Chapter 65: More Dominos Fall

Ned left for the airport with the last group of sales people and we had two hours of peace and quiet before I had to leave for school. Suzanne reminded me that I would be alone the following weekend and I told them to have a good time in San Francisco. I could tell that they were tired after several long days in a row. I could also tell they were not looking forward to their west coast trip.

Mr. Oldham wanted to know about the upcoming football schedule. I handed him the folded piece of paper that I carried in my back pocket. The schedule was very similar to two years before when I was a freshman. We were to play at Pinehurst the Friday that Mr. Oldham and Suzanne were away. He assured me that he and Suzanne would come to the rest of the games.

I looked over at Suzanne to see if there would be a reaction. She playfully snatched the schedule out of his hand. At first I thought she was counting the remaining games in the schedule but when she spoke it was about something else she had spotted.

"Are you giving Josh a gift for his birthday?" she asked.

"He's going to be away next weekend but I'll get him something," I said, remembering that I had made a note next to the Pinehurst entry, 'October 2: Josh's fourteenth birthday.'

"What does 'D.S.' mean next to Dearborn Military Academy?" Suzanne asked, moving on from Josh's birthday.

"It's nothing," I said. Suzanne raised an eyebrow indicating that my answer was not satisfactory. But I didn't know why I had written Debora Simmons initials next to Dearborn. "That's a reminder to avoid someone," I said and Suzanne let it drop.

"You have 'end of first quarter, ' scribbled next to November the sixth. Is that when we will see your report cards?"

"Perhaps, but it will probably be the next week before class standings are posted," I said, glad to move on from Debora Simmons.

Suzanne folded the schedule and handed it to me. "If I were to submit myself to three of your games which one's would you suggest that I attend?"

"Would you prefer to come to games that we will win or would you rather see the best played games?"

"I would prefer to come to the games that you behave yourself," she said, looking serious but with a hint of a smile. I was tempted to tell her what Marcy had said about us getting too many dumb-ass penalties but that would have required telling her how I knew Marcy Cochran and I didn't think Suzanne was ready to hear about my most recent trouble.

They came outside with me when Mrs. Ford picked me up. Mr. Oldham and I shook hands but Suzanne hugged me and told me they would call me. "I was just teasing you. I'll come see you play every game," she said, hugging me again, tightly.

Mrs. Ford and I played a cat and mouse game all the way to school. We talked about how the weather was changing, the upcoming school week and the Oakdale game. But what was left unsaid hung over us like a cloud that could burst at any moment. She knew that her little boy had lost his cherry and she wanted me to know that she knew. Why didn't she say it? The reason, I thought, was that she didn't want Josh to know that she knew. I wondered if she thought Jeannie was responsible. I breathed a sigh of relief when we got out of the car and said goodbye. The cloud had not burst.

"Your mom knows," I said to Josh as we walked up the stairs to our rooms.

"No she doesn't. I didn't tell her," he argued.

"Cindy said you fucked her three times," I said, hating myself for prying. Josh stopped and turned to me.

"She was lying. It was only twice," he said, reddening.

I let it drop and we continued walking up the stairs. Why did I mention that? What difference did it make if they used all three condoms? Did he suspect anything about what Jeannie and I were doing in my room? Did Cindy tell him? Is that how she got him to screw her?

"I'll see you later, Josh," I said when we parted.

"Okay," he said. What was he thinking? Did he expect me to pounce on him at any moment? Shit! Why was I letting this bother me? Why had Cindy made a point of Jeannie looking forward to our next time together? What next time? Why wasn't I looking forward to my next time with Cindy?

There was some talk in the room about the Dearborn game but it didn't last very long. Jeremy Foster and I were the only members of the varsity. After a weekend of leisure we were moving slowly and Room Leader Orlando Laredo had to urge us to get ready for evening formation. "Look sharp!" he ordered.

Later that evening, William Lester and I got into a shouting contest, him wanting to know why I was so particular about who danced with my girlfriend and her sister. Unbeknownst to me, Russell had headed Lester off before he could invite Cindy to dance. "You'll have to take it up with Russell Bertram," I said, getting in the last words before Orlando told us to sit down and keep quiet.

A car interrupted Monday afternoon football practice. The car was one we had never seen before and all eyes were drawn to it as it climbed the winding drive and onto the edge of the practice fields. All eyes were riveted to the car. The driver got out and strode towards the bleachers where Colonel Travis had stationed himself on the top bench. Mr. Sterling gave my helmet's chinstrap a tug, telling me to concentrate on what he wanted to show us. It must have been thirty minutes later when we heard the engine start. We heard the car roar down the drive but we didn't dare turn our heads to watch.

"It's a Ferrari!" Sherman exclaimed in the room that night and Eddie confirmed that he was correct. Apparently they were foreign car buffs.

"Who was the driver?" Spence asked. None of us recognized the man. Someone said he was heavy-set and had trouble disembarking from the car but I was so intrigued with the silver vehicle that I hadn't paid very much attention to the driver. All I knew was that the car looked expensive and I wanted one like it.

Later that evening Eddie told me the car was a Ferrari Testarossa. He had seen photos but never had the opportunity to see one up close. I got the impression that he was only mildly interested in that model.

Our study sessions had become routine. There was always math homework, which we completed on our own, keeping interruptions to a minimum. Sometimes Spence and I would confer when we were stumped by something new and there was the occasional question from one of our charges. But prolonged talking was frowned upon. Generally, we conducted ourselves quietly and seriously until thirty minutes before bedtime. At nine-thirty, Orlando would signal that talking was permitted. Eddie and I would review his homework and reading assignments. He would often raise a concern, usually something that was taking place in one of his classes. I would suggest that we take a walk so we could discuss whatever was bothering him in private. It was during these walks that I would quiz him about his life at the Burrow house, which he divulged in small rations.

Their first kiss happened on Celia's fourteenth birthday, the seventeenth of March, 1987. It had been Stacy's idea. She was the girl who had come to live across the road from the Burrow house. "Stacy is older and she knows things," Eddie said, looking to see if I understood his meaning. "She told me to give Celia a birthday kiss. It was like a dare at first. I got weak in the knees and Celia squealed. I had never kissed a girl before. I didn't like it when my mother kissed me. I wasn't going to do it and I could tell Celia wasn't either. We were walking home from the bus stop and Stacy said we couldn't go in the house until we kissed," he said, pausing.

I always had to prompt him. "What did you do?" I asked him.

"Stacy was a little bigger than me but I was faster. I knew she couldn't stop both of us and Celia knew it to but she said, 'we may as well do it, Eddie. She's not going to let us go inside until we do.'"

"Sounds like Celia wanted you to kiss her. Did you?"

"Yeah, it was kind of nice, too. But Celia giggled and Stacy said it wasn't a real kiss. I became embarrassed and ran around to the back of the house. I tried not to look at Celia the rest of the night but when I did look she smiled at me. The next day was Wednesday and our party was going to be on Saturday afternoon. Stacy started talking about me kissing Celia again as soon as we got off the bus that day. I said I was going to take a shortcut through the woods and Celia said she would too. We both knew it wasn't really a shortcut. I guess she wanted to get away from Stacy too." Eddie paused, waiting for me to prompt him.

"How did she get you to kiss her again?" I asked.

He gave me a quizzical, how-did-you-know-that look. "She's helpless in the woods. I had to help her over the rough spots. When we reached the clearing I tried to let go of her hand but she held on. She said she was going to give me a kiss for my birthday but we needed to practice."

"I told you she wanted you to kiss her again," I laughed.

"That night I had trouble concentrating while we did our homework together. Every time I looked across the table she was grinning at me. The next day I said I was going to take the short cut again, hoping Celia would take it too. Stacy got mad at us but we just laughed at her. We held hands all the way to the clearing. We practiced kissing in the clearing every day after school and we were getting good at it. Her lips were like velvet and I liked the way she put her hands around my neck."

I had heard that part before. "Did you get a hard-on?" I asked, wanting him to move on. He gave me a strange look.

"That's kind of..."

"Personal?" I asked and he nodded. It was getting late. I suggested that we go back to the room.

After lights out I thought about what he had told me and where he stopped the narration. He liked talking about Celia's soft lips but that's where the story usually ended. I didn't blame him for not describing Celia's body or what else they did together. I had always made it a practice to reveal very little of what I had done with a girl. Josh had reacted the same way. He was tight-lipped about what he had done with Cindy or what she had done to him. He admitted that he had fucked her twice but that was because I had tricked him into telling me. Josh hadn't volunteered much but his body language gave him away. Even his mother knew that he had lost his virginity. She just didn't know with whom.

What kept popping into my mind was the sight of Cindy standing with her back to us as Jeannie and I stood at the sunroom entrance. She was connecting the two straps of her bra. She turned and seeing that we had been watching her she showed no alarm. She casually stood there watching us, her pubic hair glistening with dampness. I couldn't make my feelings react to what I had witnessed. I wasn't sure if I cared that she had taken Josh's cherry. I did wish, however, that she had told me what she planned to do.

I do know that seeing Cindy and what had just taken place is what made us run back up to my room and get in bed together. If it hadn't been for seeing Cindy and knowing what she had done I would have delivered Jeannie back to her, still a virgin. Was Jeannie's lost virginity for the best? Had I done her a favor? Could I be with Cindy again without remembering the scene in the sunroom? What did Cindy mean when she said Jeannie was looking forward to our next time together? Was Jeannie serious? Would she cause trouble if she didn't get her way?

I must have dozed off for a few minutes but I sat up in bed when two images flickered through my mind. Mr. Baldwin and Mrs. Ford were arguing about which one was going to cut my balls off. I tried to explain to Mr. Baldwin that Cindy made me fuck his little girl. He didn't believe me. And Mrs. Ford blamed me for letting Cindy take her little boy's virginity. I slept restlessly.

The car was back the next day. We could see it from the courtyard when we stood formation at lunchtime. But instead of filing into the cafeteria we marched to the auditorium, past the car, with the band playing.

Chairs had been set up, eight to the row. We took our seats in the row of chairs reserved for Room Four, Company C with William Lester sitting at one end of the row and Orlando Laredo at the other end, presumable to keep an eye on the rest of us. But they could not watch us every second. I let my eye wander and found the driver of the Ferrari Testarossa seated in the front row. There was a small round bald spot on the back of his head. His shoulders looked huge. Otherwise, his other features were hidden.

Colonel Travis strode to the center of the stage and I had a hard time maintaining a straight face. A commotion rose from the audience, making me think that I was not the only one who found his outfit comical. A hush came over the auditorium when the Colonel's heels clicked together and two instructors stood up to survey the room.

I had to admire the man at the center of the stage. From the beret perched on top of his head to the three and one-half rows of decorations on his chest to the narrow waistband of the Eisenhower-style jacket to his tailored pants legs tucked into parachutist-style boots, the man radiated military. For a man of fifty-something, he was trim and in relatively good shape.