Chapter 18: Getting Ready

THE FIRST THING I did when I got to school Monday morning was ask Chris to the prom. Then Mr. Turner started economics class right at the stroke of 7:25 and she couldn’t answer. I suppose kids in some schools might just keep talking when class starts, but it didn’t work that way in our classes. If we were really careful, we could pass a note back and forth, but you didn’t dare try something like that with Mr. Turner.

I still remembered back when I was five, I went to school with Deborah. I forget why it was necessary for me to not be around home, but there I was, a five-year-old on the first day of school with my sister in seventh or eighth grade. South Chicago had always been a working class neighborhood, but it was still at least half white back then. What I remember most is math class with Mr. Hess. There was a big kid in the class and I honestly don’t remember if he was black or white. What I remember was that he was up and wandering around the classroom when Mr. Hess told him to sit down because class had begun. The kid didn’t sit. Mr. Hess came up beside him with a big paddle and swung it hard on the kid’s rump.

“I said to sit down. If you won’t, I’ll make it so you can’t,” Hess said. The big kid sat down and stayed there through the rest of the class.

You might think it was weird that a five-year-old could remember the incident down to the name of the teacher. It made an impression and eight years later, I had Mr. Hess for math and that paddle was still hanging behind his desk next to the blackboard.

Anyway, as soon as the bell rang, I joined Chris on the walk to Miss Kellogg’s English class.

“I remembered you said right after spring break was the right time to ask you to the prom,” I said.

“Um ... No,” she answered.

“No, not the right time?” I asked.

“No, I can’t go with you. I have a date.”

“You have a...? Wow. That kind of came out of left field.”

“No, it didn’t. Not really. Ronda asked me after our big date when we did our photo session. I agreed to go with her. As a couple.”

“Oh. I was thinking we’d do what we did last year,” I said as we walked into English class.

“You have another girlfriend this year,” Christine whispered. “You need to ask her.”

I didn’t really hear much of what Miss Kellogg had to say that day. Another girlfriend. I was pretty sure Chris was not referring to Beth in Chicago. In fact, I’d already agreed to go to her prom, which wasn’t until the week after our graduation. Patricia was staying as much out of the public eye as she could and that ruled out prom. That could only mean Anna. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take Anna. I’d just been hoping for another all night lovemaking party with Chris and Ronda.

“What if I wanted to ask someone else?” I asked petulantly as Chris and I walked to statistics. She stopped in the middle of the hall and pulled me around to look at her.

“Nate, do you mean to tell me you really don’t want to take Anna to the prom? That ... I think she might be really hurt.”

“That’s not it. I just already had a bunch of stuff in mind for you and Ronda and me. It will all be different with Anna,” I said.

“Different, but not less fun,” Chris said. “Last year she went to the prom with two gay guys. I think she’d like her boyfriend to be the one this year. You’ll both have more fun.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I was being an ass. Please don’t mention this conversation to Anna.”

“That shows some smarts. When are we going to get a report on your week with Elizabeth?” Chris asked as we stepped into class and found our seat.

“You won’t believe it. I saw her Wednesday after school and that was all.”

“Why?”

“Christine, don’t you read the newspaper? Chicago was full of riots. I couldn’t just pick her up and go park somewhere. There wasn’t anywhere safe,” I said.

“I didn’t know.”

“Tell you about it at lunch.”

I didn’t tell her about it at lunch. And I didn’t ask Anna to the prom at lunch. Patricia caught me just before I got to the cafeteria and asked me to come to the office with her.

“I’ve been summoned to see the principal. You know what that means, Nate? They’re going to throw me out. I’ve been trying to hide it, but the bump is too big to keep hidden. Mrs. Ingham reported me, I’m sure. I haven’t been able to do everything in gym class. What am I going to do?” she asked as she held my hand on the way to the office in a blatant disregard for the PDA rules.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, honey. I think I have a way. I’m here with you.”

“Thank you.”

We got to the principal’s office and had to wait five minutes before Mr. Reichman could see us. It was worse. Mrs. Abernathy, the assistant principal-guidance counselor was also in the office.

“I’m sure you know what this is about Patricia,” Reichman started. “I’m surprised to see you here, Nate. Are you the father of Miss Berg’s child?”

“No, sir. I’m her friend and...”

“Well, moral support is good, but school policy is firm against allowing pregnant students in class once it becomes known that she is pregnant. You are pregnant, are you not, Patricia?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, Mrs. Abernathy has information that will help you finish your schooling if you desire to do so, but you can’t do it here. The school board has determined that unwed mothers are both a distraction and a bad influence on other girls.”

“Sir. Patricia is Mrs. Anthony Kowalski. She is not an unwed mother. Private Anthony Kowalski, known here as Tony, was a 1967 graduate of Tenbrook High School who paid the ultimate price in action on January second this year. He was laid to rest in Tenbrook Cemetery with full military honors on January twelfth. Tony died not even knowing that his young wife was pregnant. It would be the utmost of disrespect to an American hero to insist that his widow be denied her education at Tenbrook simply because she is pregnant. I am prepared with documentation and photographs to take the story to the county newspapers if this decision is carried through,” I said.

“Patricia, were you married to Tony Kowalski?” Reichman asked. He carefully ignored my other comments.

“Yes, sir. On June twenty-seventh, 1967. I will celebrate my first anniversary crying on his grave.”

Reichman looked at Mrs. Abernathy who pointedly looked away. He sighed.

“This is a matter of policy, and therefore needs to be reviewed by the school board for a decision. Therefore, I’m delaying all action on this issue until the school board has reviewed the facts and passed down a decision. Until that time, there will be no change in your status as a student in this school,” he said. “I’m not a heartless tyrant, Patricia. I know you and Tony were inseparable for his last two years here. We all grieved at the news that he was gone and now I share my condolences with you. I will suggest to the school board that reviewing this matter is a low priority.”

“Thank you, sir,” Patricia said through her tears.

“I believe,” Mrs. Abernathy said, “that you could use an extra study hall in order to be sure your studies are kept up to date. Why don’t we move you out of Physical Education and into study hall that period?”

“That would be very kind, Mrs. Abernathy. Thank you.”

We stood to go.

“Nate,” Mr. Reichman stopped me. I turned to face him. “Sometimes, simply bringing the facts to light is enough to get action. It does not always need to be accompanied by threats.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was a very hard week and I spoke with more anger than the situation merited,” I said.

“Was there trouble this week?” he asked.

“Sir, are you not aware that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated? I was in Chicago all week patrolling neighborhoods to keep peace with members of the major gangs on the South Side. They needed some white guys with them.”

He just sat there with his mouth open and finally waved me out of the room. In the outer office, Patricia turned to hug me. It was too late to make it to lunch, so we just headed to class.

I didn’t get to see Anna until after school. By that time, news had made it to all our friends that Patricia was being allowed to stay in school.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Anna asked as soon as I asked to walk her home. “You went with her to the office at lunchtime. You convinced them to let her stay in school.”

“It didn’t really take much. They knew she was pregnant, but they didn’t know she was married to Tony. The principal has shuffled it off to the school board and told them the matter was not urgent.”

“Somehow, I can’t believe all you did was tell him they were married,” she laughed. “So how was your week in Chicago?”

“Horrid,” I said. I walked her up to her door and held her hand to prevent her from going in. “Anna, can we just sit for a minute?”

“Sure, Nate. Is something wrong?”

“I was kind of short with Chris this morning and then nearly lost my temper entirely in Principal Reichman’s office. You’re right that I didn’t just point out the facts. I threatened to take the entire story to the newspaper with documentation of their marriage, Tony’s honorable action in service, and photographs from the wedding and the funeral. I was really mad.”

“What started it all, honey?”

“They killed Dr. King. Out here, no one seems to understand what that means. According to the news this morning, a three-mile swath of Oak Grove is still on fire. Woodlawn is a mess. Mayor Daley ordered police to shoot to kill rioters. And we all sit out here in white bread Tenbrook like nothing happened. Our one colored person in our entire school was killed in fucking Vietnam and the school wanted to throw his widow out of school because she’s carrying their child.”

I was upset enough that tears were running down my cheeks. I suppose I was still suffering from sleeplessness. I’d been up working all day Friday and walked the streets all night Friday and all day Saturday until I went to the studio and developed photos for the newspaper. Then I had a short sleep and fueled an early drive back to Tenbrook for Easter service with enough coffee to keep me awake late Sunday night.

“There’s more,” she whispered.

I told her about walking the streets with people from my old school, the curfew on everyone under eighteen, the army and National Guard showing up. How we kept the South Side peaceful just by being a visible presence and talking people down who wanted to go kill whitey.

“This isn’t even what I wanted to do when I walked you home tonight,” I said.

“Oh? What did you have in mind? We can only have a little kiss here on the front porch,” she giggled.

“I wanted to ask you to the prom,” I said.

“Me? You’d take me to the prom? I thought ... I mean ... Yes! I’d love to be your date to the prom. I’d love to, Nate!” The little kiss on the front porch that she alluded was some serious kissing. By the time she was finished with my mouth, we were both feeling better.

“Was that a marriage proposal?” Mr. Marx asked from the doorway.

“Better!” Anna responded. “He asked me to the prom!”

“That’s ... Oh ... It’s ... uh ... dinnertime.” He turned and left us. Anna kissed me again and went inside. I felt a lot better by the time I got home.

I had a yearbook meeting on Wednesday to go over the plans for the rest of the year and what photos needed to be taken yet. I was really only there for show. Anna kept the log of all the photos and what had been turned in so far. We’d done a pretty good job of getting everything in. A couple of seniors had not yet turned in their senior photo selections. It seemed Janice was holding onto hers until Judy had hers selected and Judy’s photo session wasn’t for ten days yet. It would still make the end of April deadline, though.

“We need to show all Nate’s photos from this year, again,” Donna Reichert said.

She was this year’s yearbook editor and had been adamant about me being the senior portrait photographer. I could also personally verify that she had really nice tits and a dark brown bush that belied her blonde hair color. We’d had a very nice photo session, and she became one of the girls who fueled the rumor that I could make a girl orgasm without actually touching her. Of course, I did touch her, but I think her orgasm had more to do with her expectation than with anything I actually did.

“Isn’t there a way we can do an exhibition before the middle of summer? I know seniors who won’t be here mid-summer for the party who would really like to see the whole exhibition,” Donna continued.

“That’s an interesting idea,” Miss Sullivan said. “I’ll check with the administration to see if we can arrange an exhibit, say the last week of school, right after graduation.”

“Does it have to be only what he’s taken for the yearbook?” Anna asked. “As good as these photos are, they don’t come close to showing the range of artistry Nate has in his photography.”

“Even if we could just show what is in his studio gallery, that would be incredible,” Donna enthused. “Those prize-winners are incredible!”

“You should see some of the Attic Allure photos he’s taken this year, both at the studio here in town and at his new studio in Chicago. Did you know he was in Chicago last week taking photos during the riots?” Anna asked.

“Um ... Please don’t make a big deal out of that. I was taking pictures of the peace and not the riots,” I said.

“I’m in agreement regarding the concept,” Miss Sullivan said. “I’m concerned about getting school permission for a full showing of Nate’s work. And I would hate to subject it to school censorship.”

“How about doing the show at the studio?” Grace asked. She had been a beautiful model and one of the first to come to the studio for her portrait and Attic Allure photo. “And even though you don’t have a full model release for me, I for one would give one-time special permission to display my Attic Allure photo. I think there are others who would do the same.”

“I actually work in the studio. I suppose I could hold an open house one day, but I’m set up for taking photos, not displaying them. I’m completely out of room on my gallery wall,” I said. And I was as worried about people seeing the full range of the pictures I displayed as Miss Sullivan appeared to be.

“The second floor is empty,” Anna speculated. “It would require Mr. Barkley’s permission and a hard-working cleaning crew to get it ready.”

“I’d volunteer,” Grace said.

“Me, too,” Donna added. “I’ll bet we could get most of the girls who have been to the studio to help.”

Anna leaned next to Donna and whispered to her so none of the rest of us could hear. I saw Donna’s eyes get wide.

“Oh, God, yes! Now I know I could get a crew together!”

“Nate, if you will commit to showing your work, I’ll take a committee to meet with Mr. Barkley and get his permission,” Grace said.

All I could do was nod.

Grace was a force of nature when she got things organized. It was a little funny because she was the second of my female classmates to pose for me for a senior portrait and glamour shot. The rumors that got girls started thinking they could get an orgasm with their picture hadn’t even started.

She and Donna got three other girls to go with them, including Pris and Janice, to talk to Mr. Barkley about using the second floor of the store for a gallery showing. They had to promise to do a complete cleaning of the space and move the various display shelves into a corner so I could display pictures all over the new gallery. They even promised to paint the walls if Mr. Barkley would provide paint.

My usual eight girlfriends and models were joined by ten other senior girls for the cleaning party the next day. I was told to stay out and girls would come upstairs to clean the studio, too. Okay. I had a lot of work to do to get ready for a massive showing. Miss Sullivan had said she would assist in making a catalog, but she wasn’t planning to come around while the girls were organized under their own volition.

The first time I came out of the darkroom, I saw three of my classmates mopping the floors and putting away props. One was Anna. The other two were Donna and Roxie. All three were cleaning with their bare asses up in the air. They were completely naked. When she noticed I was there, Anna jumped up to meet me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Cleaning,” she answered innocently.

“But, they’re...”

“Just like always,” Anna said, exasperatedly. “Just say ‘Attic Allure’ and girls’ clothes start falling off. I just don’t understand what gets into these girls. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. You just can’t control them.”

During that entire little speech, Anna was planting little kisses on my lips and I was caressing her bare boobs. I even dragged a finger through her slit and tasted it in front of her.

“You need to take me out again soon,” she said. “You’ve tasted me, but I haven’t tasted you. Chris and Ronda say that’s almost the best part.”

“You mean...”

“I mean, I want to give you a blowjob. Wow! Is that specific enough? Do I need to say, I want to put your cock in my mouth and suck on you until you come and I drink down all your semen? Is that better?”

“Anna! Where’d my innocent little girlfriend go?”

“The one who stupidly wouldn’t kiss you until she was seventeen and then almost lost her chance? I think you corrupted her. And you know what? I don’t mind a bit. In fact, I’m hoping you intend to complete her corruption after prom!” she said.

I just stood and stared at her with my mouth open. She stuck her tongue in it and dragged my hand back to her breasts. I was lost.

“And,” she continued, “if those two girls don’t get kisses and touches while they’re up here, we’ll have an all-out cleaning rebellion.”

Oh, my!

Anna went back to cleaning as I attempted to get my cock shoved into a respectable position in my trousers. Not likely. I started spreading proof sheets out on the table and marking what I intended to print new for the exhibition. Miss Sullivan was coming to the studio Tuesday afternoon to go over the complete catalog, which she intended to have printed. She would want titles for everything, and I hoped my girlfriends would all join me after my session with Patricia tomorrow evening to help title them. She said something about setting prices for signed prints, as well. Wow!

There was a little tap on my shoulder and I turned directly into Roxie’s naked arms. The kiss she gave me absolutely sizzled and I had her boobs in my hands in no time. I bent down to give each of them a little suck and lick before we ever said anything.

“Um ... No sex in the studio, right? I mean, if there is, you can do me right here on the table, you know.”

“No. No sex in the studio, Roxie. Haven’t you found a guy yet?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t know if we’re in it for the long haul, but Brad has really picked up on the training. He was pretty clueless when I did him a couple of years ago, but I excuse him as having only been a sophomore. The boy has learned some tricks. I promised him a wild ride after prom if he keeps treating me the way he is,” Roxie said.

“Well good. I’m glad to know your little pussy isn’t being neglected,” I laughed.

“No, but until he decides he wants to put a ring on my finger, it’s still available if you run out of girls to fuck,” she said.

“Roxie, as much fun as I had fucking you, it’s tempting. But my plate is full.”

“An all-you-can eat buffet, huh? Well, another little lick of my tits? Please?”

What could I do but lean down to her nipples and suckle on them until she finally pushed me away? Damn, she was fine.

I saw Roxie and Anna head downstairs as Donna approached me. I opened my arms and she rushed into them, lifting her lips for an immediate kiss. I obliged.

Donna was a little bustier than most girls in our school. Not overbuilt by any stretch, but she had a lot to grab onto. Which I did.

“Oh, God! Remind me again what it was like,” she said. “How did you suck on my tits? Oh, yeah! That was the way.” After a minute of sucking on her, I kissed her again. “You know, Nate, when I came for my picture ... and came after my picture,” she giggled, “you did a great job on my boobs, but I kind of carried the load down below. You could help a girl out a little. You know?”

There wasn’t anything to say in answer to that. I went back to sucking on her tits and got my fingers between her legs to drag up through her abundant lubrication and circle her clit. I didn’t know how long I’d have before other girls trooped upstairs, but I figured I should make the best of this time with my editor while I had it. I think I surprised her when I lifted her up on the table, but she didn’t complain when I spread her legs and got down on my knees to feast at her honeyed opening.