Chapter 1: Beginnings

Then

That stupid plastic bucket was my wake-up call. Mr. Biederman wasn't pleasant about it, either.

"Son, if I catch you in my yard again I'll turn Blackie loose on you."

Mr. Biederman's lips glistened and spittle flew to the side. His hand on Blackie's collar trembled. Blackie's lips glistened, too. He also drooled, and he looked hungry.

Crap.

"I'm sorry, Mr. B." I tried not to whine. "It won't happen again."

"Get out of here, kid."

You won't catch me again, old man.

He never did, either, although I must have gone through his yard at least twice a week during the summer after eighth grade. I knew what the cost was, now, maybe more than I'd known before, and I knew how to beat him. It was worth it.

Why did I do this? Because I like to watch.

As I look back on it now, I think it's partly a function of being a middle child. Middle children are watchers. They don't want to get in the kind of trouble the oldest kid does when he or--especially these days, she--pushes whatever boundary is in the kid's way. And the youngest one is usually caught up in his own world. Not interested.

No, I've been a watcher ever since I was little. I watch. I learn. I stay out of sight, figuratively and literally.

The first time it happened I thought I was dreaming.

"Eat me," she said. "Now."

I opened my lips to comply and got a mouthful of pillow. The cupcake vanished. Cupcake? I was dreaming.

The rush next time was more than I could bear. Like coming in first in a dozen races at once. Like plenty of gravy on turkey at Thanksgiving. I don't know, except it wasn't like any of those things, really. A flash, and then there was something hot and wet until it turned cold. That last bit wasn't so nice.

A hand here and a hand there, some consultations with my friend, Jim, some experiments, and now we had that good feeling whenever we wanted. Jim and I did, anyway, but not so much Dick Milner. I know because I asked him.

"Do you ever do that thing?"

He knew what I was talking about, sure he did.

"No, not really."

Not really? Sure.

"Don't you like to feel good?"

"Yeah, but Mom says I shouldn't."

I should have known. Dick was the only kid I ever knew who did his homework first when he got home from school. Not even a snack before he started.

He was lying, I think we both knew that, but I didn't push him. Besides, Jim and I were learning new things almost every day.

The girls in our class were getting to be interesting to us in new ways, too. I don't remember how I learned this stuff. Some of it must have been in "health" class, I suppose. The rest of it was in the air.

We practically vibrated. The slightest touch would set us off, and often did.

Magazine pictures weren't enough. After you'd seen one African woman without clothes, even a young one with perfect breasts, you'd seen them all, or at least it felt that way. Besides, they were in Africa and I was here. Not only that, but they were doing ordinary things, even if their breasts were bare. I mean, how sexy is doing the wash or holding a kid, or even nursing a baby, anyway? Later on I found out, but that was later.

So, I started watching the girls around me. Susan Vanderbilt was my principal target. She knew she was, too.

"Did you see what she was doing, Jim?"

We were eating lunch in the school patio at the table closest to the lawn.

"When?"

"Third period. Algebra. She was showing me that problem on Page 56?"

He smirked.

"You weren't paying much attention to the problem, it looked like."

He was right. I was looking down the front of her dress. I could see her bra and the tops of her breasts. I kept hoping maybe I'd see her nipples, but I didn't.

"I thought I was going to come in my pants, you know."

He laughed.

"She's been doing that to me, too."

"Oh, yeah?"

This was interesting. I'd thought she was pretty much just flirting with me, but I guess I was wrong.

He leaned closer.

"You know where she lives, right?"

"Where?"

"On the other side of Biederman's house down the street from us."

This was interesting. Very interesting.

"I know where her bedroom is, too."

I looked at Jim.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

We looked at each other.

"You see her?"

He smiled.

"Maybe."

"When?"

I was thinking I was going to have to demand some proof of this amazing development, in fact.

"Last summer was the first time. I was watering Mr. Biederman's lawn while they were away in August. Remember that?"

I remembered. I'd even gone over to help him once or twice. I didn't remember anything about Susan, though.

"Well, they have a pool."

Crap. I'd forgotten about that. Although maybe last summer it wasn't quite time yet for me to be thinking about that stuff.

"Yeah."

"So, Susan and her sister are out in the sun all the time."

"So?"

"They wear tops, but they undo them when they're face-down so they get an even tan."

"And?"

"Sometimes they forget that they've undone the tops when they lift up a little."

Oh. This was starting to get interesting.

"Her sister's are bigger."

Shit. Now I was totally hard.

"Invite me over this weekend. I want to hear the rest of it."

"OK."

That Saturday afternoon we were out behind Jim's house. His folks were away, although I think his sister was around somewhere.

"Tell me the rest of it, Jim."

"I saw Susan go into the house. Next thing I knew, she was at one of the windows asking her sister where something was. I figured it was her bedroom, although I didn't really know for sure.

"Anyway, I figured maybe I'd come back after dinner and see what was going on."

I had my hand down the front of my shorts. Jim looked over. Unzipped and fished himself out.

"Yeah, that's about what I was thinking, too, David."

"So, what happened?"

He laughed.

"Would you believe, nothing?"

"Huh?"

"The light came on in her bedroom and the first thing she did was walk over to the curtains and pull them shut."

"Crap."

Chapter 2 »