thirds of the way up the stairs at about the 40 yard line. We had a pretty good view of the field. I could see the teams doing their warm up exercises. Bubba happened to see me and waved, a big grin on his face. I smiled and waved back. I began to find out what Jim had been talking about when we first got in the car. Once he told me that he had a hard time talking to girls, he didn't have a whole lot to say. I tried to pull things out of him by asking him questions about school, tennis, his family and anything else I could think of and he just answered in a few words. I thought for sure he would talk about tennis but he had less to say about that than anything else. We'd run out of things to say by halftime. Jim wanted to spend more money at the snack bar but I didn't want anything. He wanted to buy me another coke but I was more concerned with getting rid of the one I'd already had. There's something about drinking when it's cold that makes it go right through me. He went down with me since the restrooms were near the snack bar. I ran into Vicky in the Ladies room. She had a couple of cameras hanging from her neck and was taking a break while the teams were off the field. She didn't have a lot of time to talk because she had to get back and take some shots of the marching bands. She was really getting into Yearbook. I finished in the restroom and made my way outside. Jim was up at the front of the line, loading up with candy and a large Coke. As he came up to me, I assured him that even though he bought plenty of candy and an extra large Coke that I still didn't want anything. We were almost silent through the rest of the game. I pointed out Bubba on a couple of plays. He seems to have a way of plowing through the other team's offense as if they're stuck to the ground and can't move. We won by a field goal. The game was pretty good but I didn't really enjoy myself. Jim wanted to go out for something to eat after the game but I asked him to take me home. When we got there, he was a gentleman and opened the door for me. We walked up to the front door and I waited for him to make a move to kiss me goodnight. I noticed he had some gum in his mouth and it seemed like he didn't know what to do with it. After waiting about ten seconds for the kiss it was obvious I wasn't going to get, I thanked him for taking me to the game and went inside. Mom was still up when I came in. "How was your big date?" "Boring." We talked about it and had a few laughs at Jim's expense, I'm afraid. I told Mom I was surprised he wasn't fat, the way he kept stuffing himself at the game. She told me he was probably nervous being with me and was eating to overcome it. "But Mom, why should he be nervous? I'm just me. Nothing intimidating." "Come on, Leslie. When's the last time you looked in the mirror?" "I look in the mirror all the time. What does that have to do with anything?" "Boys get intimidated with good looking girls. I'm surprised he had the guts to ask you out after what you've told me. You're going to find that there will be a lot of boys who won't because they think you'd never go out with them because you're too good looking." "Well, that's pretty rotten. I can't help the way I look." "I know, honey. I spent many a Friday or Saturday home when I was in high school. I never went out on more than three or four dates with a boy until I met your father. The only reason he asked me out was that he had been in the Navy for a couple of years and was mature enough to see something he wanted and go for it." "Daddy was pretty romantic back then, wasn't he?" "Oh, yes. I'm afraid he swept me off my feet and there wasn't a thing I could do about it." "What happened?" "People change. Your father was always fine with just me. It was when you guys came along he started getting antsy. He just can't handle the responsibility of having children." "Well he sure isn't showing it, getting his girlfriend pregnant." "Oh, he had something to do with that, all right. But I think she probably made him think she was a lot safer than she really was. She had her hooks out for your father from the start. And I'm afraid your father does most of his thinking with his little brain when it comes to women." The next day was Joey's day to mow our lawn. My brother had always taken care of it and Joey had volunteered to keep it trimmed after it was evident that Wes was going to be out of the picture for a while. Since it was the fall, he was able to get by a few weeks without mowing it. He'd usually do his lawn, then move over to our yard. It was a nice day, considering it was late in September. I guess the temperature was in the low 70s. I noticed Joey had his shirt off, tucked into his shorts. I got some ice tea out of the refrigerator and took a glass out to him. "Hey, Les. Thanks. I saw you at the game last night." "Really? I didn't see you." "Yeah, we both used the restrooms at halftime. I saw you talking to Vicky. I didn't think it would be right to go up to you and say Hi." "Vicky's been pretty messed up because you broke up with her." "Yeah, I guess. She was just getting too clingy. I'm not ready to be tied down by one girl right now." "I remember you when you wouldn't even talk to a girl. Let's see, that must be way back... maybe three months ago. You didn't seem to mind Vicky clinging back then. I seem to remember the two of you sharing the same chair whenever you visited me in the hospital." "Yeah, I know. I just grew up a lot faster than she did." "I guess you could call it that." "Yeah, I like it better being able to go out with whoever I want. Speaking of which, how would you like to go see Cat Ballou with me tonight?" I looked at him a bit closer. "Joey, are you asking me out on a date?" "Sure. Why not? Or are you going steady with Jim?" "No. I'm just surprised that you'd be interested in me that way." "So, would you like to go?" "Sure. It'll be fun." "OK. I'll be by around 6:30." "OK." I took the empty glass he held out and made my way back to the house. This was weird. First of all, Joey had been my brother's best friend forever. He was always in and out of the house, but he was just 'Joey.' Nothing romantic, just my brother's best buddy. Plus, he had been Vicky's first date. They'd both been pretty shy when my mother shoved them together while I was in having my kidney removed. She had said she wanted him to go with her when we went to the drive-in that weekend, but my brother's accident kind of messed that up. For months, Vicky and Joey seemed to be joined at the hip. And she had no indication anything was wrong. One minute everything was fine, the next he was telling he he wanted to be able to date other women. I didn't dislike Joey, I just didn't consider him boyfriend material. I suppose there wasn't anything wrong with the two of us catching a movie together. Lord knows we were around each other enough that we'd be comfortable together. Of course, Joey hadn't been around much since Wes got hit by that car, so I hadn't seen him since he lost some of his shyness around women. I decided not to worry about it and just go along with it and see what happened. I told Mom I had to have dinner before 6:00 so I could be ready when Joey came over. She was as surprised as I was that he'd asked me out. She called the hospital and got my stepfather on the phone. She told him that we were going to eat at 5:30 and if he wanted to eat, he'd better be home. She laughed, told him she loved him and hung up. "What did he say?" "He said he'll be here, even if he has to leave half of Mr. Peabody's ulcer in." "He wouldn't really do that, would he?" "Oh, come on, Leslie. You know him better than that. But he doesn't think I know they don't schedule surgery for late in the day. They seem to like waking up patients at 5:00 in the morning, shaving them, doping them up and cutting them open before they've had their morning coffee." "But I had surgery at 7:00 at night." "Well, that was a little different. If the two of you hadn't had that surgery that night, your brother may not have made it. He definitely wouldn't have the chance of survival he does now. And you can bet Jeff would have missed my dinner if there was a need for him to go into surgery. That's one thing I had to get used to real quick. If it's a choice between saving someone's life and spending time with me, I'm going to lose every time. But boy, when he's with me and there's no life to save, he's with me 150%. I just hope that you find someone who loves you half as much." Jeff didn't make it by 5:30, but he was only five minutes late. He had a story of how Mr. Peabody woke up in the middle of surgery and he had to make some excuses about why he wasn't finishing the job. Mom told him he was a fraud and he was probably chasing some nurse around the hospital. He told her she was tiring him out too much and he'd had to give that up. When I told him I was going out with Joey, he asked if he was going to get to grill him like he did with Jim last night. I laughed and told him he didn't need to worry about Joey, I'd known him for years. He told me that those were the ones you had to worry about the most. Right at 6:30, the doorbell rang. I went to the door and there he was, wearing a brand new Madras shirt. He actually looked pretty sharp. Neither of us was old enough to drive but that didn't make a lot of difference to us. Town's only about a half mile away and it was a nice evening to walk. We talked about school. Joey was having some problems in English. He talked about the stuff they were going over, but it didn't mean a whole lot to me. I'd heard some of the words, but hadn't studied them. We got to the theater and Joey bought our tickets. He found us seats towards the back, away from everyone. He said it was so people talking wouldn't interrupt us. The movie was a lot of fun. Nat King Cole and some fat guy played a song about Cat Ballou throughout the whole movie. It was the same one they played on the radio only they just played part of it each time they were in a scene. I was amazed at how much Jane Fonda looked like Mom. Give her red hair and they could be sisters. Lee Marvin was great and that horse of his was a crackup. I loved it when he was drunk and his pants fell down and he took a shot and missed the barn. I recognized a lot of the other actors but the only one I knew was the guy who played Dobie Gillis on TV. He played a preacher who happened to be the uncle of Jane Fonda's boyfriend. That part was good. The part that wasn't was Joey. It wasn't long until I found out he was more concerned with being able to paw all over me than people talking and interrupting us. I swear, he was just like an octopus; I'd get one hand other control and it seemed like three more would be going at me. I finally slapped him and told him in no uncertain terms that I knew how to hurt a man and wasn't afraid to do it. I'm afraid he kind of ruined the movie for me. If he'd behaved he might have gotten some of what he was trying to take. I know I would have been in his arms for comfort when Lee Marvin comes in the hotel room with the bad guy's nose in front of him. Boy, that was scary until he started talking about how it was his brother and they used to play cowboys when they were growing up. Joey made another try at grabbing me and I took the errant hand in my right and pinched the arm for all it was worth with my left. I have some pretty decent nails and was able to make him stop fairly easy. I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Next time, it's your balls. Go ahead, Joey, try me." I could see his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. He pretty much stayed to himself for the rest of the evening. The walk home was a lot more strained than the walk into town had been. Backwards, as far as I was concerned. He didn't even bother to walk me to my door, he just turned up the walk when we got to his house and I went on to ours. Two dates in two nights. And both were major disappointments. Surely, there had to be somebody out there to compare with my brother. Somewhere. Now, if I could just find him... ------- Chapter 14: Forty Acres and a Mule "Knee Grow." It sounds pretty neat when you say it. Mom says they used to be called coloreds and some other things she won't even tell me, but now that's the correct term. La Mesa has always been a mixed neighborhood. We have lawyers, people who run their own companies, carpenters, painters, you name it. People from all walks of life. Today I saw my first Negroes. There is a girl in my class and a boy a couple of years ahead of me. They're brother and sister. I guess she's pretty smart. She was put in honors English and Chemistry with me. Well, not with me. In the same class I'm in. You know what I mean. She stood up in front of the class in English and told us about herself. They moved here from Texas. Her father was in the Navy there. I didn't even know they had boats in Texas. Live and learn. She's been to nine different schools since kindergarten. That's almost one school every year. I think she's pretty in her own way. She has real smooth looking skin, almost the color of the wooden arms on the chair my grandmother left us. And her hair is dark black, kind of like a Brillo pad. And her eyes are so brown. She looks at you with those eyes and it's like they go on forever. Her hands are pink on the bottom. Like she rubbed the dark off on her pants or something. And her teeth look so bright against that dark skin. Almost like they'd shine in the dark. So, that was the news around school today. Sandy and Roberta were telling everyone that the prices of our houses were going to go downhill and it wasn't going to be safe to go out at night and stuff like that. Yeah. Like a couple of kids could screw things up like that. They didn't seem to make friends with anybody. They ate lunch by themselves, out on the lawn. Maybe they don't like white people. I don't know. I saw Mr. Johnson as I was walking home from school today, out watering his lawn again. I swear, that lawn must be the best fed one in the neighborhood. "Hi, Leslie. Got time to talk to an old man?" "For you, Mr. Johnson, always." "You know I don't like that. My friends all call me Donald." "I know. It just seems so disrespectful." "Leslie, you're one of my closest friends. I find it disrespectful when you call me Mr. Johnson." He turned off the hose, but didn't roll it up. "Sit down on the porch and I'll get us some lemonade." "Can I help?" "You just sit right there and rest. It won't hurt me to get a couple of glasses of lemonade." I heard the soft tinkling of ice in the kitchen, then he came out with a couple of tall glasses. Donald makes his own lemonade and always has a pitcher in the refrigerator. It's both tart and sweet at the same time. I look forward to going to his house just for the lemonade. Well, I like him, too, of course. But I do like the lemonade. "So, My Dear, what is new in your life?" "We got a couple of new kids at school today." "That's nice. I guess you don't get a lot of new kids once school starts." "No, we don't, but that's not all. They're Negroes." "You don't say. In good old La Mesa. I can't say that I'm surprised." "I don't understand." "Leslie, how much do you know about Negroes?" "Not a lot. I used to like to listen to some of their songs on the radio. James Brown had some good songs and so did The Supremes. But my father told me he didn't want me listening to any of that jungle music in his house. There was no way I could buy any of their records. I wouldn't be able to listen to them." Did your father like Benny Goodman or Glenn Miller?" "Oh, yeah. He and Mom would dance to some of that stuff." "Well, that style of music is called 'swing.' It's a direct descendant of jazz. Jazz is definitely Negro music. And most of the early band leaders who played swing music were Negroes. Louis Armstrong. Cab Calloway. Count Basie. And your father's father probably called it jungle music or something else just as derogatory." "Boy, if he was still around, I'd love to tell him what you said." "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Leslie. People are very touchy about their prejudices." "Oh, my father's not prejudiced." "Leslie, you don't have to lynch people or burn crosses to be prejudiced." "Lynch people? Burn crosses? I don't understand." "Oh, my. Your education has surely been lacking. No wonder you're confused about Negroes. Didn't you hear about the riots in the Los Angeles area last year?" "I don't think so. I heard something about some place called Watts." "Watts is an area of Los Angeles. It's a neighborhood, but I think it's actually part of the city of Los Angeles. The Negroes in that neighborhood, about a hundred miles from here, were setting fires, destroying cars and buildings, protesting the way they've been treated. That's just the latest thing in the life of the Black man. There have been many good things they've been involved in from Rosa Parks to the lunch counter sit in at Woolworth's, to the Little Rock Nine. I'll bet you've never heard of any of those, have you?" "No, I haven't." "Well, My Dear, you are sorely lacking in education. You need to research the Civil Rights Movement and find out a little about the history of the American Negro." "Donald, I think you're right. It sounds like I'm pretty ignorant on the subject. The only thing they ever taught us about in school was George Washington Carver. He had something to do with peanuts, but I don't even remember what. It sounds like I need to spend some time in the library." "Why don't you stop by after you've done some research and we'll talk some more. "I'd like that." I spent time in the library the next two days, both my study hall time and an hour or so after school. Roberta saw me going in the second day after school and asked if I was on detention. She got real huffy when I told her I was trying to improve myself by learning something but she wouldn't know anything about doing something like that. So, I learned about Watts. It was a real poor section of Los Angeles and they did have almost a week of riots. And Rosa Parks had refused to move out of the white people's seats on a bus. The lunch counter sit-in was a protest because black people weren't allowed to order food at Woolworth's. And those same people who protested were served at that same Woolworth's a couple of years later. The Little Rock Nine were nine high school students who the governor of Arkansas tried to keep from going to high school there. He made the national guard prevent them from going into the school. President Eisenhower took control of the national guard troop and they were allowed to attend the school. Three of them graduated, one girl got kicked out because she got into trouble and others moved to other schools. What I learned was that the Negroes were supposed to have gotten their freedom at the end of the civil war but nobody really let them have it. And that it wasn't unusual for them to get hung from a tree, only they called it lynching. For the crime of being the wrong color. And if they moved into the wrong neighborhood or happened to look at the wrong woman, they might end up with a burning cross on their front lawn some night. After spending two days in the library, I decided I'd had enough learning from books. The next day at lunch, I went over to them on the lawn. "Hi. My name's Les." "I'm Leticia." "Darrel." "Do you mind it I eat with you?" "You want to eat with us? What is this, a bet or something? See if you can sit down with the niggers?" "No, nothing like that. It's just that I was talking to a friend of mine and he said I didn't know anything about Negroes and so I looked up some things in the library and I thought I'd like to talk to some myself." "So, we're like a science project?" "Darrel, leave the girl alone. OK, Les, who's this friend who said you didn't know anything." "Mr. Johnson. Donald. He's like 85 years old. He's a really good guy. I was talking to him the day you guys started here and he asked me about Woolworth's and Little Rock and Rosa Parks and Watts and I didn't know anything about any of them. So he said I should spend some time in the library and I did and it sounds to me like they gave you your freedom after the Civil War but really all they did was keep you from working for people for nothing. I guess things are better now that Rosa wouldn't give up her seat and the nine forced their way into school, but I bet they still aren't perfect. I don't know. You two are the first Negroes I've seen. I mean in real life." "So, you want us to tell you how terrible it is being a black man and how grateful we are that you let us move into your neighborhood and go to your school and eat on your grass so that you can leave us alone and feel good about yourself. Is that it?" "No, Darrel. I mean yes. I mean, I want you to tell me about yourself. I don't want to leave you and fell good about myself unless you'd rather not have me around. I don't understand you. And I'd like to. Is that really so bad?" Leticia said, "No, Les, that's not bad. What do you want to know?" "I don't know. I guess I want to know how it feels to be a Negro." "I don't know, Les. How does it feel to be a white girl?" "I don't know. I've never thought about it." "Well, there's your answer. We always have to think about it. I can't ever just be a student or a teenager or a girl. It's always a black student, a teenage Negro, a black girl. We can't be anything that isn't specified by using our race or our color." "Well, at least you didn't have to have the national guard escort you onto the campus here at Grossmont." "No, but my parents had to prove that we lived in the district before they'd let us come to school here. And they had a hard time doing it, even with mortgage papers on the house and a bill from Pacific Telephone and another from San Diego Gas & Electric." "Well, at least you could buy a house. From what I hear, you might not have been able to a few years ago." "Les, it wasn't that easy. We had to trick them into letting us buy that house." "What do you mean?" "Are you sure you want to hear this?" "Yes. I'm really interested." "OK, I'll tell you. My father was in the Navy for 25 years. He retired a few months ago because he knew they'd be sending him to Viet Nam sooner or later. He was a Navy pilot. We were stationed at a Naval air base in Texas when he retired. He got a job with Southwest Airlines, based out of Lindbergh Field. "We lived in North Park when I was a kid and Dad was stationed in San Diego. So he was familiar with the area. Mom wanted to move to La Mesa because of Grossmont. It's one of the best schools in the San Diego area. "We knew we made more than enough to buy a house. Dad makes good money as a pilot and he has a good pension from the Navy. And we had a real good down payment. "First, nobody would talk to us who was selling a house. Realtors would make appointments over the phone and then when Mom and Dad showed up, the houses would all of a sudden be sold. Or they would have an appointment they forgot about. And when Mom or Dad called back, they'd be out of the office. The only way we found the house we got was that Dad got a white pilot from Southwest to pretend to be him. We made an offer and had him deliver it to the realtor. "Once they found out who we really were, they wanted to back out. When Dad threatened to take it to the housing board, they stopped, but they made it clear we wouldn't be happy living in an all white neighborhood. "And then we had to go to five banks before we'd find one that would talk to us. Dad finally found one that said they would approve loans over the phone. He gave all the information and they verified it. They called and said that everything checked out. He had to record all the phone conversations. When they went into the bank to sign the papers, the people at the bank tried to escort them out. Dad told them he wanted a rejection in writing so he could take it and the tapes to the banking commission. They weren't very happy and talked about being tricked into giving us a loan. They also made it very clear that if we were even one day late on a payment that they'd start repossession procedures on the house. "So, no, it didn't take the national guard. But we had to threaten a couple of people with being taken to court in order to get a loan and move into a house. And now that we have a place, nobody wants to have anything to do with us. Every time we go outside we get stared at by everyone on the block, but nobody has said Hi or invited Mom over for coffee or anything. "So, does that tell you what it's like to be a Negro girl in La Mesa?" "I guess so. So, would you like a friend?" Darrel looked angry. "Don't you get it, White Girl? We're outcasts. I'm not a football player. Leticia's not a cheerleader. We don't get together and gossip. We're niggers. Now run to your friends and tell them how you talked to the black folk." It wasn't right what he was saying. He was starting to make me cry. "It's not like that, Darrel. I really wanted to know. I used to be a cheerleader but I quit because they talked about me when I made the mistake of telling one of them a secret. And none of them will have anything to do with me because I told them what I think of them. I have one friend on the football team. He stopped the rest of the players on the team from trying to rape me a week and a half ago. I found out that you people have been having a bad time. I thought there was some way I could help. Maybe if I could be your friend, maybe someone else would want to, and then someone else, and then you wouldn't be separate from everyone else. Maybe it was a dumb idea. I'll leave and you guys can sit over here by yourselves and eat in peace. I'm sorry I bothered you." Damn. They got me all emotional. I hadn't cried in front of people since grade school. I felt an arm around my shoulder. I looked up to see Leticia. "Les, don't let my brother get to you. Sometimes he gets so defensive he creates his own problems. I'd like to be your friend. And I'd like to meet this old man you told us about." "Really?" "Yeah. Really. So, where do you live?" "On Gregory." "Oh. We live on Henderson. We probably walk the same way to school. Do you take Amaya up to Gregory?" "Yes." "So do we. Would you like to walk home together?" "Yes, I'd like that." "You know people might talk about you, don't you?" "They already do that." "OK. I'll be waiting by that sign over there after last period. If you still want to walk home with me, meet me there." "OK, Leticia." ------- Chapter 15: Cycle of Life Leticia and I became great friends. She was amazed at the way Mom and Jeff accepted her. She was a friend of mine and that was all that mattered as far as they were concerned. Mom told me that black and white were just different parts of the spectrum and nothing to be concerned about. Like someone saying they didn't want to have anything to do with me because I got a sunburn. They invited her parents over for barbecues several times but there was always some reason they couldn't make it. After the third or fourth invitation, they stopped asking. I think Leticia was most pleased with Donald. Mr. Johnson was genuinely interested in her stories and got her to be happy with who she was. Dad's honey was pregnant and wanted to make sure she had him thoroughly snagged, so she made him do what was necessary to make the divorce quick and painless. Well, not completely painless to him. Mom got the house, her car, we were insured for any medical problems, and our college educations were taken care of. Jeff married Mom and they lived happily ever after. Mom started to show shortly after she and Jeff walked down the aisle. Knowing Jeff's attitude about messing around before they got married, he had to know the baby couldn't be his. But he took it in stride, acting like the proud father to be, boasting of all the children he and Mom were going to produce. I imagine the two of them talked, but he wouldn't let anyone bring it up. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was his child and that was the end of it. I think all of us knew the father was lying in bed in the room next to mine, encased in plaster of Paris. And I don't think anyone really cared. The end of the semester was coming up and we needed to arrange for a replacement class for Yearbook. I chose Health, the one that was practically all sex ed. I think I had the sex part down pretty good, but I wanted to see if I could get any tips on how to get a date somewhere between boring and grabby. I wanted to find someone who loved me, would take care of me sexually, someone who cared enough to keep me in my place. Someone like Wes. Well, they don't teach that in Health. I can put a rubber on a banana with the best of them. But I still don't have a clue on how to find someone to love. The months went by and Leticia and I became buddies. Darrel still acted like he had a stick up his ass, but he'd break down occasionally and talk to me. Leticia and I had many talks with Donald and were with him in the hospital when he died. He told us not to cry because he was finally going to be with his Marie, this time forever. A lot of good that did. Both of us still cry when we think about him. But we smile a lot, too. Donald was one of the most caring, honest people I've ever met. If I could find a Donald my age, I'd snap him up in a second. Mrs. Badger looks more frail every time I see her. Donald was there with her for a few months after her sister died, but now that he's gone, I don't think it will be long before she follows. Call me heartless, but I don't think it will be a bad thing when it happens. There has to be more to life than just breathing. She and her sister were like Siamese twins. Maybe they'll be together again. I stop by once in a while to check on her. We never were close, but I got to know her when Donald was living there. Leticia sees her once in a while, too. Well, I now have a half sister and a half brother. Jessica was born three months ago and is the reason my father was in such a rush to get a quick divorce. Mom gets her checks every month like clockwork; my father has always taken care of us financially, although his personal connection with all of us leaves a lot to be desired. Mom heard about Jes from the wife of one of my father's coworkers. None of us have seen her. I know she could never be a "normal" sister, so maybe it's for the best. I wonder if she'll ever know that her father has three other children. Fess was born a month ago and came out screaming. Mom says he likes the tit even more than my brother. And I know how much my brother likes the tit. Jeff is the one who insisted on naming him Fess. He's named after the guy who plays Davy Crockett on Disneyland once in a while. But Jeff says that's nothing, he was great in Old Yeller. Poor Jaz. He's the odd one out with the weird name. Of course, I'm already hearing about it from everyone, ten times as much as when it was just Wes and Les. Now it's Wes, Les, Jess and Fess. Come to think of it, maybe Jaz is the only one with a normal name. Unlike my sister, I get to see Fess all the time. Mom is either carrying him around, hanging from one of her tits, or Dad is giving him a tour of the living room or the back yard with a grin a mile wide on his face. I've known Jeff less than a year, but he's Dad, where James Bond is my father. I realize my brothers and I were a nuisance he put up with so he could have my mother. Maybe it was the three of us he got tired of, maybe it was Mom. We've heard that his Teresa, or Bimbo as Mom calls her, is a whiny little bitch and now that she's trapped him she just wants him for what she can get out of him. He'll probably get tired sooner or later and have another ex-wife and child to support. Though he doesn't have to pay Mom any alimony since she got married. Jeff wouldn't let her take it even if he had to. Which shows the kind of man Jeff is, and why he's my dad and my father never will be. I got a letter a couple of days ago from Darcy. Her brother Bill is now her husband Bill as far as anyone is concerned. They already had the same last name and they have a daughter, so people just assume they're married. He has a job working for a motorcycle shop, repairing bikes. His back acts up once in a while from the shrapnel he took in Nam, but I guess he's so good at his job that his boss is willing to work with him, and lets him take time off when he needs to. Both of them think their daughter looks like the other but they do agree that she's the most beautiful baby they've ever seen. Of course, they haven't seen Fess. Darcy says they tried to figure out a way to name her after my brother because he's the one that got them together, but however they worked it, she'd end up being called Wes and they didn't want that. So, she's Christina Annette, Chrissie to him and Tina to her. I have a standing invitation to visit Oregon whenever I want to. It's good to have Wes alive again. I'm sorry, but it was as if he was dead all those months he was in a coma. He says he doesn't remember any of it. Was he busy repairing his body like Jeff says? Did he spend a few months in heaven or traveling around the universe? Or is that hunk of meat we kept in that bed all there is to my brother and he just wasn't anything during his coma until the right balance of chemicals brought him out of it? We'll probably never know. Somebody mentioned that I gave him a kidney about two weeks after he woke up. When he thanked me, I think it was as uncomfortable for him as it was for me being thanked. I told him to take care of it because it was the only one I could spare. I don't know, I didn't give it to him for thanks or praise or anything like that. He needed it and I had it. I probably would have done the same for Sam or Donald Johnson. He treats Fess good, like a baby brother he cares about, but nothing special. I don't think anybody has said anything to him. I wonder if he realizes Fess is his son? Our relationship has been strained since he came back. One of these days we're going to have to face up to it and talk about those four days we spent together as lovers. Four days. Sometimes it seems it was all a dream and sometimes it seems like it lasted for months. One thing it taught me is that games are for children. I wanted nothing more than to make love with him and he ended up raping me because I made him jealous instead of going after what I wanted. Talk about stupid. I'm sure that the rape is something we'll need to talk about, because we never have. God only knows how he feels about that. I can tell he feels guilty, probably for the rape, taking his sister to bed in the first place and for leaving me and taking Sam in my place. Oh, the things we put ourselves through. I need to talk with him soon. I'll never be sorry for those four days, but the accident or something else needed to happen or we would have ended up trapped in something that would have destroyed both of us. I know Sam looks upon my reaction when he was in a coma as deserting Wes, and so did I at the beginning. But nothing good could ever come out of a relationship with my brother. My relationship with Sam really suffered. She was always my best buddy, but I was definitely the leader. I talked her into going out for cheerleading though she wasn't that interested in it and whenever we did something together, it was what I wanted to do. In a way, I'm glad about the way things turned out. She found out who she was when Wes got hit by that car. I know there's some resentment because she was interested in Wes when I told her I wanted him. She tried to hide it from me but I figured it out. What is it they say? All's fair in love and war? Anyway, I went ahead and seduced him, regardless of her feelings for him. Should I have pulled back and let her try her best when I'd been dreaming of him for a few years? That's a tough call. I'm not sorry I had my time with him, but I'm glad she eventually got what she wanted. He'll never find someone as devoted, someone who loves him as much as Sam does. St. Sam. It fits her. I started this tale talking of how I would love to fuck my father, Mr. Bond. A lot has happened since I said that. I've found out he's not the person I thought he was. I had this perfect father built up in my mind and just knew if I figured out the right things to do everything would be all right, we'd live happily ever after and I'd have the father I always needed. I've grown up a lot since then, and fucking him wouldn't have done any good; it would only make things worse. And Sean Connery has to be at least 40, so I'll pass on him, too. Fucking's all right. It's good exercise, it feels good, and there's nothing like an orgasm to make your day. But that orgasm's so much better when it's given and received with love. Joey was all hands and that turned me off; Jim Williams was so afraid of me he could hardly look at me. My experience with Nancy was good, but it was selfish. I never gave her anything in return and I need to make that up to her. Now that she's going with Bubba, being her friend is probably the thing she needs most from me. Hey, I introduced them; that has to count for something. That afternoon with Darcy and Bill was the closest thing to love other than my times with Wes. But it was a pale imitation of what love can be. I know what I want. I had it once but it was with the wrong person. It's out there, and one of these days, I'll find it. And when I do, I know how to put on a condom. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2005-04-18 Last Modified: 2007-04-21 / 12:55:55 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------