Chapter 7: July 1, 1978

Mrs. Hughes stepped out of the darkness of a nearby cabin and into the light. Mrs. Coulter followed behind her. I swallowed hard. As American as Mrs. Hughes was, Mrs. Coulter was the opposite. She was an exotic Indian beauty with the proper British accent. I envied Mr. Coulter from marrying such a goddess. However, her beauty, mannerisms, and speech always left me tongue-tied.

“It sounds like your sister was peeking in on your parents having a bit of fun,” teased Mrs. Coulter.

“Elizabeth!” admonished Mrs. Hughes.

“You won’t tell my parents, will you?” I asked in a panic.

“Relax, Steve, relax,” soothed Mrs. Coulter with a smile. “We have no intention of informing your parents. Right, Beth?”

Mrs. Hughes shot Mrs. Coulter look to say she did not agree with her. She then sighed and nodded to me.

“Uh, Mrs. Coulter,” I stammered. “I ... uh ... my name ... uh...”

“He’s using his real name now instead of his nickname,” explained Mrs. Hughes, rescuing me from myself. “He’s Stephan.”

“A good, masculine name,” commented Mrs. Coulter, looking me up and down. Her eyes seemed to linger on my cock, which made me very nervous. “You’ve grown into a fine young man.”

“Say good night, Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Hughes firmly.

Mrs. Coulter laughed and said, “Forgive me for my teasing you, Stephan. I’ll tell my girls about using your proper name. I bid you all a good night,” and she walked away.

“Sorry about that,” said Mrs. Hughes. “Elizabeth to be a tease at times. We won’t say anything to your parents, but I think you should. Magda is a bright, curious child. You gave her some mature insights, but I think your parents should be the ones to explain it to Magda ... oral and ... straight sex?”

“ ... and ... uh ... um ... bottom,” I stammered, feeling the heat in my face.

“Anal,” corrected Mrs. Hughes with a smile.

“Yes, a ... anal,” I said. “I was going to talk to Aunt Susan and see if she would talk to Magda. She and I have been talking about ... things. She’s helped me out a lot.”

“Susan is a close and special friend of mine,” said Mrs. Hughes. “I see now where your advice to Magda came from. What got you and Susan talking?”

“Well, Mom’s always doting on Roman and Dad is always there for Magda,” I said. “She just started talking to me and told me we could talk about anything ... including sex. She’s a ... special person.”

A look of compassion came over Mrs. Hughes’ face. She reached up and touched me lightly on the shoulder, while giving me a warm smile.

“I’ll talk to Susan and we’ll both talk to Magda,” stated Mrs. Hughes. “It’ll help if you talk to her first and tell her to confide in us. That way it won’t seem as if you ratted her out.”

“I talk to her first thing tomorrow, Mrs. Hughes,” I said.

“Mrs. Hughes makes me sound like my mother-in-law,” chuckled Mrs. Hughes. “Would it be all right if you call me Aunt Beth, like you do Aunt Susan?”

“Can Magda call you Aunt Beth, Aunt Beth?” I asked with a smile. “It’ll make her more relaxed.”

“Of course,” said Aunt Beth. She then looked at her watch “it’s getting close to your curfew. You’d better scoot.”

“You know when my curfew is?” I asked in amazement.

“Parents talk to other parents,” stated Aunt Beth. “It’s how we protect our children and one of the ways we learn parenting.”

“But...” I started to say.

“Later,” interrupted Aunt Beth. “I don’t want to make you late. You said you talk to Susan. I’ll extend you the same arrangement. If you want to talk about anything, feel free to come to me.” Aunt Beth gave me an appraising look. “Elizabeth was right. You are growing up to be a fine, young man. Now, scoot!”

I made it back to our cabin with two minutes to spare.

Sunday morning, as I was preparing breakfast with Magda, I found out that talking to her and convincing her to talk to Aunt Susan and Aunt Beth were two different things. She was reluctant to even talk to me about what she’d seen. I couldn’t tell her I was also spying on our parents because that would’ve brought Murray into the picture.

I explained to Magda that Aunt Beth had overheard us last night. I almost told her that Aunt Beth would go to our parents if she didn’t talk to her, but I knew that would make her angry and reluctant. I wanted her to have the same type of open discussions like I had with Aunt Susan.

I finally had to threaten her that I would go to our parents if she didn’t go talk to one of the two women. As Magda stormed away from me, I figured she would be angry with me for a while, but she would go and talk to either Aunt Susan or Aunt Beth. Later that day, I saw Magda and Aunt Susan sitting at a picnic table down by the lake.

The scavenger hunt was fun. Hunt parties were set up in teams of two. Murray yanked my chain when I went over to her with the list. She went over and asked my dad to be her partner, while I just stood there with a dumbfounded look on my face and a bruised ego. Dad refused her, putting his arm around Mom and saying he already had a partner.

“What was that all about?” I asked huffily when Murray came bouncing back over to me.

“Don’t get your undies all in a knot,” laughed Murray. She then laughed louder. “Sorry, you aren’t wearing any. Don’t worry. I knew your dad would turn me down, unlike one or two of the other men here. I just didn’t want you to take me for granted.”

She was right. Even after my talks with Aunt Susan, I had automatically assumed she would be my partner for the scavenger hunt. It never occurred to me to ask her beforehand. I then felt kind of sick when I thought that some other guy may have asked her that she may have said yes since I didn’t ask.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Murray, I know it’s kind of late asking, but would you be my partner for the scavenger hunt?”

“You know I will, silly, but it’s nice that you asked.”

The scavenger hunt went well. I always thought Aunt Susan use the hunt to clean up some the trash around the area. This probably was correct because she included items like an old tire, a hub, or three aluminum cans on the list.

We started out pretty well. I’d ridden my bike all over camp, so I knew where we could find most of the ordinary stuff. The second item on the list was a four leaf clover pressed in a book. I led Murray to the clubhouse and started leafing through the books in the library.

Mary watched me for a minute and then looked at the list. She sighed, walked over to me, and took the book I was rifling through out of my hands. I gave her a questioning look. Murray pulled me close and get me a long, lingering kiss.

I forgot all about the scavenger hunt. Her kiss was sweet and full of promise. My desire grew as rapidly as my cock did. Murray pulled away from me and took me by the hand. Without saying a word, she led me outside. She let go of me and began walking around, peering intently at the ground. She suddenly stopped, knelt down, and pick something up. Murray walked back to me, and I saw she was holding a four leaf clover. She placed it between the pages of the book she’d taken from me, closed it, and handed the book to me without a word.

We both lost track of the scavenger hunt for a time after that. First, it was because I was chasing her around the clubhouse, threatening to throw her into the lake. Second, when I finally managed to catch her, Murray attacked me with her soft, full lips. It wasn’t until we heard Gunny Kershaw’s starter pistol go off, signaling the end of the scavenger hunt, that we stopped kissing and returned to the starting line. With only a couple of items, we placed dead last.

Afterwards, Dad invited the Goldbergs to dinner. I knew he was planning on frying chicken with oven-roasted red potatoes, and string beans. I suggested we do mashed potatoes with gravy, since we had three more mouths to feed. Dad said that was fine and asked if I would be in charge of the side dishes. I just smiled at him, grabbed Murray’s hand, and let her down to the clubhouse.

“Stephan, I can’t cook,” stated Murray apprehensively.

“This is easy,” I said. “Here, have a seat at the counter ... a cutting board ... and ... a knife. You’re going to cut the ends off the string beans. Line up two or three string beans, cut off the ends on one side, turn them around, and cut off the other ends.” I showed Murray what to do. “That’s it. Just be careful with the knife. It’s very sharp.”

“How sharp?” asked Murray, holding the knife as if it was going to bite her.

“Just be careful and you’ll be fine,” I assured her.

Murray started to slowly cut the string beans and I watched her do the first couple cuts before I turned to the potatoes. I first put a pot of water on the stove to boil for the string beans. I then peeled, washed, and diced up the potatoes. I put the lid on another pot of water after adding salt, and placed it on the stove to bring to a boil. I turned back to Murray and saw that she barely made a dent in the string beans.

“Need some help?” I asked with a smile.

Murray slammed the knife down on the cutting board and glowered at me. I flinched because the knife was one of Dad’s and sharp enough to sever finger with ease. I noticed that things have gone quiet in the clubhouse.

“You did this!” She hissed at me, standing up and leaning towards me. “You set me up to make me look stupid after I showed you up with the clover.”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. “We’re ... We’re just fixing dinner.”

“Murray, set the knife down.”

We both looked over and saw Dad and Mrs. Goldberg standing at the end of the counter. Dad looked stern, but Mrs. Goldberg was all wide-eyed. She was actually wringing her hands and licking her lips nervously. Murray locked eyes with Dad, but had to look away after a second or two. She carefully set the knife on the cutting board and stepped back. Dad lost a little of his tenseness, but Mrs. Goldberg was still fidgety.

“Pardon me,” Mrs. Goldberg chimed in, speaking rapidly. “I need to get something from our room,” and she quickly walked away.

“I’d better go,” said Murray.

“Murray, sit,” ordered Dad.

I thought she was going to balk, but she sat down on the stool. Dad pulled the cutting board over to him and picked up the knife. He started trimming the string beans with rapidity even I couldn’t match.

“Murray, Stephan’s been around my kitchen ever since he could walk. Of my three children, he has the best attitude towards food. Even at fourteen years old, he’s had more experience working around the kitchen than most of the people here. I don’t believe he was trying to show you up or ridicule you. He’s just more efficient in the kitchen.” Dad finished the string beans, placing them in a colander, and the tips into the trashcan. “If you can’t handle that, then you need to get out of the kitchen, but remember one thing. There will always be people who are better at doing things that you are.”

Murray’s lower lip quivered and her eyes filled up with unshed tears. She looked so miserable, I want to go to her, but Dad was standing between me and her. She nodded her head to Dad in a show of acquiescence before turning and walking out of the clubhouse. I started to follow her, but Dad placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Let her go,” said Dad. I started the balk. “What I mean is, let her think this through on her own.”

“But...”

“No buts,” stated Dad. “Go wash the string beans and check on the potatoes.”

I almost disobeyed him. I wanted to go to Murray and tell her I wasn’t trying to put her down or make her look stupid, but I didn’t. I rinsed the string beans and checked on the potatoes. Dad told me to turn down the heat on the two because dinner might be delayed. As he cut up the chicken for frying, he told me to go enjoy myself, but not to leave the clubhouse. The restrictions were back in place.

I didn’t feel like joining any of my friends, so I slumped down at a table. I guess I was lost in my own thoughts because I never heard Aunt Susan approached me.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked. “May I join you?”

“Please,” I said, standing up and holding out a chair.

“Thank you,” said Aunt Susan, sitting down. “Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m stuck in here again,” I answered curtly.

Aunt Susan gave me a look. It took me a second before I realized that I had been rude.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Susan,” I said. “Murray is mad at me and Dad’s restricted me to the clubhouse. I don’t even know why she got mad.” I sighed deeply. “I saw you talking to Magda. How is she doing?”

“Beth and I have both talked to her and she’s doing fine,” stated Aunt Susan. “She’s a very bright, inquisitive girl, but she seems to harbor a lot of resentment towards Roman.”

I squirmed in my seat. I didn’t want to ‘air our family’s dirty laundry’ as Mom would put it. However, I realized that Aunt Susan already knew it and that was why she first started talking to me.

“Dad gives Magda his undivided attention,” I told her. “Magda loves it, but she also wants Mom’s attention. Mom’s all about Roman, since he’s firstborn son. Mom does pay attention to Magda, but when Roman sees that that he’s not getting the attention, he’ll do something to distract Mom away from Magda. I think that is why Magda dislikes Roman. Um, Aunt Susan, this stays between us, right?”

“Of course,” said Aunt Susan. “However, this is a family dynamic that has to be solved between the five of you. Let’s get back to Murray. Rumor has it that she had a knife to your throat.”

“Oh, shit,” I cursed. “Sorry. It wasn’t like that at all.” I then went on to explain the clover and the string beans incidents. At the end, I said, “She got mad because ... because...”

“She felt inadequate?” supplied Aunt Susan.

“Exactly!”

“Did you feel threatened by her?” asked Aunt Susan.

“No,” I replied. “Dad might’ve thought so based on Roman and Magda’s habit of throwing things at each other.”

“Ah, I see,” said Aunt Susan. “Are you two having sex?”

I sputtered, swallowed, and choked when it went down the wrong pipe. I coughed and wheezed for minute until I can catch my breath.

I’m sorry,” said Aunt Susan, after I could breathe again normally. “I didn’t mean to catch you by surprise.”

“I’m not supposed to answer your question, you know,” I said to her.

“Quite right,” admitted Aunt Susan. “I just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

“Murray promised her grandmother that she wouldn’t touch a co ... penis until she was married,” I said. “All we’ve done is feel each other up and have ... oral sex.”

Aunt Susan looked perplexed. “Stephan, I’m confused. She can’t keep her promise and do that.”

“No, no,” I said quickly. “I’m the one doing it.”

“Okay,” said Aunt Susan slowly. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You stimulate her with her fingers and perform oral sex on her, but, because of her promise, she can’t touch you. How do you get relief?”

“We ... We masturbate together,” I said with a blush. “I can ... uh ... come on her body. Murray stated that doesn’t break her promise.”

“That’s splitting hairs, but...” commented Aunt Susan.

“It’s complicated,” I said. “I think she wants to have sex, but is waiting for me to make her break the promise. I want to, but I don’t want to make her pregnant or make her mad at me for breaking the promise. We, uh, made a bet on who would give in first.”

Aunt Susan chuckled and said, “All relationships are complicated. You sound like you’re in a Catch-22 situation and one of your own making.”

“Huh?”

“Damned if you do and damned if you don’t,” explained Aunt Susan. “Can you live with the status quo?”

“We leave in four days,” I said. “I won’t see Murray again until next summer ... that is, if our families plan our vacations here around the same time. I want her to be my friend when I leave. I guess it’s less complicated when you get married.”

Aunt Susan broke out in laughter.

Stephan, if anything, it’s more complicated,” she said with tears of mirth in her eyes. “That’s why I want you to be careful. Marriage to the right person is complicated, but a blessing. Marriage to the wrong person is pure hell.”

“So, your marriage to your husband was complicated?” I asked. “I know you loved him, so it was a blessing.”

“Yes, it was,” said Aunt Susan. She gave me a distinct look. “Our talks are between us, correct?”

I nodded and Aunt Susan said, “When I was married to Jack and after our sons were born, I fell in love with another person. The other person also loves me. I didn’t love my husband any less. Jack knew because I told him and he wasn’t threatened by my other relationship.”

“But how could you love two people at the same time?” I asked.

“Do you love your parents?” I nodded. “How about your sister?” I nodded again. “Roman? How do you feel about Murray?”

“I care about her, but not as much as my brother and sister,” I said. It then hit me. “Oh, I see! It’s like there are different levels of love.”

“Basically,” stated Aunt Susan.

“So you loved your husband more than this other person and that is why he was okay with it,” I said.