Chapter 13: Another Pinky Encounter

I changed into my uniform before leaving the house so I could take my time, not wanting to be rushed getting ready for Sunday evening formation by my roommates. Mr. Oldham drove me back to school. We talked on the way but he never disclosed why Ned wasn't taking me back as had always been the past practice.

"When we go into the office let me do the talking. Call me Uncle John or Sir if you are pressed to refer to me, do you understand Sammy?"

"Yes sir," I answered, not willing to bring myself to address him as my Uncle yet.

He talked about why he had been so lenient with Pinky, even giving him money he wasn't really entitled to. Mr. Oldham had taken the safer course and let him off. Filing charges for assault and battery or even calling the police to report that Edgar and Pinky were at the house would eventually implicate Ned. "Ned and I could get into trouble for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, him paying Ellen for the first blowjob, me for condoning what was taking place in my own home. But I'm glad we did it. I consider it part of your education, but others would frown on that practice. Sometimes we take undue risks for which there is a price to pay. In this case you are paying the price by not having the satisfaction of seeing Pinky punished for what he did to you. I think that's preferable to having you taken away from us, don't you?"

I didn't have to think about my answer. "Yes Sir, Uncle John." Mr. Oldham looked over at me and smiled, giving me a warm feeling deep inside.

Everything went without a hitch in the administrative office. Mr. Oldham gave an account of how I had been accosted by two unsavory scoundrels who were, unfortunately, still on the loose. The notes from the doctor were accepted without question and Mr. Oldham and I parted, with me saying, "So long Uncle John."

The reception in the room was not as congenial. My roommates were curious about my bandaged face but didn't believe the story that two hoodlums had jumped me for money, and when they discovered I only had ten bucks on me they took out their frustration on my face.

Charlie didn't help me sell my story. "Was it Pinky that jumped you because you fucked his girlfriend?"

I denied that Pinky had anything to do with the gash on my face but Charlie's question caused a rash of questions from my other roommates, both before and after formation. I found myself walking a tightrope. Every time I dodged a question from Jarvis or Craig, Charlie would quote verbatim from my description of how Ellen had reacted to my gentle touch.

"Stop filling this kid's head with crap from your wild imagination. You wouldn't know where to put it if you had the chance, unless her name's Miss Fist," Jarvis berated me and that got a laugh from all the other guys, except Charlie.

"Oldham screwed his maid all last weekend and she only charged him for the first time. Tell them Sammy," Charlie shot back at Jarvis, forgetting to treat the senior cadet with the respect he deserved. Sims Carter took Charlie aside, and refreshed his memory about military courtesy, effectively reining him in. This was a great relief to me because I had been warned by Mr. Oldham about the consequences of revealing more about my encounter with Pinky. Supporting Charlie's claim that I had 'screwed my maid all last weekend, ' would eventually include Pinky's consent and that would be dangerous territory.

After evening formation we stripped down to our skivvies to give our shoes a mirror finish and talk about our weekend. Seeing the tape across my exposed chest brought another round of speculation about the beating I had taken on Saturday. Craig ridiculed me, saying the tape was just for show so I could get out of marching and football practice. I was sure he knew better; missing out on football practice was torture to me but I remained silent. He and the others wouldn't have believed that I had tried to defend myself and gotten in a couple of good licks to their shins and Pinky's neck.

The post-game dance at D.M.A. received some attention with ribbing about who had danced with which Speedwell girl. I learned that Dale and Jarvis had favored dance partners from our sister school while Smitty and Craig had ventured to the other end of the auditorium to invite Forrester girls to dance. I listened to Jarvis tell about the lewd remarks he had made to one of the girls, and how her response had been encouraging. Craig tried to top Jarvis's claim, saying a Forrester girl had offered to suck his cock the next time our teams played. I was happy to listen to them brag. It deflected the attention away from me.

Getting into the top bunk proved more difficult than I had anticipated and after I got under the covers I wished I had taken part of a pain pill. But getting back down, finding the pill and going to get water to wash it down would have brought another onslaught of ire from my roommates. I lay there trying to take my mind off of the drums beating in my head and the dull pull of the tape against my chest. Finding out if Charlie had said anything about me to Debra Simmons on their ride home was first on my list of things to do. I thought of my own ride home with Paula and how she got me to finger her pussy. That took my mind off my throbbing head for about a minute. Second on my list of things to do was to offer the tape of the Oakdale game to Jordan Foster. I would talk to Russell to see if he had any ideas as to how I could approach Jordan.

Then Pinky's visit to the Oldham home replayed in my mind. Just as we were taking our seats at the breakfast bar to enjoy a dish of Mollie's stew, there had been a knock at the back door. Ned went to answer the knock and came back with Edgar in tow. I got my first look at the man who had held me while Pinky took out his frustration on my face. I was hungry and determined to eat even if it hurt my jaw. I was also curious as to why the big man was standing in our kitchen, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking like he would run out the door if someone said boo.

We all turned around on our seats to wait for Edgar to say something. Mr. Oldham interceded.

"What are you doing here? I suppose you know you're no longer employed by me?"

"We know," said Edgar. "We come to collect our wages for what you owe us."

"Who is we? Is Pinky outside?" Ned spoke up.

"Yeah, he's out there but he didn't want to come in."

"Go get him," Ned commanded and Edgar shuffled out the door. I turned around and ate a few spoonfuls of stew. Ned and Mr. Oldham huddled about how much the two workers had coming. "We'll pay them in cash. Have them sign a receipt for the workweek ending September 20," Mr. Oldham told Ned.

When Edgar brought Pinky inside I turned my seat back around to face him, but he wouldn't look at any of us. They both looked tired, dirty and unshaven. Mr. Oldham questioned them. Edgar did all the talking. They had not been home, having eluded the police and wanted their wages so they could leave town. Mr. Oldham seemed satisfied with that arrangement.

"How old are you Edgar?"

"Twenty-three."

"And how old are you Mr. Pinkman?"

"He's nineteen," Edgar said.

"Let him answer the question. How old are you Mr. Pinkman?"

Pinky looked at the floor and shuffled his feet like he was trying to remember his age. "Nineteen," he said, confirming what we already knew.

"This question is for Mr. Pinkman. Do you know how old this young man is?" Mr. Oldham asked, sounding impatient.

Pinky looked up, a blank stare in his eyes, gazed at me for a second and shook his head, no. I remembered that Ellen had told him that I was young, but she may not have given my age.

"Look at him. How old does he look to you?" Mr. Oldham asked, insistently.

"I heard he was fourteen," Pinky said, without raising his eyes to look at me.

"That's right. He's fourteen. Do you always jump boys five years younger than you? Do you always need someone else to help you assault a boy five years younger than you? Do you know the penalty for assault and battery?"

Pinky mumbled something, too low for us to hear him.

"Speak up," Mr. Oldham ordered.

"He said he was sorry," Edgar spoke up.

"Sorry for what? Are you sorry for your actions or because you're in trouble? Answer me Mr. Pinkman. I want to hear what made you cut my nephew's face."

"I said I was sorry," Pinky raised his voice this time, enough that we could hear him.

"Answer the rest of the question. Tell us why you did it."

"We just need the money so we can get out of here before the police find us," Edgar inserted, drawing a wicked stare from Mr. Oldham.

"Have I asked to you speak? I'll get to you later. In the meantime button your lip and think about how you're going to answer my questions. I'm interested in knowing if you're proud of your part in this?"

The women whispered among themselves. Edgar looked at the floor, sheepishly. Ned was finished writing the statements for them to sign. Mr. Oldham was putting on a show, getting his money's worth. He looked at Pinky and said, "Talk."

"He fucked my girl without paying. He owes me fifty dollars. I was taking it out of his hide to teach him a lesson, that's all," Pinky spoke like it was a prepared speech.