Chapter 9: Self-Portrait in Three Colors

Thursday:

Thursday had become something I looked forward to. Beth or Lis had custody of Alex on Thursdays, but I had a standing lesson with Sarah who was quickly climbing the Matterhorn list of my favorite people. Jill had given me a ride to the Heights after class and I went to knock on the sliding glass door, Susan’s entered into her bedroom. Sarah’s entered into the living room.

Sarah and Alex’s home was the first open concept home I’d seen. As I knocked Sarah looked up from her spot on the couch, raven hair framing a radiant smile as she waved me in. I moved to the recliner sitting opposite her. She spoke softly, melodically, “I thought we’d start off today with Mingus.”

She stood the picture of grace and waltzed over to the record player squatting to find the piece of vinyl she desired. As she did she gave a minilecture about timescales, speed, the instruments on the album, and some of the artist in the ensemble. Eventually, she found her target, “Ah Um”

“God Bless you.”

She giggled, “It’s the name of the album.” She rose to her feet and lifted the plastic cover on the record player, removed the disc from the sleeve, and set it under the needle.

The music kicked up with an awkward speed, but I was captivated. Her smile got a bit deeper as she sat back down and asked before returning to her stack of papers to grade, “How was your week so far?”

“Well, I threw a punch for the first time since I got to this state.” I thought back to Sunday.

Sunday:

Scott, Daniel, and I were halfway up the mountain the school sat on. I was teasing and singing, “It’s I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow ... It’s you, It’s you must go and I must bide.”

Danniel tossed a rock in the general direction of my head, “Jesus, man. I don’t care if you can sing, that’s still not funny.”

We were standing in front of an ancient mine shaft they’d hastily thrown a fence over the entrance to keep the young miscreants (us) out, but over the years the fence was more there in spirit then reality as bit by bit the links were cut by kids aiming to explore.

Scotty offered, “Rock, paper, scissors.”

The three of us formed a circle fist to fist and I said, “I’m going to pick scissors.”

We shook three times and I threw scissors and got faced with two papers.

Danny-boy raged, “You actually threw scissors? Fuck man what kind of psychological bullshit was that.”

“Scissors beat psychological bullshit.”

Scotty sighed, “So, which of us is going in first?”

“I won. So, me. I’ve got torches in my bag.”

Daniel laughed, “Sure, you check for traps.”

I rummaged through my pack and pulled out the three flashlights I’d snagged from the grandmother’s and handed one to each of them, “Keep them out of my eyes ... I’m a bit photophobic.”

I turned mine on and slipped under the fence as Scotty asked, “Isn’t that rabies?”

“That’s hydrophobic. It just means my eyes are sensitive to light, especially when they’ve adapted to seeing in the dark.”

We wandered in and the twins sniped back and forth till eventually we came across a clubhouse. There was a table with cards and snacks on it, a car battery powering some fairy lights, and a green duffel bag.

I picked up the bag and unzipped it to find a handful of rifles and pistols, “Lis mentioned her Dad was looking into some robberies where they stole guns. Bet these are them.”

Daniel added with a bit of tension in his voice, “We need to get out of here. I know Luke was involved in those, so this is a dragon den.”

“Jesus, they’re a bunch of hillbillies. Why do you give in to their hype.”

Daniel shot back, “I can fight one or two of them, not six ... plus they buy from guys out of Detroit. I’d rather not get shot.”

“Lovely. We’ll leave, but we’re taking these.”

Daniel shook his head and his flashlight, “Nah, just leave them.”

“We can drop them by the Deputy’s station and say we found’em in the woods. It’s even true.”

Scott interjected, “Either way, let’s move. This place is dull either way.”

We made our way back to the entrance and saw three of the ‘dragons’ sitting by the fence. One of them had a bit of a gut, one was tall and lanky, and the one in the center had attempted to grow a beard.

My other added, “Patches, patches ... we don’t need no patches.” I get it’s the patchy facial hair, but that’s still badges and I didn’t even like that movie.

Daniel spoke, “Luke, Walter, Tim.”

Patchy beard guy answered, “Those are ours. This place is ours.”

“Cool, we were just leaving.”

Patchy-beard guy shook his head, “Not with our guns.”

Gut made the first move and went for Scott. The two ended up on the ground. Daniel squared up with talk and lanky. Patchy-beard guy went for me. I dropped the duffel and side-stepped. I got lucky and he stumbled. He caught his balance and turned towards me. I threw a punch aimed at his gut and tried to keep track of Daniel and Scott. Scott was still on the ground wrestling with gut, but Daniel had tall and lanky down and had just given him a kick to the ribs.

Patchy-beard went high and had a bit more reach than I. His fist connected with my jaw and as he followed through mine connected with his gut. I decided to use my head and kicked my leg forward taking his out. After he hit the ground, I put a boot in between his shoulder blades.

I took stock and Daniel had knocked Gut off Scott and that was three of us standing and three of them on the ground. “Make you a deal patchy-beard the pirate.”

Daniel spit on gut, “That’s Luke. His Dad owns a body shop on the edge of town. That one is Walter and the fat one is Tim.”

“Alright, Luke ... how about a deal?”

Luke offered, “We’ll clear Daniel’s debt if you leave the guns.”

“No. You’ll clear Daniel’s debt and we’ll wipe your prints off the guns before they get turned in. You lot don’t seem bright enough to have used gloves.”

“Fuck you.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“This isn’t over.”

Thursday:

Sarah asked, “Who’d you punch?”

“Just boys being boys.”

I listened to the song. The second track was soulful, mourning. I loved it. “Ah-um?”

“Yes, Mingus Ah-um. It tickles me that you’re always so enthralled with the music. Even if you zone out during when I talk about the technical aspects.”

“I like the music, not the math.” And that had me thinking of Monday evening.

Monday:

I was in Susan’s bedroom. I sat in her office chair as she moved about the room lighting candles, “So, today’s lesson; virginity.”

“Um ... bit late. You already gave me that lesson”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll be teaching you how to deal with a virgin girl.”

“Sorta already did.”

“Sorta?”

“Never been with a guy before, just a girlfriend and all the miraculous ways they’re using plastic nowadays.”

She laughed, “You’ll need to tell me these stories. But anyway ... I’m going to be showing you how to deal with someone who isn’t experienced. Maybe even a girl that has a hymen.”

“From what I’ve read... ‘

“Yes, Yes, I know. I doubt you’ll run into one even if you pop a girl’s cherry again, but with what you pack you’ll want to make it a good experience for her.”

“So, aside from warming up, dining at the y, be gentle till she’s ready for me not to be, let her get used to my size, and only give her as much as she’s comfortable with ... what else do I need to know.”

“Shit.”

I laughed, “Are you just wanting to pretend to be a virgin?”

“I guess, but I’m grading your performance and we’re starting at the kissing into second base territory.”

“I played baseball for a year and I still don’t understand that shit.”

“First base is kissing. Second is being allowed access to my breasts. Third is getting your fingers wet. And a homerun is getting your dick wet.”

‘Ok ... so basically foreplay pop quiz. I’m down.”

Thursday:

“Then I had a good time with a friend on Monday. Tuesday ... I nearly fucked up a relationship.”

“I didn’t know you were dating anyone?”

“I’m not, but my stupidity knows no bounds sometimes.”

Tuesday:

After practice I found myself sandwiched between Jill and Stacy in Jill’s truck, “You sure about this, Ginger Princess?”

Stacy whined, “What is it with you and the nicknames? Either way, I said I’d do it, so we’ll do it.”

“Still time to back out.”

Jill tsked, “Don’t. I’ve been working her up to this for almost a month and it’s going to be hot.”

An hour later we were locked in Jill’s bedroom. I’d told Jill to stay off the bed and that had her sitting in a wooden chair at her desk watching. Stacy was nude, but anxious despite having just gotten off on my tongue, “I know you’re secret, Ginger Princess.”

“Bullshit!” she fired back.

“I figured it out the first time you blew me without Jill’s help ... you’re as Bi as every other member of the squad ... you just don’t want to admit it.”

“I’m not ... I just love Jill and she wants to watch this.”

I pointed at my blonde beauty and then moved my finger to my lips before continuing to be the barker for the promenade, “She knows, you know. She knows how wet you are for ME. She knows how much you want ME to fuck you ... She’s watching. She wants you to be happy ... she wants you to admit the truth ... you can have it all ... all you have to do is say the magic word...”

“Please...”

I motioned for Jill to come join us as Stacy clenched her eye shut. I brought my lips to hers and entered her at the same time. I was slow and gentle. Jill crawled over me to get a bird’s eye view as Stacy began to whimper below me.

“Jill loves you, that’s why she’s happy you finally get what you wanted ... tell her ... tell her how it feels.”

Stacy bit her lip. She didn’t want to give it voice, even as her body responded to my ministrations. Jill encouraged her, “I know it feels good, baby. You look so beautiful. Just say it.”

Stacy whimpered again and I increased my pace. Jill’s hands began to explore the tiny mounds Stacy was blessed with. After a minute, she pinched a nipple, “Say it, baby.”

Stacy finally broke, “It’s good.” And Jill leaned down to kiss her.

Thursday:

“But most of that damage wasn’t done till yesterday and I managed to keep Beth from doing something stupid before we all went home happy.”

Wednesday:

As I walked into the auditorium, I pointed at Stacy who was doing her standard warm up exercises, “Come with me Ginger princess.”

She hesitated but followed me to the alcove with the mats. Over the past few weeks I had either Jill (her girlfriend) or Lis here every day after practice. I sat down on the mats and she sat down next to me.

“So, I’m just to come when you call now?” She actually sounded like she was asking, not trying to tear me a new hole. She honestly expected me to just pull her back and use her at my discretion, regardless of her wishes.

“We need to talk Stacy.”

“About what.”

“What we did to you last night was a mistake. Jill told me you had a breakdown after I went home.”

“I told you to do it.”

“But you didn’t want me to.”

“I did ... I’m just. I’m not ready to deal with that.”

“That you enjoyed it?”

“That I may not be a lesbian.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re bi. I know you get wet for me. You may be 99 percent lesbian, but you’re a little bit bi.”

She hissed, “And I hate that!” I gave her a moment to figure out what she wanted to say. Eventually, she broke the silence, “Did Jill tell you about realizing she loved me?”

“A bit.”

“I always knew I liked girls. Always. I never wanted to get married. I wanted to be the prince or the knight that got to kiss the girl. Since, you joined the squad you’ve been pushing at my boundaries. Pushing at who I’ve always ‘known’ I was ... and you might be right. I may be bi, but I’m just ... I’m not ready to deal with it. I guess we’ll keep doing it and I may get used to it, but it feels great in the moment, but I don’t like how it made me feel after ... like I wasn’t me.”

“I will not have sex with you again.”

“But she wants it.”