Chapter 8

Becky broke the dreadful silence as she, Jason, and Bubba drove back to town from the encounter with Jess.

"This is the most outrageous thing I have ever been part of. Here's this wild boy who lives in the woods, for crying out loud. His father is a drunk who sleeps with his chainsaw. His grandmother is all the family he has and she obviously supports his hiding out from the government and the school authorities. He hasn't changed clothes in maybe months or years. He lurks around a millpond doing god knows what all day. And, what do the three of us do? We promise him anything! Only to find out that all he wants is to see a NAKED girl! Jesus! How perverted and generally fucked up is that? I will never understand men as long as I live!"

Jason and Bubba withstood Becky's rant and remained silent. The dread silence returned.

Almost rhetorically Bubba muttered, "Who are we going to talk into getting naked for him?"

"You're not actually going to... to... do... I mean we can't keep that promise... can we?" said Becky.

"We need a prostitute or something?" ventured Jason.

"Oh, my god," sighed Becky.

"Right, sure thing, Jason," laughed Bubba. "You know any prostitutes around here? NO! The closest thing to a prostitute in our town is the mayor's wife and that's because she wears 50 pounds of make-up and sleeps with her brother-in-law."

"She does?" squeaked Becky.

"I'm kidding. Ok? Just kidding!" sighed Bubba. "Nevertheless, there are no prostitutes available for duty."

"Maybe somebody like Vicki would do it, if we asked her the right way. I mean we have seen her naked and all." Jason obviously was running down a mental list of all the girls in town.

"Jesus, Jason, I can't believe we are even entertaining this idea," said Becky.

"We promised!" said Bubba. "We all promised and I, for one, am a man of my word."

"Me too," agreed Jason. "He probably saved lives, Becks. We owe him big time!"

"Yeah, right, but you are not the one who he wants to see naked," retorted Becky.

With those words, both Bubba and Jason turned and stared at Becky. The little bright idea light bulbs were almost visible over each of their heads.

"What?" said Becky.

Then the realization hit her.

"Wait, no... you aren't thinking what I know you are thinking... no way. Impossible! I am not going out there and I'm not taking off my clothes in front of some sex crazed, boy in the woods. No way!"

Both boys continued to stare.

"Jesus H. Christ, why do I hang out with you two? You two have been getting me in trouble all of my life. I am a good girl until I get around the likes of you. Well, I am drawing the line right here. So, forget it."

Jason began to reason. "How bad could it be? He apparently has seen you practically naked before. It's not as if he requested sex or something. All you do is take off your clothes, let him look, put back on your clothes, wish him a happy life, and its done... and we, that includes you, Becky, have kept our solemn promise... before God."

"Jason Hill, you can turn off those sad puppy eyes... you to Reginald Johnson!" Becky crossed her arms in disgust.

She's pissed now, thought Bubba. She only calls me Reginald when she is really pissed.

Bubba's eyes suddenly lit up. "Remember the day you showed us your breasts at the millpond, Becky?"

"Yes, and I don't want to talk about it... ever!"

"Wait," urged Bubba. "That didn't hurt, right? A little moment and it was over, right? No one ever found out, right? It wasn't bad... as a matter of fact, we thought it was great and I think you didn't mind it either."

"What are you implying, Bubba Johnson?"

"Nothing. I'm just suggesting that this will be no big deal, just like that was no big deal, in the grand scheme of things."

"And, what happens when I get my clothes off and he decides he can't control himself and he tries to rape me or something."

"We'll be there to protect you," said Bubba.

He instantly regretted those words.

"Oh... now I see... now I'm doing a strip show for the whole group. You guys didn't go out there and talk that boy into saying all this, did you? He's not really some orthodontist's son from the next county who just likes wearing dirty clothes... and conspiring to see girls naked?" Becky's eyes were flashing.

"No, cross my heart and hope to die, Becky," said Jason.

"There's bound to be some other way out of this mess," sighed Becky.

Three long days later, Bubba's Chevy was winding its way back to the millpond.

"If we can't find that little shit out there, then this is over, understand?" shouted Becky.

Jason and Bubba nodded affirmatively.

"And another thing, if either of you ever make fun of me for this, I'll kill both of you. I promise you painful deaths. I cannot believe I let you two talk me into this. I am an idiot. This is taking the terms of friendship too far. And, I swear... neither one of you gets to look... not one little peek. If you hear me scream, I want both of you there in a nanosecond. God, this is horrible. The kid is a delinquent, for Christ's sake. And, I'm... I'm... my god, I am doing a private strip show. Shit!"

Jason and Bubba remained quiet. Both secretly thought this was one of the greatest of their many adventures, but neither wanted Becky to know. The idea of getting naked for Jess had been a very hard sell. Finally Becky had consented, but no one, even Becky, was sure yet if she would actually go through with it.

Becky grew tired of ranting and slipped into silence in the backseat. She had refused to join the boys in the front seat for the trip.

"There won't be trouble, Becks. We'll see to that, we promise," said Jason.

Becky began to allow the scenario to happen in her mind. She had played the same scene over and over mentally the night before and had finally ended up masturbating in her bed. In her dream, she envisioned herself standing in front of Jess. Slowly she would begin taking off her clothes. She felt ashamed and excited at the same time. The more clothes she removed the more excited she got. Then, again and again in her dreams, she saw Jason peeking at her from somewhere behind Jess. Instead of her expected rage or shock, she became even more excited watching him watch her. Her pussy began to tingle as she pulled herself out of the dream only to start back at the beginning.

Why is this so exciting? I should be ashamed, but I'm not, she thought to herself. Am I a slut? No, I'm not. I'm a good girl. But, I can't control the excitement of this. It has to be sick or something if a person gets excited being naked in front of other people. Oh god, I am an exhibitionist.

Similar thoughts flooded through her mind. The flow was so intense that she felt almost overwhelmed by it.

Before she knew it, their car was turning into the sharecropper house's drive. Jason hopped out of the car and banged on the door. There was no answer.

"Jess! You here? It's Jason." Jason's voice echoed through the dense woods.

Jason walked slowly back to the car.

"Not here, I guess," he said.

"Ok, that's it. Let's go home," said Becky. Her hands already were trembling.

"He's probably down by the pond," surmised Bubba. "Becky, we at least have to look."

The trip from the sharecropper house to the pond was only a couple of miles, but, to all three youths, it seemed to take an eternity. Finally, they arrived at the placid lake. It was almost like glass in its stillness. Nothing tarnished its pristine surface.

Bubba stopped the car and got out. "Jess, are you here?" he shouted. "We've come to see you. It's just us."

Just then a dirty figure appeared on the porch of the old mill house.

"Jess, we are here like we promised."

Jess motioned for them to come up to the house.

"Oh, shit," said Becky under her breath. "I can't believe that I am doing this!"

Becky, Jason, and Bubba made their way along the circuitous path to the house. Vines encroached from every direction. The thick aroma of honeysuckle was everywhere. Old tin cans dotted the trail here and there.

The three kids found their way inside the ram-shackled house. Bright sun shown through the very large hole in the largely empty living room's ceiling. The smell of honeysuckle was replaced by the acrid odor of an old weary house.