Chapter 22: Show and Tell, It's a Game...

I stared at him for so long he nervously raised a hand toward his face, glancing around as if to look in a mirror.

"What?!" he demanded. "Have I got spinach in my teeth or something?"

"You're right," I replied slowly.

"Huh?"

"You're right," I repeated. "I'm not you." Then I added, "And you're not me."

A smile spread across his face as I went on, "I'm really Patricia Johnson. And you're Patrick O'Donnell. And just what are you grinning about?"

"It hit me the other day when I was with Julie. I finally realized that this," he said, patting his chest with both hands, "is me."

"And you have memories of my past, and I have yours," he went on, "but the other memories I have belong to neither of us, because they haven't happened, and," he said solemnly, "I am going to do my utmost to make sure they never happen!"

Einstein was right.

I was no longer Patrick O'Donnell. I didn't look like him, feel like him, hell, I didn't even think like him any more. All I had left of who I had been were some memories that belonged to neither of us.

I was Patricia Johnson. My future was not preordained; I could change whatever I liked. Hell, I had been doing that since I first woke up in her body, as Einstein had been doing with my previous body. I could only pray I was doing as good a job with my second chance as Einstein was with his.

We sat in Einstein's room for a while trading sexual innuendos, much to Wendy's delight. She totally accepted the fact that while we were all technically and physically 14, Einstein and I had nearly a century of experience between us. Sure, we could have talked about historical things, things that were to come, that no matter what we did we couldn't change, but all we really remembered were the sad things.

How could either of us let the Americans know that in 1983 the shuttle Challenger would be destroyed because of a seal failure? Who would pay attention to someone not yet 25? Set back a multi-billion dollar program on the word of someone not involved in the American space program? Nope, we could try, maybe getting close to someone who would be listened to, but the sad fact was that we would live through those tragedies again.

We'd be older by September 2001, but that didn't mean we'd be able to do anything. At least we had 26 years to think about it. Maybe we might be able to do something about some tragedies in time. For now, we realized, reluctantly, nobody was going to take two 14-year-old kids seriously.

This was something I had really wrestled with, as the useless death of John Lennon still haunted me. But Mark Chapman had tried twice to get close to Lennon; this might only set him back just one more time. Would the first President Bush listen to a Canadian in 1990 if we advised him to continue his push into Iraq until he unseated Saddam? Highly doubtful, which meant that his son would take the US into another war with Iraq in 2003.

These were the things Einstein and I had discussed many times through the last week. I know Mike and Ann were wondering about the amount of time Wendy and I were spending at Linda and Julie's house, but nothing we did gave them cause for concern. I think that Ann was hoping I might become attracted to Einstein, but it also worried her, as she still believed I shouldn't date until I was 16!

On those evening visits or after school rendezvous at Linda and Julie's, Einstein and I took advantage of some time to talk alone. Wendy, Linda, and Julie, having been blown away by our admissions, understood this was a time for Einstein and I to make some serious decisions. What we had finally decided on, and it wasn't an easy decision, was to do the best for those we could help. Spoon feeding information when it seemed right to do so. We knew that money would not be a big issue for either of our families or us in another ten years. While the stock market is a dangerous game for small time players, we knew the major stocks that would be growing such as Microsoft, IBM etc., and when to get out of them. We would earn what we could, invest and advise when we could, but more importantly, we could prepare ourselves to take better care of ourselves and our families for the turbulent times that lay ahead. In the meantime, we could really enjoy this second chance at being teens in a time when there was so many exciting changes taking place and we would not suffer from the normal teenage angst.

Rita called us to supper, and I sat down with my new extended family. Wendy, as she always would, sat by my side, and Einstein took his place beside her. Father Ed said Grace, and we dug into Linda's homemade lasagna! This was excellent lasagna! The steaming loaves of garlic bread that Julie had baked with its dripping, melted mozzarella cheese drove me nuts! The smell was so enticing. I ribbed Wendy that we would have to take up another sport if we kept eating this well. Tom and Rita smiled. Ann said that if we got any thinner, we would have to be put in the hospital! I looked at Einstein and he winked. Little did anyone know that the days of well-rounded girls were coming to an end. By 1990, thin was in.

I looked at my parents. Mike and Ann. Yes, "my parents." I made a promise to myself that I would never hurt them or disappoint them. The smiles on their faces showed how happy they were, and though I had not known Linda and Julie before, they beamed. No one questioned their relationship in this, our extended family, and I knew that there would be many, many more family meals and outings, and we would of course always include Father Ed.

Linda and Julie had brought Chianti to serve with supper, and after a bit of playful bantering between the parents, Wendy, Einstein, and I were allowed a glass as well. It had been a while since I last had Chianti and I was overwhelmed by the burst of flavors on my unspoiled tongue. I was now more sure than ever that I would not take up smoking in this lifetime!

After a meal filled with fun chatter and jokes and laughter, the parents retired to the living room and us three kids volunteered to do the dishes. It was funny, because, even though I had supposedly never set foot in this house before, I knew where to put everything.

One thing that was really pleasant, that I realized broke up a lot of families in the decades to come, there were no pay per view television events or movie networks or videotapes. When we finished cleaning up, Einstein put on a pot of coffee and a pot of tea, and we joined the parents in the living room for good old fashioned conversation.

When Wendy and I finished brushing our teeth that night and had kissed and hugged Ann and Mike goodnight, we shucked our nightgowns and cuddled in bed, skin against bare skin.

"You've changed, Pete," Wendy said, as we lay wrapped in each other.

"Hmm?" I enquired fuzzily.

"You're more yourself, I guess, like all of a sudden you're inside you instead of being a bit outside like you used to be."

I lay quietly thinking for a few moments as her words sunk in. "Yah, Einstein was right. I finally realized that this is who I am, and I rather like being me." I kissed her nose and gave her a little squeeze. "And I'm the luckiest girl in the world 'cause I got you," I added as I grabbed a firm butt cheek.

She giggled, then asked, "What did it feel like to have a thing?"

I laughed. "A thing?"

"You know," she said, digging me in the ribs where she knew I was ticklish. "A penis."

"Oh," I said, "You mean what did it feel like to have a cock? A big fat hard juicy cock?"

She giggled. Wendy loved it when I talked dirty!

"I can't really describe it, Honey," I said. "It's like asking what it feels like to have a pussy. It's just there. Fun to play with, but you can't do it all day long."

"If I had one," she said, "I'd probably play with it all day long."

I laughed again as I told her how I had tried that when I first discovered I had a pussy of my own, but that the fun part was playing with somebody else's.

"I'd like to play with Patrick's for a while," sighed Wendy as she moved down to take my nipple in her mouth. All this talk was turning me on, and I started thinking again about having Einstein's cock inside of me.

"Maybe we'll do that this week before Julie spoils him," I said. "I can teach you how to give him a blowjob."

"You mean take it in my mouth?" asked Wendy, suddenly sitting straight up.

"Yeah," I said, thinking about it more. "I've never done it to a guy, but I know that Einstein has a nice cock, and I wouldn't mind trying it either."

"You are so wicked," she said as she crawled back under the sheets to get to my dripping snatch.

On Monday we took a long walk down Dundas Street. From the downtown section as it was known, near the Farmer's Market close to the river, all the way to the uptown section past Adelaide. It was a long walk, but the weather was nice, and all we were really doing was window-shopping anyway.

With the increase in business that Mike had coming his way thanks to the contract with St. Ursula's, he was starting to make some real money. Einstein told me that Mike had always made a comfortable living, but not a rich one. It was one of the quirks of this timeline, just one of those things which changed because of the changes in Einstein and me. And since in this life, I wasn't living at home, they had fewer expenses as well. Of course Ann changing careers was boosting home income too and every day we went out, Ann would slip me ten dollars to pay for lunch. Of course ten dollars was way more than we needed, but when I tried to give back the change, Ann always refused it. Mike had started to give both Wendy and me an allowance as well, not that we could spend it at school, but it was still nice to have some money of our own.

About six months later, Social Services sent someone to do a follow up on Wendy and her new foster home, and discovered that Mike and Ann had never filed for financial assistance. They tried to say at the time that they didn't need it, but the caseworker made such a fuss over it, saying "It's against all the rules - we have to pay you," so Mike finally gave in. Social Services paid them from the day that Wendy was liberated to the day she graduated from University seven years later and every penny went into a bank account they opened for her.

We ate a light lunch at one of the many family owned restaurants near the Western Fair grounds, spent some time looking at the horses as they did their exercise runs around the track and then stepped on a bus for a scenic ride around Oxford Street. Since we were wearing our school jackets, we rode for free and sat up front with the driver who was talking about sending his daughter to our school. We transferred buses and ended up at 4:00 walking down Richmond to Central Ave to Linda and Julie's house.

Mike's shop was actually not too far from where Linda and Julie lived. He had a little storefront operation on Richmond Street before you hit the busy and expensive retail section of downtown. Our house on Maitland Street was on the south side of the CNN tracks that cut through the city, while Einstein lived on the north side of the tracks on Dufferin Avenue. It seemed funny that we had lived within walking distance of each other for 14 years and had never crossed paths, but that was the way London was, divided by rivers and railroads, each section having more than enough parks and shops that people didn't feel the need to go far from home.

We stopped in to say 'Hi' to Mike, and tease him about his taste in music. As I looked around, I spied a shape of polished wood and dark material in the corner, familiar from so long ago.

"Daddy," I squealed. (Yes, I actually squealed!) I looked at him, beaming. "Daddy, you didn't tell me you had these speakers!"

I looked back at them, missing, (so Wendy told me later), his puzzled look. And then almost shuddered. They were both mounted on their custom stands, one piled on top of the other, I went and carefully lifted the top one to the floor, then examined the cabinet of the supporting one for scratches.

I turned to Mike. "Really shouldn't stack them eh."

"Pardon?" was his puzzled rejoinder.

"Oh, they... err," I trailed off. I was about to tell him I had heard there were tales of the slim, stylish stands breaking... "Err, they just look, err... delicate, ah... Daddy," I said sweetly, "What's the biggest amplifier you have here?"

"Ah, I have this Marantz here that I've been hot testing for a customer, why?" he asked, indicating a very large amplifier sitting on the side of the counter with its back to me, thin wires sprouting from the speaker terminals.

I let my eyes follow the wires to the tiny speakers hanging from the walls of the shop. "You've been playing it through those?" I asked incredulously. I looked at him and smiled winsomely. "Daddy," I asked, and I clasped my hands behind my back and even wiggled a little, (and in a far off corner my brain said 'what are you doing!'), "can I have," I quickly judged the length, "two eight-yard lengths of your heaviest speaker lead, stripped half an inch both ends? Pretty please?"

He wore a slightly stunned look, which quickly faded into amusement as he turned to his workbench in the back. "Okay, Honey, why not?"

Wendy hissed, "Pete? Should you... ?"

I put my arm over her shoulders. "It's all right, Sweetie, I'm just going to give Daddy a surprise."

"But, but!" she sputtered.

"It's okay, Honey," I said, putting my finger to her lips. "I must have read about it sometime, okay?"

She stopped protesting, looking anxiously into my eyes. "I love you, Honey," I whispered, taking my finger from her lips and kissing it. "I won't risk that. But Daddy will like this, okay?"

Her eyes glistened. "I love you too, Pete. Please be careful!"

Mike turned from his workbench, wires in hand. "Remind me again why I'm doing this?" he asked as his strong experienced hands efficiently stripped off the insulation.

"You're indulging your number-one daughter," I smiled. "And I think you'll like the result," I grinned at him and turned to Wendy.

"Would you please take that speaker," I asked, indicating it, "and take it over to the other corner there? Careful, it's heavy." While she did that, I located the active equalizer behind the other speaker, still in its protective box. I powered off the big Marantz 2325 receiver and stripped the tiny speaker wire from the terminals, then carefully plugged in the equalizer's signal and power cables.

Mike handed me the leads, then leaned on the counter to watch fascinated as I attached them to the amplifier terminals. I was attaching the lead to the second speaker when the telephone rang, and Mike reluctantly turned to answer it. I had just positioned it when the front door opened and in came a good-looking man of about 25, heading for the counter.

I gave him the once-over as I quickly stepped up to greet him. Neatly combed dark hair, well dressed in slacks and leather-patched sports coat over a checked open necked shirt, no rings.

"Good afternoon, sir, how may I help you?"

"Hi, I just came to see if my Pioneer turntable is ready yet?"

To the side of me, Mike straightened with the telephone still to his ear, looking at me a little anxiously. I smiled reassuringly at him and scanned the rack beside the counter. I had worked in a few repair shops before and 'CLICK' all of a sudden I remembered the pattern. There's the workbook, there's the receipt book, the job rack and on the repair rack is the gleaming bulk of a Pioneer SL-1200 turntable, an invoice tucked beneath the lid.

"Yep, there it is!"

I carefully moved it to the counter and checked the invoice, my eyes widening as I saw 'Magnesium Head-shell' and 'Shure V-15 Type III Cartridge'. Then I fetched the small case that held the new head-shell and cartridge and placed it on the counter beside the turntable.

"Mr. " - I read his name on the invoice - "Britlin, would you like to ensure it's acceptable before you take it home? I'm sure you'd like to know that your new cartridge is tracking properly. We have the new RCA test record for you to try!"

He thought for just a moment then smiled. "I'd love to!" and he looked at me in such a way...

I blinked, and remembered what I was up to. I handed him the turntable leads and asked him to plug them into the big Marantz.

"Hey, Dad!" I called over to him. He glanced up from where he was doodling on a pad, the receiver to his ear. "Is the arm zeroed with the new cartridge?" He held up one hand, fingers circled in the 'OK' symbol.

"Mr. Britlin, the arm has been zeroed and the correct setting for this cartridge is one and three-quarters grams," I read from the instructions.

He mounted the cartridge, and carefully watched as the arm settled in balance. Of course, then he had to adjust it, and watched in consternation as it slammed against its stops. Another quick fiddle, and it was nearly back where it started, if a little nose up before he screwed the counterweight to 1.75 grams. I passed him the RCA demonstration record, and he placed it on the platter then carefully wiped it with the cloth I handed him. After starting the platter rotating, he lowered the stylus to the record and quickly closed the lightly smoked acrylic cover.

I smiled at him. "Please turn around, Mr. Britlin," I said as I turned the volume control to almost one-third.

His puzzled expression changed to amazed pleasure as the blare of a trumpet fanfare from behind spun him around.

In the four beats of silence that followed, I announced, "These are the Bose 901s."

I knew this man better than he knew himself.

Mr. Britlin was smiling. A big, 'got money burning a hole in my pocket' kind of smile. I might not know everything about being a girl yet, or what made a good lover, or a good daughter, but one thing I did know was men who loved to spend on themselves. I had once been one.

Ah, the legendary Bose 901 Direct/Reflecting speakers. I had fallen in love with them back in 1988 when I heard them at a friend's place. I had even owned a set - briefly - just before I had to settle an outstanding debt. And these I considered the best - the original Series 1.

I had guessed right and these were set up almost perfectly, the rear drivers reflecting off the hard walls of the shop and surrounding us in sound.

Twenty minutes later, we had listened to the entire first side of the record and I was writing up his receipt. Fifty dollars for the cartridge upgrade; the remainder for a brand new matched pair of Bose 901 speakers. He seemed a little skeptical when I assured him that if he had any problems, he could also ring the toll-free number for help.

"They figured that word-of-mouth was the most cost-effective advertising," I said in answer to his question. "So they try to fix any problem before it becomes an issue."

Mike and I helped him to his car with the bulky boxes then watched as he drove off, Mike's arm comfortably over my shoulder.

"Patti-cake, that was amazing!" he marveled. "I thought his head was going to fall off, he was grinning so much! How did you know how to set them up, honey?"

"I read about them while I was in the hospital, Daddy. Someone left a copy of Stereo Review and I was bored and there was a story about them." Well, I wasn't going to really tell him, was I?

(Reviewed in Stereo Review, September 1968. Hospitals and dentist's waiting rooms are, as you know, like the Sargasso Sea of old magazines.)

"I only got them last week," he said, "it was really strange. A rep came in, and almost insisted on leaving some with me. No money, pure consignment, and they pick up return shipping and insurance if they don't sell. I thought they were too expensive, so I only took five sets even though he offered me ten. I don't even know how he got my name," he mused.

"How many things like that have you bought in within the last month or so?" I asked, indicating the big Marantz receiver.

"Ah, well I'd say about a dozen or so, a couple amplifiers, couple turntables, things like that."

"Well, that's probably your answer. One rep talks to another rep, and they're always looking for good, stable outlets. You must have impressed him," I laughed, "he gave you over a thousand dollars worth of speakers!"

"And I have never seen such an easy sale!" he said with a smile, then it faded a little. "But I won't have that amplifier for long, the customer is coming to collect it the day after tomorrow."

"Well, at least you can demonstrate the receiver with the Bose, can't you," I said with a grin. "And then you can see if Marantz will give you a demonstration model! Anyway, that Mr. Britlin, he'll tell his friends, and I'll bet you sell the five sets within a month."

He thought for a moment. "Nah, it'll take ages to get a demonstration amplifier and I'd be lucky to sell them all in six months!"

We were both wrong. The four remaining sets sold in two weeks, two of those sales buying new amplifiers as well! Mike vowed to never underestimate the power of word-of-mouth again!

The Marantz rep must have got wind of the Bose sales, because three weeks later Mike was 'persuaded' to accept a demonstration set of their top components - including their own speakers!

Einstein was waiting for us when we got to Linda and Julie's. He was so comfortable at their place he got up and made tea for Wendy and me.

Once we had our drinks, I explained what the delay had been.

"I'm glad you told him," Einstein said. "I don't have a clue about most of the technology from this time period. But ask me about a Maytag, and I can tell you nearly anything!"

We laughed together realizing we each had unique strengths. Combined, Einstein and I made a formidable team, complementing each other in our areas of knowledge.

"So," I asked. "Has Julie given you any more lessons?"

He blushed.

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you said you didn't get turned on much," I teased.

"I didn't originally," he said, "then I discovered how good it could feel when it's done right."

Linda and Julie laughed.

"So, Julie, are you ready to let Linda have a go with him yet?" I asked.

Julie sighed. "I suppose. I guess I was just enjoying it a bit too much."

"Enough to change back to men?" Wendy asked.

Julie looked shocked. "I never even considered that," she said. "It's just something about Patrick that I never found in a man before."

"And I seriously doubt you'll ever find it in another man," I said. "There just aren't that many men around as good looking or as sensitive."

"Or ones who have the mind and memories of a woman who has had her own experiences with men," said Wendy.

It became very quiet in the room.

"Wendy's right," I said. "It's easy for you to forget because of the way we look and sound, but Einstein and me, we're totally unique."

Linda put her arm around Julie. "It's okay, Honey. I know you love me. That doesn't mean we can't have some fun, does it?"

Julie looked relieved.

"But if you're finished with him for today," said Wendy, "Pete said I might be able to talk Patrick into letting me feel his penis."

"Hey," said Einstein. "I'm not just a sex object, you know."

I laughed. "You are to us," I said.

Wendy had a twinkle in her eye. "You told me that I turn you on, remember?"

Einstein was smiling. "Yes, Wendy, you do. It's just that I'm not that used to showing it around, much less having you ask to touch it."

"Be careful, Wendy," said Julie. "He's got a hair trigger!"

"You don't think I'm going to let her handle this on her own, do you?" I asked. "Wendy and I are going to share him."

"You're welcome to use the bedroom," said Linda.

"I've got to be at the shop in half an hour," Einstein said. "Maybe we should wait for another day?"

"Ha, I doubt if this will take more than five minutes," I said.

Wendy was already standing, so Einstein reluctantly got up, the growing bulge in his jeans obvious to us all. He held his hands out to Wendy and me, and led us to the bedroom.

Einstein sat on the end of the bed, but Wendy quickly pushed him on his back, and clambered up on the bed beside him. She kissed him and then he kissed her back. Wendy blushed and when she came up for air she was flushed.

"Show us your cock," I said seductively.

"Hey, where's the romance?" he asked.

"Wendy's kissing you. There's your romance," I said. And with that I reached down and undid his belt and the top button of his Levi's. Then I slowly pulled down his zipper. Since he was busy pawing my lover, I grabbed hold of his pants and underwear and pulled them down to his knees.

"There you go, Wendy," I said. "All prepped for you."

Wendy looked down and gasped. She had felt it at Fanshaw in the maze, but this was the first time she had seen it in the flesh, so to speak.

"Oh, My, God! It's HUGE!" she said, her eyes as big as saucers.

"No, Honey," I said. "It's a nice size, and it will get even bigger in a couple of years but even then it won't be outside of the normal range. I used to think it was big, but I know that I was only stroking my own ego."

"Can I touch it?" she asked. She was sitting up now just staring at it.

"Can I touch you?" Einstein asked.

Wendy blushed. "I, I don't know. I've never even been seen by a boy!"

"That's okay, Sweetheart," I said. "That's why I'm here to help."

I moved behind Wendy and started to unbutton her blouse. She reached out ever so tentatively and with her index finger pressed on Einstein's prick.

"It's so hard and yet so soft," she said as she pushed it again, amazed at how it sprang back every time she let her finger slide off the end.

"Hold him, Honey," I said, gently nibbling her ear while my fingers finished unbuttoning her.

Wendy stroked it gently, her finger running lightly from the helmet down to the root and watched as it pulsed in time to his heartbeat. Then she did it again, all her fingers this time, reveling in the touch.

"It feels so soft, Pete!" she said again in wonderment.

"Hold it, Honey, take it in your hand."

Wendy moaned at what I was doing to her, and Einstein moaned as her fingers wrapped around his engorged cock, his breathing erratic. I undid her front closing bra and her tits sprang free, her nipples hard and extended. I took Einstein's hand and put it on Wendy's tit, while I massaged her other one, still nibbling on her ear,

"Watch it grow," I said to her. "Just stroke it up and down a few times and watch what it does."

Well, I didn't expect her to get that close a look, but she bent forward and was stroking his cock as I saw the head turn a dark red and before I could say, "Look out!" he had released a load right into Wendy's face and hair.

Wendy jumped back and I could see Einstein unsuccessfully humping the air where Wendy's hand had been. I quickly took over knowing that he would need a few more strokes to finish him off properly.

He groaned as another jet of hot white cum spurted from his cock, this time landing on his own shirt, then squirmed on the bed as I twirled my palm over the top of his now sensitive cock-head using his cum as lubricant, and letting my long tapered fingers continue to push and pull on his foreskin. Finally, he could take no more and jerked out of my grasp, curling into a fetal position on his side.

"Wow!" was all that Wendy could say.

I looked at my darling Wendy. Her face and hair was covered in stringy strands and globules of cum. Her top was still open and her nipples were still hard. I grabbed some tissues from the nightstand to clean her up, but I could see that she would have to rinse her hair before we went home.

Einstein flopped over onto his back again, his breathing slowly returning to normal.

"Jesus, Peppermint, what the hell did you do? That felt fantastic!"

"Oh, look, Pete, it's shrinking!" Wendy said, sounding disappointed.

"They all do that after a climax, Wendy," I explained. "The nice thing is, you can get them to grow again."

"I don't think it's going to grow again today," Einstein said. "That last climax took all I had. That really was fantastic! Thanks!"

"You're welcome," I said.

"Would giving him a blowjob make it hard again, Pete?" Wendy asked.

Einstein's cock instantly twitched and started to grow, as did his eyes.

"I'm sure it would, Sweetheart. Look at it growing just thinking about it!"

We watched as on its own accord, Einstein's cock started to swell.

"You would do that?" he asked Wendy.

"Pete said she'd show me how," Wendy said.

He looked at me.

"I know you'll like it a lot," I said. "I know it's not a regular thing in this decade, but we both know how common it's going to be in another ten years. Linda Lovelace made 'Deep Throat' two years ago, but I didn't see it until after I finished high school," I said. "Then every guy wanted his girlfriend to suck him."