New Summer! 2012ving
I got a bunny!
This is where I found him in Evanston moments after the mom had been killed. He is much bigger now and growing steadily. Happy Bunny!
I decided to start putting my writing online. Please scroll down and enjoy!
Ben and the 12 Years
The
bathtub water swooshed back and forth in the tub, or up and down by Ben’s
perspective. He pumped his legs to create these small waves, feeling too old to
play in the bathtub. The bubble baths had ended months ago around his twelfth
birthday. This was when he finally reasoned that Santa Klaus couldn’t exist,
his father confirmed it, “I thought you knew,” he said, with the cold
dispassion that an adult exhibits towards something that seems trivial and
childish to them. He got out of the tub and began drying himself. For a minute
or two he stared at himself in the mirror naked while thinking, “this is me, I
am inside this body.”
Ben
was getting older.
Boys
and girls at school were “going out”; mostly this was among the 7th
and 8th graders but some of the people in Ben’s grade coupled. When
he was in 2nd grade he had met his “girlfriend” of sorts whose mom was friends
with his mom. They lived a less than a half mile from each other in a
subdivision of large townhomes. The girl’s name was Dana and her hair was as
dark as her bike helmet, Ben could remember being pulled behind Dana’s bike on
rollerblades. He would watch loose strands of her hair flit through the slits
in the helmet. It would look as though the helmet itself was a shiny black fire
on her head during the blindingly sunny summer days. In the warm weekend
evenings their parents would have dinner parties and eat out on the deck.
Grilled hot dogs, potato chips, and corn would be eaten at the kids table while
citronella candles burned. The adults would have beers or wine and the aromas
of barbecue, citronella, cologne/perfume, and alcohol created a heady scent.
Ben and Dana would try on disguises from a box of costume stuff in the lowest
level of the townhome. They would dress up and try different accents and
pretend to have fantastic professions.
But
that was a back then. And now Ben is 12. Downstairs his parents are putting
together a salad and boiling corn on the cob. Ben walked softly into his
parent’s room, not that he was doing anything bad, but for some reason he felt
compelled to sneak to do this. He opened the cabinet of his dad’s bedroom and considered
the cologne options in front of him. He chose Cool Water being the sleekest
looking bottle and because he recognized the name. He sprayed it on liberally.
He walked down to the kitchen where his mom and dad turned to see what they had
smelled: their brown haired son wearing 9 sprays of Cool Water to his shirt and
arms, the smell clashed with the just-lit barbecue.
Dana,
her older sister Melissa and their mother arrived with a plate of cupcakes. Her
dad was not coming as he and her dad were separated and heading towards divorce
quickly. Melissa resembled Dana, or maybe the other way around. Of course they
both had their mother’s nose angular and narrow. They stepped inside.
“Karen,
how are you?” Ben’s mom extended arms and gave a casual hug to Dana’s mom.
Karen seemed relieved to see her.
“Come
in,” Ben’s dad offered, “Melissa, Dana hi girls. Ben’s upstairs he can put on
some TV for you. Do you want a drink? We have Coke or uh water. Or orange
juice.”
Ben
quietly watched them enter from a banister over the stairs. He smiled when he
saw the girls. He spied the parts in their scalps as they walked up the stairs.
“Someone
smells nice. “Hi Ben.” Karen sang “Ben” with an elongated “eeee.”
Ben
likes Karen’s smile, it feels kind, yet almost flirtatious.
The
girls walked upstairs into the living room, Melissa placed a girl’s magazine on
the couch as she sat down. Dana blushed and touched her necklace as Ben greeted
her with a wave. She sat on the couch next to her sister.
Years
before their greetings to one another were far more enthusiastic while now they
quietly acknowledged each other. It was as if they were meeting for the first
time. Dana’s necklace was teal and beaded, a small heart charm dangled from the
bottom. She adjusted her posture after she sat and began to read the magazine
Melissa had brought from over her shoulder.
Noticeably
absent was Steve, Dana’s father. His voice was nearly booming but not quite and
had the resonance of a nature video narrator. Smooth like warm cream and
relaxing, his voice dominated conversations with stories of his decadent past.
He smoked Marlboros on the porch; Ben enjoyed the smell of the cigarettes and
often wondered what it was like.
Ben
and Dana were friends from 2nd grade up to now. They used to hold hands when
they first met but after being in different classes for 4th grade
they stopped that despite being reunited in their 5th grade class.
In 6th grade they had lunch, P.E. and English together. Ben has
always seen her as a close friend bordering on something of a relationship.
Dana felt the first part Like most girls Dana’s age (nearly 13) boys her age
seemed childish. Ben was her friend, but he was in the midst of an awkward
phase that most people go through and try hard to forget. During this phase,
where we need love and acceptance the most, when our self-esteem is so fragile,
this is when it seems farthest away. His husky body and chubby cheeks
emphasized his less than mature looks. Ben, Dana and Melissa sat in silence for
what seemed like half an hour to Ben but is really only ten minutes.
“Do
you like having Mr.Stills?” Ben began.
“We
have drinks in the kitchen girls!” Ben’s mom chimed in from the kitchen.
An
hour or so later the food was ready and was being served. Ben’s mom called for
them to come eat. The children’s table, which was basically a smaller version
of an adult picnic table, was not set up and had a small herb garden on it that
Ben’s dad had been working on.
“You
guys can eat at the counter, that table’s too small.” She said.
The
table had been too small for at least two years. Melissa especially did not
like the smaller table since she was older than the other two and was at least
4 inches taller than her little sister. Melissa sat on the couch with her plate
of food. Ben and Dana ate at the counter while sitting on high stools; their
dangling feet kicked the counter.
After
dinner Dana and Ben asked if they could walk to the 7-11 which was only two
blocks away. Ben’s dad gave them a 5 dollar bill and told them to “get some
Slurpees.” As the two walked to the store they talked about school.
“All
the girls in my class think Mr. Dwyer is ‘hot.’ He’s like 30 years older than
us.” Said Ben. Actually Mr. Dwyer is only 27 with a long face and youthful
looks. He was well aware of the students who had crushes on him but he was able
to get them to focus on learning at least some of the time.
Dana
asked, “Is there anyone that you like?”
Ben
blushed. He did nurse a crush towards the very asker of the question. Instead
of admitting these feelings, which would seem to be the best thing to do, he
said that he liked a girl in the 7th grade.
“Keely
is cute.” Ben answered.
The
Slurpees they had purchased were refreshing. Sun reflected from the domed lids
of their cups from the fiery orb setting in the summer evening sky. The two
talked about other people at their school. They talked about rumors and gossip.
They discussed things that they had heard about certain people.
“Greg
Palumbo, he’s an 8th grader, he got arrested for smoking weed at the
park across from the school. His girlfriend’s sister is in my Geography class
and she told me that he is on probation for a year.” Dana offered.
A
year seemed so long to them both. Having only been around for a combined 25
years between the two of them, an entire 365 day cycle seemed to be nearly an
eternity.
“And
now, he has to go to counseling and to court every week.” She added.
This
was not true of course, at least the “every week” part. Greg’s friends and
other associates had mutilated the story of his trouble and passed the new
narrative down the grapevine.
On
the front steps Ben and Dana breached a sensitive subject: Steve.
“Where’s
your dad?” Ben inquired. He was completely unaware of the separation of Dana’s
parents.
Dana
had been all too aware. She and her sister shared a room. Dana would doze off
early while Melissa would sometimes stay up and talk on the phone or read by a
tiny lamp. The extra noise from her sister was an annoyance until she took some
earplugs from her dad’s workshop in the garage. However, late one night as
Melissa chatted with a boy on the phone a thumping sound shook the very
foundation of the house. Muffled yells and blows snuck through the safety of
the earplugs. Dana’s parents fought, her father was punching holes in the
bathroom door out of unrestrained man anger. Karen, Dana’s mom, was berating
Steve as he yelled hurtful things back at her. This was not their first fight,
but it was their worst. The rest of that week Steve slept on the couch, and by
the weekend he was packing up for a “trial separation.” Steve moved to a one
bedroom apartment, his neighbor is a college dropout whose apartment smells of
garlic and marijuana constantly. The entire drama/transition played out less
than 2 months ago.
“He’s,”
dragging out the “e” sound, “not, I mean they’re not getting along. They’re
doing a ‘trial separation’ which means that they’re still kind of married but my
dad had to move out. They still fight on the phone though.” Dana said with a
slight sadness in her voice.
Ben
thought about the idea of people calling each other just to argue.
“My
mom packed all his stuff into boxes and keeps them in the basement by the
garage door. I don’t know. Melissa’s all ‘I don’t care’ but I think she does.”
“Oh.”
Ben grunted, not knowing what to say.
“He
moved to Fox Hill apartments over by the Chinese restaurant. I went over there
last night to go swimming but I don’t want to sleep over there, it’s weird.
It’s like, I’d have to sleep on the couch if I did. And the house smells bad
because I guess the last people who lived there cooked curry and stuff.”
“Huh, that’s gross.”
“It’s so sad over
there, there’s just stuff in the fridge for sandwiches and cans of soup. And
there’s nothing on the walls, they’re just empty. It’s just…”
“I’m sorry.” Ben wanted
to put his arm around her but didn’t think that she would like that.
Dana would’ve given
anything for someone to put his arm around her.
Ben asked, “Do you
think that they would get back together?”
With hope for the
impossible Dana replied, “Maybe.”
He
ran out of questions to ask her and directions to take the conversation. They
had come to a dead end. The depth of this conversation had rivaled any they
have ever had before. Prior to this day, the friendship between the two was
centered in playing, not discussing their lives. Silence permeated the space
between them, Dana looked forward while Ben watched her twirl her hair around
her forefinger. The darkness of her hair contrasted sharply with her neon
purple nail color.
Ben
imagined his own mother and father fighting, and “trial separating”; it made
him sad. He knew people with divorced parents, and they seemed nice enough. What
did strike him as odd was the act of parents dating. Ben went over to a boy
named Marco’s house twice before. Marco’s mother was divorced and dating a wide
shouldered man called Kevin. When Ben met him Kevin shook his hand with a grip
that should be reserved solely for adults. Kevin insisted on being called,
“Kevin” not Mr._____ or anything slightly formal. Ben didn’t like that, he
didn’t trust adults whose last name they would not reveal.
“Wanna
have some of those cupcakes your mom made?” Ben broke the melancholy of the
moment with the lighthearted question. They grabbed some cupcakes and went out
onto the deck where their parents sat and had drinks.
During
dinners that their parents had had years before Dana, Melissa and Ben would
pretend to be spies. They would dress up and pretend certain things were
special gadgets, like the remote controller Dana would keep hidden in her
costume cape. She imagined that it would pause time, the cape gave her
invisibility. They would try to observe the “grown-ups” with the utmost
stealth. Though their parents would often see them before they had finished
sneaking up, the adults would pretend as if they couldn’t see the children.
“Where did they go?” Steve would wonder aloud, sounding sincerely curious,
“they must have an invisibility cloak.” The children would laugh. Melissa would
pretend to be in charge of the operation. She would give orders and contact
them via walkie-talkie.
Now
they were completely visible to their parents. Melissa stayed hidden, as she
had often done as leader of the spies, watching TV and thumbing through her
magazine. Ben and Dana were immediately the focus of attention once outside.
Ben’s mom and dad beckoned them over while Karen said, “come here face.”
Karen
began calling Dana face when she was 5. It was short for “pretty face” which
was what Steve would call both the girls. Melissa’s nickname from her parents
was “Beebo” which were her first words.
The
mothers pull their children close so that Ben and Dana were on opposite sides
of the round deck table.
“Look
at how tall she’s getting!” Ben’s mom exclaimed while smiling towards Dana.
Simultaneously she made eye contact with Karen. “You look just like your mom.”
Karen
smiled back. Dana did not. She fidgets with her teal necklace and looked down
at the table. The women had margaritas while Ben’s dad worked on his 3rd
beer. Paper plates with barbecue sauce and salad dressing. Crumpled orange
napkins scattered across the forest green tabletop made her think of stars in
the sky, the plates and drinks being nebulae, moons, and galaxies.
Karen
eyed Ben, “He’s gotten pretty big too, are you playing any sports this year?”
Ben
hasn’t played sports since 3rd grade baseball so he wasn’t sure why
she kept asking that at least once a year. The way Karen suggested he’s getting
“pretty big” made Ben feel self-conscious. The last time he went shopping with
his mom they had bought “husky” style pants. Despite his protests, those were
the only ones that fit well for his short inseam and wide waist.
Ben
is feeling uncomfortable as well. He looks down at the table with his hands in
his pocket. The table reminds him of a single celled organism where the plates,
drinks and napkins are all Mitochondria and Ribosomes.
The
kids both feel uncomfortable as the adults scrutinize their growing bodies.
Dana wishes she had the cloak of invisibility, not the imagined one, but a real
enchanted cloak so that she could not be seen; to disappear from the critiquing
eyes of the adults. Not that the parents were saying anything mean in their own
personal contexts, but their children felt as though their very lives were
being judged by this panel of trusted adults.
As
it got late they came inside and started getting ready to leave. The girls put
on their shoes and Karen slung her purse over her shoulder. Ben’s mom walks
them out to the front and waved them off.
Nobody
noticed this, except for Ben. There was a grey car, and a man in a hat sitting
in the driver seat. The car was off and the window was slightly cracked. Using
his spy skills Ben noted the license plate, a yellow, cardboard rectangle. A
temporary plate.
Ben
spied Dana and her family rounding the corner from the window. They were two
streets up but he was able to see them in the streetlight’s glow. Once they had
disappeared from his sight Ben watched the grey sedan start up and pull out of
the space it had occupied. The car went past a few houses and flicked on the
lights and drove straight, passing where Dana had turned.
Summer
was just beginning. Workers mow the lawns that the townhomes share. Hispanic
men wearing long-sleeved flannel button-up shirts. Green hats topped their
heads and kept the sun from their eyes. The boss is also Hispanic but his
attire sets him apart considerably. His clean white polo shirt shined in the
sun. He stood by the edge of a man-made pond with a sparkling fountain in the
center. He seems at ease directing his crew, but soon seeks shelter in the
air-conditioned cool of his truck to use his cell phone. His green hat hangs
from the rear view mirror.
Ben’s
house is empty, both of his parents are at work. The house is quiet and has a
sound vacuum. He turns on the TV to a cartoon and pours himself a bowl of
cereal. The sunlight came through the sliding glass door in a squat rectangle
and Ben put his feet in the perimeter it had warmed. He wore an oversized
t-shirt and mesh shorts. The telephone rang.
“Hello?”
Ben answered.
“Hi,
this is Susan from AT&T. May I speak with the person in charge of making
decisions about your phone service.” A calm voice responds on the other side of
the line.
“Um.”
Ben stammered.
“Mr.
Krueger, I was just looking at your long distance bill and we at AT&T
wanted to offer you a special deal that would let you make calls to friends and
family all over the country.”
Ben
responded, “My dad’s not home right now, can he call you back?”
He
had never been mistaken for his father on the phone. However, the operator had
never spoken with his dad as far as he knew. Ben wondered whether his voice was
deepening; he liked the idea of that.
After
breakfast Ben showered, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He traced his
fingertips along the few upper lip hairs he had. The feel of these thin hairs
being brushed from side to side made Ben feel manly, grown up. He imagined the
bald toy face with magnetic hair, the kind that one could manipulate the magnet
shavings to create hairstyles, mustaches and beards. He feels like the man in
the plastic, hair shifting and changing. He thought of his armpit hairs that
are growing thinly and poking out. The deodorant bar in his underarms was cold,
he slid it back and forth until a layer of deodorant accumulated in his
armpits. He wiped the steam from the mirror in the bathroom and looked upon his
own growing body. The figure in the mirror is him, yes it is, but it’s slightly
older than he is. The reflection betrayed Ben, the Ben that stared back at him
is not who he feels he looks. Feeling nearly out of body he dried off and put
on some shorts and a shirt.
Ben
got on his bike, an 8 speed mountain bike, and pedaled toward the video store.
The store is about 2 miles up the road from his house and when he got there he
locked up his bike. Two older boys from school came walking by chewing on beef
jerky and Doritos. The taller of the two boys wore jeans and a t-shirt while
the shorter boy had on a basketball jersey. Ben made brief eye contact and
nodded at them.
“Fag.”
One of the boys muttered.
The
other boy guffawed, “Yeah, huhuh, faggot.”
And
they continued walking.
Ben’s
face burns with hate, or maybe embarrassment. He’s not even sure the feeling
that he’s having. Is it envy of their security? Does he wish to be in the kind
of position where he could berate some unknown person without consequence. Ben
wondered how it felt to do that and why it is that someone would.
“Faggot!”
Yelled the shorter boy.
Rage
bubbled up inside the 12 year old, he felt a hatred towards those two boys, he
wished them harm. He hoped they would get run over by a car. He wished that
they would get beaten badly by a group of black gang members, or that they
would fall off of a cliff.
They were about 12
yards from Ben now and other adults in the strip mall lot where the video store
is turned and looked. One mother walking with her child gave them a
disapproving look, not that the boys saw her.
Ben went into the video
store and walked towards the new releases. Tuesdays had a deal for 99 cent
rentals. Ben grabbed the movie his parents wanted, a highly acclaimed drama,
and headed toward the comedy section. A grey-haired man with glasses came out
of the back room where the owner of the store had converted the closet into an
adult movie section. Ben brought 4 movies to the front and took out a 5 dollar
bill. The girl working in front was an 8th grader from his school.
She was popular, Ben knew her name, but she didn’t know his.
“Hi,
card please.” The girl reached over the counter with her palm extended.
Ben
gave her his family’s membership card. Seeing her painted nails he suddenly
thinks she is prettier than she actually in. He blushes lightly and doesn’t
talk.
“That’s
4.26, this one is due back tomorrow and the other 3 are due on Friday.” She
gave him 74 cents change and a warm smile. “Have a nice day.”
Ben
took the movies and went next door to a discount bakery. With his change he
bought a small apple pie, a little plastic juice bottle and a bag of ramen
noodles. Outside of the stores he unlocks the bike and sits on the curb. He
peels back the lid of the juice bottle and tosses the pie into the bag with the
movies. Cracking the chunk of noodles into smaller pieces, he then pours the
granulated seasoning onto the dry noodles. He begins crunching away at the
salty treat.
Halfway
through the ramen he hears a familiar voice, it’s both dry and smooth. It’s
Steve, Dana’s dad. He’s strolling along the strip mall with a bag of Chinese
takeout food in his hand. Jade China Inn has become Steve’s choice for easy
eats. Living as a bachelor for the first time in 14 years has taken a toll on
his voice as he has increased his smoking.
“Yeah,
right over there. There’s a pool too, so that’s cool.” Steve was chatting with
a girl who appeared to be in her mid 20’s. He seemed to be either dumbing down
his speech or to sound cool; whichever it was, Ben was not familiar with this
new lexicon he used. Steve had been known to be witty and had a wide
vocabulary. During those dinners his parents would have Ben enjoyed
eavesdropping on Steve pilot a conversation with his smooth voice and complex
terminology.
Ben
looked up towards Dana’s dad and waited to be acknowledged. Steve looked down
directly at Ben, then looked back at the girl he was talking to. She was nearly
his height, about 5’9”, and wore a spaghetti strap top. Her sandals slapped her
heels with a clipping sound every step she took. She held a bag with a loaf of
bread, pickles and nutty bars swinging at her side.
Steve
looked back as they passed Ben, then he laughed a half-hearted laugh along with
the girl. Ben suddenly felt almost as angry as he was when being taunted. Here
is this man who he has known for nearly five years which is about 40% of his
life and he’s acting completely out of character. The warm-voiced father figure
had become an older man on the prowl. This patriarch had become something else
in the space of 6 of 7 weeks. Ben felt betrayed.
“Mr.
Monogham!” Ben yelled, but Steve was either too far away or he was ignoring
him.
While
riding his bike back home Ben sees the two older boys.
“Queer
fuck!” The shorter boy had a real crappy attitude.
Later
that evening Ben ate dinner with his parents which they did about twice a week
but sometimes only once. They always did on Tuesdays and they would watch a
funny movie from the dinner table while they ate. Then they would get up and
continue the movie on the couch. Ben liked this ritual and always felt safe and
warm watching these movies.
However,
after dinner his parents told him that they were going to watch their
award-winning drama upstairs in their room. Ben was to watch the movie alone.
The
comedy he had rented was a bit juvenile and somewhere near the halfway mark of
the movie there are two topless women in bikini bottoms. He became acutely
aware of his parent’s absence. If they were there they would have covered his
eyes or told him not to look. They weren’t though. Ben looked around with
caution and shame, the movie had aroused him greatly. He had seen biological
diagrams of women before, but the movie featured live, flesh and blood women
with large breasts and pretty faces. They wiggled on the screen while the main
character, a popular comedy actor playing a millionaire playboy, ordered them
to do so. Ben imagined himself ordering women around as the character did in
the movie. He pictured what it would be like to have such power over the
opposite sex, surely he would never feel intimidated by them again. He would be
able to approach them and talk without the fear of being dismissed immediately,
the fear of rejection. But he is no millionaire playboy.
The
next day Ben was up around 9. The morning news was on while his dad got ready;
his mom had already gone to her job as an English teacher at the high school.
His dad grabbed the paper and his portable coffee cup, “Bye Ben call me if you
go out.” and closed the door behind him.
Ben
biked up to the strip mall to return the new release. It was humid out, this
caused his shirt to stick to his back and arms unpleasantly. He brought the
movies to the drop off slot at the video store and waved at the girl inside.
She looked up and reciprocated with a minor wave. A fire truck turned at the
nearby intersection with its sirens blaring, then an ambulance. A few minutes
later a police car came racing out of the strip mall parking lot and turned in
the direction that the fire truck had gone with the lights lit up but no siren
wailing.
The
sound of sirens crying like loud, mechanical babies stayed nearby and Ben became
curious. Instead of going to the discount bakery to buy a snack he took his
bike around the corner in the direction of the emergency vehicles. There were
police cars on either side of a semi-truck in one lane while the officers
directed traffic in the single other lane. The ambulance was parallel to the
truck and the fire truck had pulled to the shoulder of the road. He rode his
bike up the sidewalk on the opposite side of the vehicles. The path he’s on is
littered with chip bags and soda cans, his bike chain bounces as he jumps off
the curb near another police car. The police cruiser sat across from the truck
with an officer inside filling out forms.
Ben
crossed the street to get a closer look, one of the officers directing traffic
told him that he “wouldn’t want to see this.” He snooped around the truck
disregarding the cop’s suggestion.
Dark
rubber skid marks dragged for 30 feet. The lines in the street seeming like
dull wax spread parallel. A basketball shoe, an Air Jordan to be specific lay
in the grass on the side of the road past the sidewalk. The holographic emblem
of Michael Jordan leaping the air, arms and legs akimbo, flashing in the sun.
Roughly 15 feet from the end of the skid marks the paramedics huddled close,
barking at each other. The heat of the road, which had been re-paved earlier
that year, rose toward them in curled waves; from a distance it would appear
that they were kneeling into a shimmering road oasis. Ben stood on the curb
between the back of the ambulance and the truck.
The front of the truck
was not damaged in the collision. It’s flat grill and headlights had accumulated
a caking of summer dust but nothing else. At the top of the truck’s grill is a
bulldog, standing squarely, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The figurine could
not have been able to see what lay heaping below its bulldog gait.
It was a boy, or a
young man. Or an adolescent. A more appropriate and immediate label would be a
dying male. In fact, it was the 8th grade boy from the other day,
the shorter one who had called Ben a “faggot.” He felt a pinch of guilt for
wishing such a fate on the boy. Ben would have probably felt guiltier had the
very moment not seemed so surreal.
Ben
could tell it was the shorter boy because he was wearing the same basketball
jersey as the other day except that now the jersey had been neatly sheered up
the middle to allow access to his torso. His left leg lay mangled and curled,
his body and leg forming a J shape. The shin bone had snapped in half and the
top part poked through the skin, dirt from the underside of the truck’s bumper
had ground itself into the wound. His jaw slung to the right betraying the 8th
graders true feeling: pain and shock. His eyes however, did not lie. A gash to
the side of his left eye had a towel pushed down on it to stop the bleeding but
just above the blood-soaked towel were two blue-ish green eyes screaming with
the agony that only being hit by a speeding semi can create. Tears slowly
dripped from the edges of the eyes as they darted about trying to communicate
the pain of the moment, which is possibly why the EMTs made as little eye
contact as possible. Then, the eyes saw Ben, the person he had tormented a few
days before, though he did not recognize him as such. In his current
predicament the shattered boy couldn’t recall bullying Ben.
The
8th grader, suffering a serious concussion and in a neck brace,
could not look down. He could not see his torso, or his abdomen both of which
had become a grotesque sight. All he could feel was wet coldness on his chest
and stomach, the difficulty breathing, and the extraordinary pain.
As
the paramedics lifted the stretcher to standing height Ben could get a better
look. They adjusted the I.V. line and checked the restraint straps to ensure
that the victim could ride safely to the hospital. When they did this Ben
observed the boy’s injuries. One side of his chest had caved in a considerably,
Ben noticed the struggle of his breathing. Even more horrifying were the
injuries to his abdomen which appeared to have burst open, a tangle of
intestines hung over the elastic of his basketball shorts.
The
driver of the truck sat in the back of the squad car in front of the ambulance,
he was handcuffed. One police officer stood on the side of the car making radio
calls and another stood by the front of the car taking statements from two
witnesses. The witnesses were an older woman and the short boy’s
co-bully/friend.
Snot
bubbled from the taller boy’s nose as he sobbed heavily as any 5 year old.
Blood streaked his hands and waistline. Unknown to the police officer
interviewing him, the boy had fished into his injured friend’s pockets to
remove a pack of cigarettes. He didn’t want his friend to get in trouble.
Ben
pumps the pedals of his bike. Standing so that he could move faster. Going back
towards home, the ambulance passed him with the sirens on full alarm. He
thought about the crumpled boy in the vehicle. His mind circled around being
called a “faggot.” What hurt him the most was that he didn’t know either of
them. They had reached out and randomly hurled insults at someone smaller than
them.
He
passed Dana’s house and noticed that the garage was slightly cracked, about 8
inches open. Dana and Ben talked everyday during school, they arrived together
on the bus and on half days Karen would pick them up. They would stop and get
fast food on those days, Ben was fond of the one time they had parked and ate
their burgers as a grey rainstorm hung overhead. Now, during the break from
school, he wanted to stop by or call her but he had never done that. They had
always had their social activities scheduled by their parents.
Ben’s
mom has come home early today, she had a dental appointment in the around 10
and took the rest of the day off. On first inspection of her son she’s unable
to tell what he had seen. The feelings he has toward what he had seen do not
seem adequate. Was is the fact that the injured boy had been mean to him? The
thing that sticks with him the most is the look in the boy’s eyes. The terror,
the pain. The shock of being fine one moment, then a loud sound, his vision
became scrambled, down became everywhere. The impact crushed his leg and ripped
his abdomen open. Ben had saw it all.
“Hey Benny.” His mom
greeted him with a numb mouth. She felt as though Ben was too old to be called
“Benny” but he was certainly too old for his other nickname: “Squirt.” She
called him this because of his affinity for grapefruit soda and his size at the
time.
“Hi mom.” He replied
with a loud mumble.
“You can have some
milkshake I have leftover,” she pointed to a cup on the counter, “ I can’t chew
for a couple hours.”
Ben grabs the cup, “thanks
mom,” he slurped at the drink. Instead of opening his mouth to tell her what
had happened, what he saw, he filled his mouth with the vanilla milkshake. He
drank it and pictured the eyes of the boy who had been in the accident.
He walked up to his room.
Later that night his
mom and he ate taquitos with a salad and salsa. Ben drank a clear, lemon-lime
soda. Across the table Ben’s mom eyed him, she remembered that just a few short
years ago Ben’s face would be obscured by his beverage, sometimes becoming
warped behind his clear beverages. Her boy was growing bigger, the drink was
now squarely in front of his chest warping the appearance of his striped shirt.
“Mom?” Ben’s voice rose
as children’s often do when they ask for something. “Could I have Mrs. Karen’s
number so I can call Dana?” Karen had always preferred that Ben and other kids
referred to her as “Mrs. Karen.” Ben wondered if she would change it to “Ms.
Karen” now that she was separated.
“Sure kid, I’ll write
it down on a post-it for you a little later.”
“Can I have it now
actually mom? Cuz I’m going to call after we eat.”
“Ok.” Ben’s mom said.
She wanted to know more about why he wanted the number with such immediacy. She
knew of adolescent boys. She contemplated whether or not her boy wanted to kiss
her. If he wanted to be her boyfriend and to take her on dates. It seemed as
though 12 years old was so long ago. She herself went to a carnival with a boy
when she was 14, but so did her older sister and her friends. These are
different times, and the kids are growing so fast. Just the other night a news
special was on alarming parents to the threat of kids getting high using cough
syrup. There was even a pamphlet sent home to warn parents about kids using the
internet for pornography; or as the handout phrased it, “inappropriate images.”
Who knows what her child wanted to do with that girl. His mother didn’t, and it
worried her to no end. The fear of being a grandmother ran through her mind.
All that Ben wanted to
do was walk with her to 7-11. He wanted to sit and watch TV with her and talk
about love. That’s what he wanted, he wanted love. Not of a sexual nature, but
of pure intentions. Ben had felt sexual feelings before, but they were for
anyone his age, for older women, for high school girls. Girls his own age are
too young for him to view sexually, his desire for her love springs from a
tender place. And maybe, just maybe, he would kiss her and they would hold each
other. This is what Ben wanted.
He wanted to call her.
After dinner he went to his room and looked at the piece of junk mail envelope
his mom had written the number on. The paper seemed so important to him, but he
couldn’t bring himself to call her. He fell asleep with it on his nightstand.
The next day he slept
in until 11. He woke and ate a bowl of cereal and a hard-boiled egg. Finally,
he worked up the nerve and that afternoon at 1 PM, he called her.
Melissa answered,
“Helloooo,” she sang into the phone
“Hi, uh, can I speak to
Dana?”
“Can I ask who’s
calling?”
“Yeah, this is Ben,
from down the street.” Melissa knew no other Ben.
“Hang on,” Melissa
pulled the phone away from her head and yelled, “Daaanaaaaa!” Muffled and
distant, Ben could hear her call for her sister. A half a minute went by which
seems like forever to Ben. Dana clicked onto the line.
“Hello?” Dana answered
with a friendly tone.
“Hi, this is Ben.”
“Oh hey Ben. What’s
up?”
“Not much, I’m just
hanging out, watching TV. You know. What about you?”
“Yeah I’m just hanging
out.” She paused, “guess what?”
“What’s that?”
“My mom’s going out of
town overnight, and my sister is going to have a party.”
“Cool. That’s cool.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna have a
couple of friends over too, but mostly it’s going to be high school kids,
Melissa’s friends”
“Awesome, well, I just
wanted to see if you wanted to hang out today but you’ll probably be busy
getting your party ready and stuff.” Ben stammered, “I’ll give you a call next
week and maybe we can hang out. Bye.” He hung up. Being on the phone with a
girl is a completely new feeling. From the second half of the call onward Ben
felt nervous, exposed. He felt as though he was failing the phone call, and to
cut his losses quickly by hanging up.
The phone rang back.
Ben picked it up, “Hello?”
“Hi, Ben.” Dana’s sweet
voice perked through the phone.
“Hi.”
“You hung up so fast, I
wanted to ask you if you wanted to come over on Friday for the party?”
“Yeah, that’s cool,
I’ll do that.”
“Ok, come over around
5.”
“Ok, 5, see you then.”
He hung up prematurely again, missing Dana saying goodbye.
The next day Ben pieced
together what he would tell his mom so that he could go to Dana’s party, an
unsupervised party, with high school kids. He was nervous, would the high
schoolers pick on him for no reason like those boys? Would Dana want to kiss
him? How would he kiss her? What would he say so that she would let him?
The rest of the day he
spent at home playing video games, and in the evening he selected his outfit
for the party. Unsure of what to wear, he spent two hours combing his closet,
combining shirts, pants and shorts. He settled on a white Adidas shirt with a
large orange emblem in the middle and a pair of blue jeans. Then he went to
talk to his mom.
“Mom, can I go over to
Alex’s house tomorrow night?” Ben asked.
“Is it OK with his
mom?” Usually she would call but she didn’t know Alex’s parents very well. She
had met them once when she brought him over there once and decided that they
are responsible enough to host her kid. It’s just that Alex’s parents spoke
heavily accented English. They were Russian nationals and had come to America
when Alex was 6. Alex and Ben were in the same class at school. Ben knew that
his mom wouldn’t call to verify the story, that’s why he claimed to be going to
Alex’s house.
“Yeah, she’s fine with
it.” Ben lied. “Alex is going to get a pizza and we’re going to watch a movie
over there. I’ll take my bike over there.” Alex lives just behind 7-11.
That night Ben tossed
and turned. Nervous energy bolted through his as he wiggles in his bed.
Tomorrow is a big day for Ben, he can feel it. It’s not the lie to his mom that
worried him, it’s the fact that he would be going to see Dana without the
pretense of their parent’s doing something. No, this meeting is initiated by
Ben, and Dana invited him over.
“This is the day.” Ben thought.
The morning sun bled through his blinds, he lay facing the ceiling, hands
behind his head. He looked at his armpit and the sparse hair inside. “I’m going
to ask her out, and we’ll be a couple. We can kiss.” His ideas of what would happen
swirled about in his head.
He spent the afternoon,
watching TV and pacing back and forth. He put his shoes on at 3:30. Before his
mom came home he went into his parent’s bedroom and sprayed Cool Water on
himself. 9 sprays to be exact. At 4:15 he biked over to 7-11 and bought some
minty gum.
Finally 4:45 rolled
around and he heads over to Dana’s house smelling strongly of cologne. In front
of Dana’s house he notes that her garage door is cracked once more. He knocks
on the door at 4:55.
“Hi!” Melissa answered
the door. “Dana’s upstairs.”
Ben entered with a
smile and then a silent nod to two of Melissa’s teen girl friends. Nobody else
is there. He came to the party far too early. He knocked on Dana’s door.
“Come in.” She called
out.
“Hi.”
“Beeeeen!” She
exclaimed, her excitement visible. Ben was stunned, he had never elicited this
type of reaction from her before. He pictured the night being magical, like a
party from a movie, where the nerd kisses the hot girl and everyone goes in the
pool with their clothes on. Dana went on, “Come downstairs, there’s more people
coming.”
Dana and Ben sat on the
living room couch while more high school students came. There’s about 12 of
them in total including Melissa. One of them had brought a case of beer and a
bottle of vodka with a handle on them. Ben saw the alcohol, his stomach
clenched. “I’m only 12, I can’t drink.” He thought. Then another thought came
to mind, “I’m almost a teenager, I could drink if I want to.” Here he is,
somewhere between childhood and adulthood. No one had ever talked to Ben about
drinking besides what he had heard from his parents and one school assembly at
the beginning of 6th grade. The sun set slowly, by the time it had
almost disappeared over the horizon the last of Dana’s guests arrived. It was
the taller boy, the friend of the 8th grade boy who had been hit by
the truck. He and Ben made eye contact but Ben was unaware whether or not the
boy recognized him. The boy did, but he said nothing. Dana gave him an
enthusiastic hug. His name is Chad. Dana kissed him, right on the lips.
Ben’s heart sank. Dana
turned around.
“Chad and I have been
dating for 4 months,” she said to Ben, “we’re going to keep going out even
though he’ll be a freshman next year.”
Ben felt inferior. Here
he is, this husky not-yet-a-man. And then this lanky “Chad” shows up, scruff on
his chin, a large adam’s apple. His legs are even hairier then Ben’s. Jealousy
and anger burn him from the inside.
“How could she date
this fucking asshole?” He raged silently.
Dana turned to the girl
next to Ben, an Asian girl with short, straight hair. Dana pulled her necklace
forward from her neck.
“He got this for me on
our one month anniversary.” Proudly displaying the jewelry Chad had given her.
Ben grit his teeth.
The party went by fast.
Ben continued attempting to procure alone time with Dana, he didn’t know what
he would say to her but he imagined it would have something to do with Chad
calling him a “faggot.” But he couldn’t separate them. At one point he had
grabbed both their attention, he brought up Chad’s injured friend.
“I saw all the
ambulances and stuff, is he OK?”
“He’s in the hospital
now, but the doctor said he’s gonna live. His guts were hanging out and his leg
was all fucked up, it was crazy.” Chad replied. Dana stared up at this older
boy her eyes contained adoration for Chad.
Ben’s plans had been
obliterated. This girl he had pined after, now in the arms of some jackass? It
was more than Ben could take.
“Hey kid, come here.” A
high schooler in a black shirt motioned for him. “You ever have vodka before?
Haha.” The teenager could tell he had not.
“No, but I had a beer
before.” Ben replied, referring to the time his dad split a beer with him so
that he could find out how it tasted. He didn’t like it.
The teen poured a red
party cup half full of vodka and handed it to Ben.
“Drink it, use this as
a chaser,” he set down an orange soda on the counter.
Ben had made a leap,
his hand gripped the cup, he had accepted the challenge. Is this what he needs
to become more adult? The liquor went down his throat with incredible ease. He
finished the cup in 4 deep gulps followed by some drinks from the orange soda.
Then he wandered off, hearing the teens laugh and point at him from behind.
“That kid is drunk as
fuck, I’ll bet you he pukes.”
A
few minutes later and he began to feel warmth throughout his body. Dizziness
clouded his brain and vision. The room felt as though it was tilting. So he sat
on the couch in the front room. On the love seat next to the couch a couple
kissed and fondled each other. It was Dana and Chad, completely oblivious to
their surroundings. Chad put his hand on her breast and she pulled it off. He
pawed at it again, and again she batted it down. Ben saw all of this and his
jealousy boiled inside.
Finally, Chad took her
hand and led her upstairs to her room. Ben wondered what they would do,
somewhat already knowing. Melissa suddenly appeared by his side. The smell of
alcohol rolled off of her tongue. She put her arm around Ben, her breast
hanging parallel to his chin. Her closeness excited Ben, no girl or woman had
ever been this close to him without being related.
“Youuuu, like my sister
don’t you?” Melissa sung this question too, she seemed more outgoing now that
she had been drinking.
“Uhh, nooo.”
“Don’t lie, I can
tell.” She was closer now, Ben saw her exposed midsection as her shirt was just
barely long enough. Melissa continued, “You know, Chad’s her boyfriend, but
that won’t last forever. The truth is, I think she kinda likes you too.”
This gave Ben hope. His
stomach churned with potato chips and vodka, he let out a quiet burp. Just
then, Melissa leaned in so quickly and unexpectedly that he burped into her
face. She resembled her dad, unlike Dana who looked more like her mother. Her
hair was lighter and she had a smaller nose. Melissa’s other hand set down on
Ben’s shoulder as she pulled him near, then she kissed him.
It wasn’t at all what
Ben expected. He had thought that their lips would touch once and that would be
it. No, Melissa kissed him sloppily, drunkenly and with an open mouth. Her
breath had a slight hint of sour cream and onion chips. Their lips came
together and Melissa’s tongue pried his mouth open. It darted about in his
mouth at first as Ben tried his hardest to reciprocate. Then she twisted it in
a counter clockwise motion. Then it was over, just like that.
Melissa stood up and
blew a kiss into her palm and then touched Ben’s cheek. Ben then rose to his
own feet. He was no longer as jealous as he had been before, or curious about what
Dana and Chad did. Ben stepped out front where a guy argued into his cell phone
while smoking a cigarette. Voices came from the cracked garage door along with
a strong smell, like fresh grass clippings burning. He walked towards 7-11.
Out
in the fresh summer nigh Ben threw up the liquor he had drank. He left behind a
watery, orange puddle. He popped some minty gum in his mouth and sat by the
man-made pond with the fountain in the middle. He wondered about girls, about
life and adulthood. About high school, and why women like jerks. Mysteries that
confound young men. Dizzily he looked to the skies and gazed at the stars. The
size of the sky, of the universe, it dwarfed him and he felt tiny even though
everything in his life felt so big. “This is me” He thought, recalling his
image in the mirror, “this is me and I’m inside of this body. I am Ben.” The
thought of being him inside of his body did not feel so foreign to him.
“I
had my first kiss tonight.” He told himself. “This is me, I’m here now.”
