Mummy insists we all have a nice dinner before I fly back to Ames. Daddy says to use the Lear Jet, so I don’t have to go commercial. Isabelle knows exactly what I want. We feast on chicken cordon bleu. I wonder if she was sent to Paris to produce such wonderful food. Jack waits until after we leave the dining room to make his last plea to go with me. When his request is rejected, he accepts the decision without going speechless. I’m relieved he isn’t acting dumb again.
I arrive home before midnight, ready to make classes in the morning. Only the moms come to the airport, as it is a school night. After an extended weekend of LA and NYC, I’m ready for normality. Everyone is supposedly asleep, including ‘Gator in my bed. When the moms go back downstairs, the twins pile in with us, wanting to know everything. I moan and pass out. They have to wait until morning for the sordid details of Andy World.
All too soon, ‘Gator is shaking me awake.
“Wanna go milkin’?”
I moan and bury my head under the pillow.
“Ol’ Bessie’s been a’missin’ y’all,” he argues.
Appealing to my heart-strings, he knows how to get me up. There’ll be no sleeping in and no Isabelle’s Eggs Benedict for breakfast. Bessie does seem glad to see me. We’re soon back at Hyland Street for Mom’s blueberry pancakes (since I’d missed their usual Sunday morning appearance). I had the Post’s Page Six celebrity photos to regale everyone with my renewed fame.
“Now I knows why y’all wears them funky britches,” ‘Gator concludes.
The moms are less sure why Jack and I frequently have to undress in public. My attention addiction is obvious for all who know me.
Molly decides to confiscate my proof of fame, declaring, “There’s no need in advertising what you look like under your street clothes.”
We all complain, to no avail. I have to return to class as just another student ‘aiming high.’ I promise not to mention I returned by private jet for fear of seeming snobby. I skip the stories of Joey’s junkie ways in favor of my hanging out at nightclubs in Hollywood and New York. The twins even knew who Joan is, from her Runaways’ fame, calling me a ‘ch ch ch cherry bomb.’
My lack of sleep fatigue disappears by the time we get to school.
School take on its familiar routine. Mrs. McCarthy asks me to stay after English class. She has gotten a letter from Harvard Admissions, asking for further praise and details from her recommendation letter. She is ecstatic that one of her students might go to Harvard.
“I’m not sure I’ll go, if I actually get in.”
“It’s the best university in America.”
“I know, but I only applied because John Boy is going.”
She smiles like I’m the cutest thing. “Well, that is something, but you need to see all the opportunities you’ll have there. Their student drama club is called Hasty Pudding. You’ll be doing Shakespeare and other great plays”
“We call it Crème Brulee. We did Shakespeare in 11th grade.”
“I know how brilliant you are, Andy. Don’t you want to meet other brilliant students?”
I almost throw up. “Well, I may not get in. Obviously they wrote you because they are not certain I belong there.”
“I will convince them.”
I gave her a hug which produces a big smile.
“Gator is attending Spring football practice at State (just as an observer), so it’s just the three of us in the band room after classes are over. We’re dispirited without ‘Gator to spur us on. I tell the twins about my audition at the Troubadour, where I did some of the Triplets’ songs. Angie is mad at me for chasing Joan out of the club. I omit that I used a hard-on to scare her away.
“She’s a star, Andy. How did you meet her?”
“I saw her smoking outside a recording studio and liked her all-leather outfit. We hit it off. My friend has a beat-up Datsun. We drove around Hollywood. She sat on my lap.”
“Did she know you’re gay?”
“It was something else that came up.”
“Ew, gross,” they both exclaim.
“I asked her and her friends to come to my audition so I had someone to sing to.”
“How did the audition go?”
“The club owner told me to grow up – too many antics.”
Then I tell them the story about Joey disappearing at the airport in New York. Their reaction reflects everyone’s poor impression of my junkie cousin.
“It’s hard to explain why he means so much to me. You think I’m wild. He’s been that way since running away to New York City when he was fifteen. If something happens to him, I’ll be crushed.”
“Andy? You’ve had a boyfriend who was shot and killed in front of you. John Boy almost died from snake bite. Your old band has a drummer who OD’s from heroin. Your cousin’s sick from drugs. He’ll probably die or at best end up in jail. You’ve done everything possible to save him. Now it’s up to him. You can’t save everyone,” Angie always speaks her mind.
“Joey’s the first person I ever loved. I stopped being a self-centered kid. The world opened up to me when I no longer thought just about myself.”
“You’re so deep,” Amy reflects. “I think I know what you mean. We love you, Andy, just like you do your cousin. We were just hicks from the sticks and never thought about anyone but ourselves. Now we have ‘Gator to deal with. Thanks a lot.”
“How’s that going?” I laugh, not really wanting to know.
“You really care?”
“Maybe just that it’s good?”
“It’s crazy. He’s incredible. His heart is so big. We don’t even think about his cheerleader/girlfriend. He tries really hard to understand us. With you, he can love you like the brother he never had. With us, he tries to appreciate the twin things between us and wants to share in it.”
We lapse into silence for a while. I pick up a guitar and run some chords, riffing off of myself. The twins start humming before coming up with random phrases to respond to my music and their feelings about their mutual boyfriend. We create a chorus based on the old daisy chain rhyme:
‘he loves me/he loves me not
He loves you/ he loves me not
He loves me not/he loves you
He loves you/he loves me too’
It’s just fun just creating a mood together.
“Just fooling around. It’s called ‘Boyfriend Confusion.’ Andy, played some of our songs at an audition in Hollywood.”
“Gonna be a star, Andy?” he casually remarks, like it is predestined.
“Naw. They told me I’s too young and needs ta grow up.”
“Ya ready for farm chores, or is ya too famous for milkin’ cows.”
“Never, but maybe’s y’all can do the muckin’ out.”
Everyone laughs. Our jam session ends. Ol’ Bessie was a’waitin’ my soft hands.
My Pizza Pit manager lys down the law. I have missed so many shifts, he is thinking of hiring a replacement. I promise better attendance. I feel it is unfair to fire me from a two-hour shift – the desperation of the minimum wage worker. I like driving around Ames and the tips are good. Spring has definitely come to the prairie. My mood lifts. When I call Jack, he gets upset that I’m not as miserable as he supposedly is from missing me. It isn’t the hormones, as Jace has been keeping him busy all night long.
“Maybe you need more beauty sleep,” I suggest. My humor is not appreciated.
By week’s end, I was comfortably back into my routine. Jack had his Regis Knight Corps at his beck and call. His appearance on Page Six was noticed by the Monseigneur at Regis High. The Knights are now charged with keeping him out of further trouble. To allay his boredom, I suggest he take the Knights to the Stone family farm in Vermont. Their milking skills need not go to waste. Even Jack reports it was a success. Jace reports that the Regis boys experience repressed attraction to their fairy charge, but no overt activity has occurred. I should think about unforeseen consequences when I send Jack off to the country with repressed ROTC cadets.
In mid-April my application for admission to Harvard is approved. Ames High’s teachers and staff act as if they’re on a sugar high. Even students come up to congratulate me. Jack is allowed to come visit for the weekend. He is over the moon that I’ve been accepted. Dad is the only nay sayer, with an annual cost over $6000 for tuition, room and board. I point out that he is already paying more than that in child support. What I don’t bring up is our old argument about getting an athletic scholarship for swimming. Jack points out that Harvard only gives aid to those from poor families. Everyone assumes I am enthusiastic about four more years of studying. What happened to the days of the ditch pad at Jace’s garage?
Jack arrives with just one Regis Knight, Seamus, to protect him. Bessie will be pleased. Seamus has taken a shine to ‘Gator, as everyone generally does. They sit up discussing the ins and outs of farming on the prairie. I’m glad to sleep in on Saturday morning when ‘Gator drags Seamus for milking. I am slightly jealous that Bessie might not even notice the difference. With no one to protect him, Jace and I make short work of fucking John Boy, our morning delight. We are making up for lost time, with an evening and now a morning fuck-fest. Taking a break, we fantasize about rooming together in college. We end up singing the Shondells ‘Love that Dirty Water.’
I hate how I have to try to be as ‘rah rah’ as Jack. Once he stops celebrating and notices my lesser enthusiasm, he has a Jack minor meltdown. I assure him that it was still months away. I will be perfectly happy as long as we are together.
“You’re just doing it for me,” he sniffs.
“I could always go back to Florida when I’m 18 and go to junior high with Tommy.”
He gives me a dirty look. Then he laughs, “Tommy’s still in junior high?”
“He just turned 15. What did ya think?”
“I thought he was my big rival.”
“You made me be so mean to him. He was abused.”
“Good,” never one to forget a grudge.
We shower and go down for breakfast. ‘Gator and Seamus are already tucking into eggs, bacon and biscuits with gravy.
“How’s ol’ Bessie?” I ask.
“Didn’t miss y’all one bit,” Seamus is picking up a drawl. “’Gator here told me a chicken joke. Wanna hear it?”
‘Gator looks uncomfortable, so naturally we have to hear his farm joke.
“Ian Ethan, a chicken rancher, decides it’s time to replace his old rooster, Red, who’s not keeping the hens fully satisfied.”
The moms quickly leave the dining room to finish cleanup in the kitchen.
“The first day a young rooster arrive, old Red challenge him to a foot race around the barnyard to prove who was the fittest. Red quickly gets out in the lead but as they approach the hallway mark, Red is tiring. Just as he passes the Ethan’s porch, ‘BAM,’ the young rooster is blown away by a shotgun blast. The next four days, new roosters appears. Old Red raced the young studs, and each day ‘BAM’ Ian Ethan blows away the new bird.
“I ain’t buying no more roosters from that Perdue Ranch,” Ian Ethan complains. “They’s ain’t got nothin’ but faggot roosters trying ta git at my old rooster, Red.”
The girls and I burst into giggles and laughter. ‘Gator is relieved we don’t take offense. Jack looked distressed at the anti-gay joke. I punch him on the arm.
“Just think ‘bout ol’ Robert Maplethorpe chasin’ ya ’round the Dakota.”
Now, Seamus finally figures out that it isn’t the Baptists he has to defend Jack from.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t know.”
Jack laughs. “Don’t tell the Monseigneur. We’ll all be in trouble.”
“I likes ya, Jack. Jist not in that way.”
“Well, we won’t tell Monseigneur ‘bout ya bein’ sweet on ol’ Bessie, either.”
Seamus’s hair and complexion turn even redder.
‘Gator has organized the first barn party of the year that Saturday night, to show the ‘real’ Iowa to the New Yorkers. We agree to perform an acoustic set by The Triplets Plus 1, with special guest, John Boy. ‘Gator promises to keep his drumming under control, by mostly riding his high hat and snare drum. He makes us promise we’ll play some covers by his favorite stadium rockers, like Boston, Journey, and Electric Light Orchestra. ELO’s current hit ‘Evil Woman’ is nixed by our feminist bass section as misogynistic. We agree to ‘Don’t Bring Me Down,’ as a compromise. We put Seamus on the spot, insisting he sing one song. He choses ‘Danny Boy.’ After rehearsing all afternoon, the moms put on a barbecue dinner when ‘Gator and Seamus return from milking. I’m starting to miss Bessie. John Boy takes the edge off with a quick blow job in the third floor bathroom. The girls don’t say anything, even though I know they know what’s up. After we are stuffed from ribs, mashed potato and coleslaw, we leave for the barn party. ‘Gator and Seamus go in his truck, so they can pick up their cheerleader/comfort girlfriends. The twins drive their station wagon while John Boy and I make out in the back seat. Before it gets too hot and heavy, I realized the twins are depressed that their boyfriend is off getting laid that night. No wonder they aren’t excited about our performance. We jump into the front seat and try to cheer them up.
“Let’s do ‘Evil Woman’ and dedicate it to ‘Gator’s comfort girl.”
“Ew, we don’t want to even acknowledge that she exists,” Angie disagrees.
“I thought you liked him working off his hormones elsewhere.”
“We’re not listening.”
John Boy and I start singing,
‘You made a fool of me, But them broken dreams have got to end.
Evil woman. Evil woman. Evil woman. Evil woman’
Songwriters: JEFF LYNNE
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
“Slow down, slow down,” we scream.
“Then stop mocking us. ‘Gator’s lovelife is none y’all’s biznuss.”
We shut up. Angie slows down. I guess that their sex lives are unsatisfactory. I don’t want to know.
Once we find the barn, we off-load our equipment, setting up inside the circle of vehicle headlights. Instead of helping with the drum set-up, ‘Gator leads his comfort girl hand-in-hand away from the crowd. We know where that is leading. Seamus is right behind them with his girlfriend. The four of us remain with the equipment. Lame stadium rock is blasting from several pick-up truck radios. Gator has us promising we’ll play that crap.
“Let’s play those songs like we would do it – no long guitar or drum solos, no standing around like statues, and play the song fast.”
We all looked at each other and laughed.
“’Gator was told to tone down his drumming.”
“Won’t he be surprised.”
We wait for the ‘boys’ to return from their respective dates. Friends come by to say hi to John Boy, sharing beers and pot with us. I’m pissed enough at ‘Gator to not care that pot means I’ll be fagging off with John Boy. He half drags me off in a deserted direction. Once we’re clear of the party, he is all over my ass, humping and grabbing me. We flop down in a bed of alfalfa. We goat each other in our makeshift nest. I can see why people like barn parties so much. I feel a twinge of empathy for the twins, as everyone else is fucking. How great is that? Jace soon appears and offers himself as meat in our three-way sausage sandwich. We are glowing. Unfortunately, the glow can be seen by those just outside the circle of vehicle headlights. John Boy and I cum quickly, causing Jace to float above us, jerking off. He glows as he hovers. I hear whispering and murmuring converging on our love nest. Jace spots the looky-loos first. I watch him jerking it to a climax, while the looky-loos just see a glowing ball of golden light. It suddenly explodes, with a burst of ghostly sperm. They imagine the light is shooting at them. Screaming and clawing to get away, they escape back to the party. Jace disappears in a puff of golden light. We put on our clothes and wander back to the headlight circle.
“There they are. They’re alright,” the panicked teens rush up to us. “What was it like? Was ya abducted by aliens?”
“What are you talking about?” I stop them from touching and feeling us up.
“You both was lying naked on the ground and the flying saucer took off. Don’t you remember?”
“I don’t remember anything,” John Boy lies.
“Ya both was abducted by aliens. They must’ve wiped yer memories.”
“No way,” I shrug. “I ain’t never seen no aliens.”
“That flying saucer took off faster then I ever seen. Bet its half-way to Mars by now. Holy shit,” the ugliest boy exclaims, jumping up and down.
The girls are in heated discussion with ‘Gator. We run over and tell them to get ready to play. The panicked kids are telling all their friends about the flying saucer and aliens. They begin pointing at us.
“Y’all come over and we’ll tell ya all ‘bout it,” I yell as we pick up our guitars.
I whispered to ‘Gator and the girls, “Purple People Eater. ‘Gator you get to sing.”
‘Well I saw the thing comin’ out of the sky
It had the one long horn, one big eye.
I commenced to shakin’ and I said “ooh-eee”
It looks like a purple eater to me
It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater
(One-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater)
A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater
Sure looks strange to me (One eye?)
Well he came down to earth and he lit in a tree
I said Mr. Purple People Eater, don’t eat me.
I heard him say in a voice so gruff
<I wouldn’t eat you ’cause you’re so tough>’
Songwriters: S. WOOLEY
© DOTSON-WOOLEY ENTERTAINMENT
Just as soon as we end, Jace appears above our heads as a ball of light going a hundred miles an hour and swoops down on the crowd. Everyone screams. He lands on a pick-up’s roof and proceeded to jerk off until the ball explodes with silvery ghostly sperm. After scattering, the crowd sneaks to their vehicles and takes off in a cloud of prairie dust.
“What the hell?” ‘Gator is the only one not in on the joke.
“Jace made an entrance as an alien spacecraft,” Angie explains. “And stop humping Andy,” she yells at John Boy. He stops, looking chagrined.
’Gator looks confused, “Ya mean I jist saw Jace”
“No, “Gate. You saw the glow that happens when he makes us happy, like at Christmas.”
“He thinks it makes us happy that our friends and fans ran away like in a horror movie.”
“He was pretending to be the purple people eater.”
“How’s I gonna ‘splain it all?”
“The aliens liked our choice of songs?” John Boy suggests.
Now everyone laughs.
“That was the shortest concert ever,” ‘Gator proclaims.
“And the most exciting,” I declare.
The twins ride home with ‘Gator, coming into the Hyland House about half an hour after John Boy and I arrive. I figure they need to work out the hurt feelings and hormonal urges together. John Boy spills the beans to the moms about our aborted performance. They are none too pleased about us creating more controversy with our show. I omit explaining what Jace did to cause the silvery sperm to shoot out from his glowing ball of light. I’ll have to quiz the twins to make sure they aren‘t able to see him yet. Jace is lurking about, shamed by all the reactions to his pyrotechnics.
Upstairs, the six of us, including Jace, sit on the floor and reflect on the stunt he pulled.
“We can’t tell anyone what really happened,” I lay down the law.
“What did happen? I can guess why people saw you two naked in the field.”
“Splendor in the grass,” John Boy quotes Wordsworth. “nothing can bring back the hour.. of glory in the flower.”
“What made Jace start glowing?” Amy asks.
“He gets all happy when we’re all having sex,” John Boy is direct.
“Y’all? Like all three of you? How’s that work?” Angie jumps in.
“He’s forever 15. He can’t help hisself.”
“You have sex with a ghost?”
“We all can feel him. I had to let him fuck me for 24 hours non-stop so I can see him like Andy does.”
“Too much information, John Boy,” I stop him.
‘Gator is speechless for once. It’s barely midnight. We’re ready to sleep. He goes right in with the twins, leaving John Boy to share our bed alone with me. That is, until Jace pops up, glowing from his space alien impersonation. He even makes his skin appear purple.
“You are so juvenile,” John Boy observes.
“He’s been 15 for two years. Don’t be so judgmental,” I chastise John Boy.
Jace turned from purple to blue.
“I cain’t ever be growed up,” he laments.
“We don’t wants y’all ta ever change,” I declare. “We loves ya jist the way ya is.”
“But you two are already changing, goin’ ta Harvahd in a few months. John Boy was quoting Romantic poetry to the twins.”
“You’re learning right along with us. How’d y’all knows Wordsworth’s a Romantic.”
“I don’t knows, and I ain’t goin’ to class ta find out.”
“Y’all kin teach us’n how to have ghost sex. Yer dick feels like silk when ya puts it in me,” John Boy tries to mollify Jace.
“Ya mean like this,” and Jace pulls out a semi-hard-on. John Boy has a full hard-on to match. I moan and roll over. It is my turn to be fucked. With Jace in my mouth and John Boy up my ass, I’m fully occupied jerking myself as they goat me. John Boy takes my hands off my dick and gives me a full reach around. I reach behind, gripping his hips, and pull him fully up my ass on every thrust. My tongue is wrapped around Jace’s straining dick. Looking up at the ghostly face fucker, I recognize from his faraway look that he is heavily into the blow job. The tell tales signs tell me he is close to exploding down my throat. I spin him around and mount his humping ass, dragging John Boy down on top of us. The change puts John Boy over the edge. My ass is milking the blasts of orgasmic sperm while I go at the now post-coital Jace. I think about milking Bessie to keep myself from going over the edge. With my hands firmly holding John Boy’s hips against my butt, his dick never goes down. He is shaking from the over-stimulation to his depleted sperm bank. He squirms to break my grip, until he relaxes and realizes he is ready to go again. As he regains his fuck-ability, I push him from my ass. Without a hesitation he rolls around me and takes Jace’s head by the ears, pulling him to his knees and thrusting his revived member into waiting lips. John Boy and I kiss long and deep as we continue to vigorously fuck Jace from both ends. Our Frenching tongues become desperate as we reach a simultaneous climax. My reach around brings Jace off again. He has always been persistent but quick. We collapse in an exhausted fuck bundle. Only then, do we hear the multiple moans coming from the twins’ bed room. The pitch of moans is not at ‘Gator’s masculine bass level. We all laugh that no one has missed out on the night of the first barn party of 1976. All three of us start singing the Stones’ ‘Satisfaction.’
The other room joins in. Two three-ways simultaneously on the third floor confirms our mutual satisfaction. Just as I settle back to fall asleep, I realize we haven’t seen Seamus, the Regis Knight, since before the flying saucer incident. I bang on the twins’ door.
“Get up. Seamus is missing.”
“I know where he is and what he’s doing,” ‘Gator laughs.
“He should be back by now,” I argue.
“Alright. Alright. I’m getting’ up,” “Gator relents.
Throwing on our clothes, the five of us rush downstairs and out the front door.
“Stop,” John Boy orders. “There he is,” pointing to his missing Knight, sleeping it off on the porch divan.
‘Gator shakes him awake. “Why ya out here, boy? Y’all scared the daylights outta us’n.”
“I dunno,” is all Seamus can say.
“Maybe he got abducted by the space aliens,” John Boy can’t help himself from creating drama. “What do you remember, Shame? How’d ya get here?”
“Last I remember was floating away on a cloud with that girl.”
“Her name is Cindy,” ‘Gator says sharply.
“Yeah, Cindy. Well, I don’t remember anything else,” he admits.
I figure he has conveniently forgotten what he otherwise would have to confess.
“Ya don’ts remember no space ship and aliens?” ‘Gator presses the guilty one.
“Just being woke up by you, ‘Gator. Is it time to go milking?”
“Not now. Later.”
We walk him to his room on the second floor. At least, we don’t have to explain all the moaning and groaning that had happened earlier here on the third floor.
Sunday morning with Mom’s blueberry pancakes is a good way to start the week. ‘Gator and Seamus come back from milking in time to eat their fair share. Even church is tolerable. Seamus, John Boy and I go to Catholic services early, back in time to sing with First Baptist’s choir. Seamus has recovered enough to be on high alert about the Baptists. Cindy his comfort girl attends, making him feel even more sinful, when she smiles and waves to him. He turns bright red. Baptists are so forgiving.
Rumors of John Boy and me being abducted were forgotten after ‘Gator tells everyone it is Seamus who had been taken into the flying saucer and later left on the Hyland House porch. Seamus is even interviewed by the local newspaper when we are trying to eat our Sunday dinner. The moms keep quiet, even though they are in on Jace’s silvery ball of light. They seem to be relieved that neither John Boy nor I are the center of attention.
The Lear has to be back at Teterboro Airport for a Sunday night trip. It means John Boy and his Knight have to leave shortly after midday dinner. The hubbub about aliens is getting old. I worry that we will reap what we have sown in the minds of country folk. I can’t quite say it is all in good fun. Seamus is sticking to his story that he remembers nothing. When Cindy comes with us to the Ames Airport, he barely can look at her – Catholic guilt runs deep, especially when someone plans to lie in the confessional. ‘Gator explains to Cindy that all New Yorkers are snobby.
“Look at John Boy,” he points to our co-conspirator.
We hug at the gate after stealing kisses in the Men’s room. He finally accepts that Tommy is really too young for me. He agrees with my scheme to send Jace, the permanent 15-year-old, to Florida in order to cheer up my own personal Tom Sawyer. It is a plan that makes the three of us sad. I fear I’m out-growing Jace. I promise he can come to Harvard with us in the Fall. I call Tommy, who is pouty from my not calling him enough (like never). He complaining that ‘he don’t want no ghosts in his life.’
“Just see how it goes. He’ll love ya if’n y’all gives ‘im a chance.”
“I gots plenty of chances fer sex. I only wants you, Huck.”
“It’s only until I turn 18 in July,” I still am living day-to-day. July is months away. Harvard is not even on my radar. Jack even talks civilly with Tommy, telling him how he is called John Boy in Iowa. They almost bond. Just what I need – two boyfriends and a ghost.
Their leaving early means I get time to spend milking Ol’ Bessie. She totally ignores me, obviously missing Seamus, the new kid in town.
I don’t care. She is my Bessie, a true bossie, not quite me bonnie lassie. Maybe I’m high from not being sad seeing John Boy go home. She needs me to milk here dry. ‘Gator just smiles, knowing I’m so happy. He never suspects it is from that blow job in the bathroom. He just knows I’m okay. Angie takes some convincing that ‘m not about to have a meltdown or nervous breakdown. I guess it’s nice she cares so much, but too much brings you down. I worry that she’ll miss the chance to be happy by not recognizing it when it comes down the road. When I go off to deliver pizza, she finally accepts I’m okay as well. Amy never doubted it.
“Hey, Amy. I fixed the Tommy problem with John Boy,” I confide with her later. “We sent Jace to rid ‘im of his sexual frustrations. They’re both 15 now. Tommy even talked nice to John Boy.”
“You’re being evil. He’s just a boy.”
“So’s Jace. He’s trapped in a 15-year-old’s body. They’s perfect fer each other.”
She laughs. “That’s so true.”
TOMMY’S NIGHT OF HORROR
“Ol’ Huck done it agin,” Tommy murmurs to himself. “I don’t need no ghost to make me happy.”
“I’s goin’ out,” he shouts to Auntie Em, as he runs out the door. It’s late, but he knows where friends are smoking dope and hanging out. He needs to stop obsessing on Huck. It always brings him down. The old cemetery off Dixie Highway in North Lauderdale is the regular spot.
Soon he’s kicking back with four boys his age and a couple of girls, who don’t smoke but like hanging out with the boys. One girl, Tray, is talking non-stop to his left ear. He is high and stopped listening. They’ve had sex, a couple of times. It isn’t bad, just not as intense as when he does it with ol’ Huck.
“Damn, I’s getting’ ta be a total fag,” he thinks. “Maybe I just need to practice more, like when I’s 14 and always cum too soon around Huck. Hell, all Huck had ta do was sound sexy and I instantly went off. I’s too lame ta control my dick.”
“Com’n Tray, let’s go explore this here cemetery.”
“Weirdo,” one of his nameless friends remarks, winking at him to show he knows what’s up.
He grabs Tray’s hand and they wander away from the group, walking between the falling down tombstones.
“It ain’t likely they kin feel me.”
“It’s like disrespectful,” she answers.
“Hows ’bout we do it, right here, on top of a grave?” Tommy teases her.
“Ew, that’s sick.”
“I knows y’all wants it.”
“It’s too scary. I want ya ta be romantic.”
“I’ll show ya romantic,” Tommy draws her into his arms and frenches her deep and hard, his tongue thrust in synch with his mildly humping hips. He puts both hands on her booty and draws her in tight.”
“Oh, Tommy,” she squeaks. “That feels so good.”
“Let’s lay down.”
“I said I ain’t doin’ it on a grave.”
“Over here, then. It’s just open grass.” Tommy kisses her cheek and licks her bottom lip, just as Huck always did. Her breathing speeds up, causing him to pant.
The grass feels cool but dry as they lay down.
“Y’all gots protection?” Tray asks.
“Sure,” Tommy is breathing heavily as he pulls out the rubber he always carries.
“Let me put it on ya,” she takes the condom and unwraps it.
Tommy slides his jeans and briefs down past his knees as Tray unrolls the rubber on his stiff hard-on.
“Ouch, stop. You got it inside out. Turn it over so it rolls down easy.”
“Y’all’s so big. I cain’t do it.”
“Here,” he takes the partially unrolled rubber. “I’ll do it,” as he laughs about being called big. He knows what big really is.
“Damn, I ain’t ‘sposed to be thinking ‘bouts ol’ Huck,” he chastises himself.
With the rubber fully on, he goes to work on Tray’s pussy. He knows girls like it when he goes down on them. “Ain’t no different from a blow job, ‘cept it don’t require choking on a shaft halfway down yer throat,” he thinks. Again he’s thinking about dick. Shit.
Tray’s squirming and heavy breathing captures his full attention. She’s ready. Just as he’s about to slip it in, a funny feeling comes over him. It’s like he is being watched.
“Damn, perverts,” he thinks. “They must’ve sneaked after us. Well, I’ll jist give ‘em a show.”
His dick slides all the way past her labia and deep into her warm, wet pussy. He starts a slow and steady rhythm, perfect for not cumming too soon. Deep inside her, he gets on his knees, pulling her ass off the grass for deeper penetration. Tray was huffing and puffing on her way to the first orgasm.
“I bets I kin makes her cum four times, jist like ol’ Huck told me he did with Jack-off.” Tommy thinks. “Shit, I cain’t stop thinkin’ ‘bouts ‘im.”
Tommy’s ass starts pulsing, just from the thought of Huck. He wants to be fucked himself, even while he’s pumping away with Tray. He moans in pleasure but also regrets he needs dick so badly.
Jace watches this porno scene for some time. He can read all of Tommy’s thoughts and feelings. The moment is right for Teen Jesus to save the boy’s conflicted soul. On his knees behind Tommy’s pumping butt, he bends down and starts licking the puckering butthole in front of him.
“Ah, ah,” Tommy moans as he imagined it is Huck making his asshole feel so tingly and excited. He thrusts fully into Tray, holding himself there as the butt licking he receives massages his hole and makes him relax. Pulling back he feels as if a tongue enters his anal cavity. He arches to receive it, fully pulling his dick out of Tray. She screams in need of the missing dick. He reenters her, thrusting deeply as Jace follows him downward, tongue moving inside Tommy with slight, rapid thrusts. It is more than Tommy can take. Out of control, Tommy’s dick fills the condom with bursts of teen sperm. Tray can feel the shots through the condom and arches with her second orgasm. Jace waits until Tommy’s bursts slow, then removing his tongue, thrusts his straining dick fully up Tommy’s ass.
“Oh, oh oh, ouch, oh, ah, ah,” Tommy can’t stop from screaming until his initial resistance to the stiff dick is overcome by the pleasure it is causing. He remains deep inside Tray, writhing in pleasure from the penetration. Tray is the receiver to this hail Mary pass. She came when Tommy was simultaneously exploding inside her. Now she comes a third time as he keeps pumping with a dick that refuses to go limp. Jace grasps Tommy’s shoulders to pull himself into the boy’s body as he thrusts deep into his ass. Jace is on auto pilot until he reaches his own orgasm. Just as he begins to cum, he pulls out, leans back on his knees and sprays ejaculate over Tommy’s back, head, and onto Tray’s startled face. Wide-eyed she only sees a wispy white glow with a flood of ghostly drops flying over Tommy’s back and falling directly on her. The drops burst the second they hit her.
Tray screams and pushes Tommy’s writhing body off of her.
Trying to get up, she trips over her half-undone jeans. Screaming and shaking, she runs away, pulling on her clothes.
Tommy continues to writhe, deep into his final orgasm, unaware that Tray has run off,. Jace is stroking Tommy’s butt with his fingers deep inside him. Finally, the writhing stops, replaced by shaking and shuddering, until he is still. Jace lay down and cuddled the fucked-out boy.
“I needed that, I so needed that,” Tommy mumbles.
“I guess,” Jace answers.
“What?” Tommy is startled. Realizing he was being held and cuddled, he freaks and jumps up.
“Who’s here?” he demands.
“Its Jace. Tim sent me. Ask him in your heart to trust me.”
All the negative thoughts of violation, anger, and resistance disappear when Tommy thinks of his Huck. For the first time, he wants Jace to be real.
“Ya scared me,” Tommy whispers. Then he laughs. “Y’all scared the fuck out of Tray. That might be the most excitin’ fuck o’ her life.”
“You weren’t complainin.’”
“That was sumtin’ else. I think you raped me.”
“And you liked it.”
“But I ain’t yer bitch.”
“I’ll play bitch next time.”
“Wiseass. Y’all thinks we be doin’ that agin?”
“I know it. You loved it.”
“I jist was thinkin’ of ol’ Huck. I neva wanna do’s it wid no one else.”
“It’s him that’s in yer heart. He sent me away, just like he rejected you. Same reason – he’s got too old fer me.”
“How old are y’all?”
“Fifteen. I ain’t aged a day since I died.”
“We’s the same age?”
“That’s why Tim sent me. He’s getting too old. Going ta college an’ all.”
“Y’alls a country boy, too?’
“Naw, but I sure as shit loves country boy ass.”
Tommy laughs. “I guess I do feels y’all in my heart too.”
“I knows that. Y’all has to trust me fer ya to feel me and hear me, as well as fuck ya.”
“I’m taking y’alls home wid me. We ain’t finished yet.”
“Bring it on, White Boy.”
“That bothers you?” Jace laughs.
“Yeah. Y’all don’ts seem Black.”
“Wanna find out. I’ll fuck ya day and night and then you can see my skin color.”
“That so? I don’t care. You fucked me already. Y’all better be happy, for it’s never happenin’ agin.”
“Hell, if that’s what floats yer boat. Let’s go scare the crap outta yer stoner friends. Yer fuck buddy thought she saw a zombie. Think y’all can play a zombie for them?”
Tommy thinks about it and smiles. “Why not?” He roughs up his shirt and jeans, smearing dirt on them, on his face and in his hair. He approaches the stoner group with his arms held out in front and a dead look on his face.
Tracy was frantically telling the group what she thought she saw. Tommy approaches her from behind.
“Shit. It’s Tommy,” one of the boys screams at a high pitch. “He got turned into a zombie, too.”
They scramble to get up and run away. Tracy whirls around, shrieking and falling into a dead faint at the sight of the possessed Tommy. Tommy picks her up as if to carry her away. One boy turns around to save her. Jace grabs a fallen branch and started beating the rescuer, who only saw a waving branch flying at him. Tommy lets go of Tracy, who is dragged away by the terrified rescuer. As the stoners disappear into the darkness, Tommy and Jace fall into a hysterical heap, hugging each other and gasping for breath.
Finally calming down enough, Tommy realizes he was hugging something he can’t see. Momentarily as frightened as his friends, he pushes Jace away.
“Y’all didn’t enjoy it?” Jace asks.
“Same as y’alls.”
Tommy laughs. “I guess. How’s I gonna ‘splain it all tamorra?”
“Too much pot.”
“Ya got that right. I ain’t tellin’ I’s got a ghost livin’ with me?”
“That means I kin stay?”
“Yeah, but I ain’t lettin’ ya fuck me ‘til I’s fucked y’all a bunch.”
“How’s y’all gonna fuck someone ya cain’t see?”
“I gots the magic dick,” Tommy brags.
“That’s what Tim always says.”
“I caught it from ‘im.”
“I hear that’s not all ya caughts.”
“What that ol’ boy say ‘bouts our summer tagetha?”
“Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that. Jist that he locked me outta his heart when y’all was in juvie.”
“Ol’ Huck was my hero the second I met ‘im there. He beat up three bullies the first night. The next night he let another bully fuck him so my friend ‘scaped. Then he turned the tables and fucked the hell outta the bully ‘til he yelled ‘Uncle.’”
“Y’all liked that?”
“I turned faggot then and there. I creamed my pants. I love him. He rescued me time and agin. Even beat down my older brother when he came to bust us in hospital. That’s how I ended up with my foster parents.”
“He beat up my older brother, too. That’s why I died. Jeff gots a gun and shot me.”
“It’s ol’ Huck’s fault?”
“Naw. He’s jist defendin’ me. He’s my hero, too.”
“And he sent y’all to me. I thinks I rilly likes ya.”
Jace pops into view.
“Y’all ain’t Black,” Tommy observes. “I thoughts I hadda let ya fuck me to see ya.”
“I was just joshin’ ya. All y’all need is to trust me, then love me. I’m glad y’all kin see me now. Y’all kin be pretty hard-hearted.”
“Stubborn as a mule.”
“Naw, fuckin’ gay.”
“Ya givin’ up girls?’
“Let’s git home and settle that in the bedroom.”
“Let’s write our own adventures. ‘Hillbilly Brothers, fuck all the others.’”
Tommy is pretty burned when he gets home, falling asleep in Jace’s arms before anything could start between them. Jace spends the night, with no urgent Teen Jesus calls to answer. In the morning, Tommy sulks when Jace refuses to go to school with him. All his plotted out zombie antics need an invisible partner to bewitch his friends and enemies. Jace feigns he needs his sleep. Once Tommy leaves, he catches up on less urgent Teen Jesus tasks. Jace returns and waits for Tommy to get home from school. The boy is so horny thinking about Jace at school all day, it takes two blow jobs to calm him down.
Laying on their bed, Tommy asks, “What’s we gonna do tanight?”
“Let’s go visit my old band. I gots payback due on Robby fer tryin’ to rape Jack last year. Michael’s his best friend. He kin see me. We all kin pay ol’ Robby a visit and fuck ‘im up. Ya knows enyone wid a car.”
“There’s ol’ Vic from the Sawgrass Campground. He gots ta play wid yer band when I’s momentarily laid up in hospital. He’s 23 but still cool. I’ll call ‘im.”
Vic is up for it. Soon he’s driving Tommy to Coral Gables down I-95. Jace rides along without Vic being aware he’s there. Tommy has to ride pussy, which pleases homophiliac Vic, who slings an arm around the boy.
They bang on Michael’s back door. Jenna and he answer. They both rush to Jace, Jenna hugging him and Michael pounding him on the back. Vic is totally confused; Tommy says he’ll explain later.
“How’d you end up with ol’ Vic and Tommy? I thought you were hand-cuffed to Tim for life.”
“He sent me to Tommy ‘cause he’s also 15. I ain’t aged since I died.”
“Never get ta be 16?”
“It sucks. Tim’s goin’ to Harvahd in the Fall. So I’m bonding with Tommy ‘cause he’s my age.”
“We wants to start back up the Hillbilly Brothers,” Tommy makes it known what he wants.
“You can try talking the Out Crowd members into going country. They’re your age. They’ll be here later.”
“We gots biznuss with ol’ Robby first. We needs ya to get us into his house.,” Jace declares.
“You want me to set him up for a beat down? He’s my friend.”
“He don’t deserves it?”
“A little payback may be a good thing.”
“Let’s go, then.”
“Y’all gots ta pull yer punches. Tim and I did that ta git our dicks hard,” Jace whispers to Tommy.
“I ain’t fuckin’ ‘im.”
“No, but we shure is fuckin’ him up. Jist play along.”
Michael gets them past Robby’s mom. We burst into the bedroom. Robby is still in his arm-chair lording it over a collection of 14 to 15-year-olds. Nothing ever changes in Stonerville. Robby recognizes Tommy but worries that the older Vic is an undercover cop.
“What’s you want, boy. You still Tim’s reject.”
“Jist another reason ta fuck y’all up,” Tommy jumps into Robby’s face. He makes air punches at Robby while remaining out of his reach. Jace swats Robby every time Tommy swung at him.
Maybe Robby failed to ‘maintain’ that day, looking dazed and confused at the blows that were falling down on him.
Michael can’t help himself and throws mock blows alongside Tommy. Jace doubles his frenzy, slapping and pushing the confused Robby. The junior stoners scatter to the room’s corners, expecting another Robby magic freak show.
“Ya want me. Ya still want me,” Tommy yells at Robby. The punching had excited the bulge in his jeans. He grabs and starts humping Jace, who continues the faux beat-down on Robby. Michael and Jenna can see Jace and decide they don’t need to watch two 15-year-olds go at it. They grab the confused Vic and leave the scene. Vic has the presence of mind to grab an unlighted joint for later.
“We’re going back to the music room. These boys are going to get the Out Crowd to play some country, if you’re coming,” Michael informs Robby, who continues to duck and cover up from blows he can’t see coming. Jace pulls Tommy away. He follows him to Vic’s truck, where they jump into the bed, continuing their humping of each other.
“That ain’t the sweet little brother I remember from last summer,” Vic notes.
“Ya ain’t seen the half of it,” Michael laughs. Jenna is studiously trying to avoid watching the fag scene in the truck’s bed.
Back at Michael’s, the Out Crowd is setting up for their rehearsal. Dave looks up from the drums and nods to Michael, his mentor.
“Who’s your friend? He looks our age,” Dave asks, nodding at Tommy.
“This is Tommy. He’s Tim’s old boyfriend from juvie. I met him in Iowa at Christmas.”
“Hey,” Dave walks over. “So, yer a fag, too.”
“Jist when’s I’s with Huck. I calls Tim Huck, ‘cause we’s Tom & Huck, livin’ large in the Everglades.”
“Well, I ain’t a fag, even though I work at a fag underwear shop.”
“Yup. Jist like Tim’s. But I ain’t into underwear, so there’s no worry fer y’all.”
Everyone laughs. John has been tuning the fender Mustang. He looks over his shoulder to see why everyone s laughing. He drops the guitar, creating an amplified crash.
“You kin see me?” Jace answers.
A confused John runs over. “Why’d everyone say you’s dead.”
“I am dead and a ghost. You jist couldn’t see me. Tim didn’t tell no one ‘cause he knew they’d think he’s crazy. Something’s changed. Now you can see me. What’s different about you?”
“Nothin’, just I really belong in the Watt family. Scott even hates me sometimes. Why did you abandon me?” he cries.
“I didn’t. Many nights I slept right next to you on the floor in Stu’s room.”
“Really? Some nights I was so relaxed and happy. Others I just felt rejected.”
“Oh, John. I never stopped bein’ yer brother.”
“Why ya talks like this, like a country hick?”
“Tim’s the country boy. Ya should hear ‘im carryin’ on.”
“He was so nice ta me. He knew, ya know, about everything with Jeff.”
“Y’all kin talk ‘bout it now?”
“Not really. I don’t wanna but it ain’t important now. I got a family that really loves me, even Scott, the dickhead.”
Stu comes over. “Why aren’t you with Tim? Did you guys fight? Tim loves to fight.”
“Naw. He sent me to be with Tommy. I ain’t growed up like he done. I’ll be 15 forever. Now he has Jack. They’s goin’ off ta sum fancy college. I ain’t never goin’ ta school agin.”
“Can ya be in the band now that we’re your age?”
“I’s here ta help Tommy. He’s Tim boyfriend from juvie.”
“Hi,” Tommy came over. “Y’all must be Stu. Yer brother usta call ya ‘Stupid.”
“I ain’t stupid. Tim was my big brother. He likes boys now?”
“We was more like brothers, livin’ large with alligators and even a panther that came at night ta hear us sing tagether.”
“Jist country music. Tim hadda pinch me to hit the high notes. We’s gots a band, The Hillbilly Brothers. We only played fer our friends at the Sawgrass Campground off’n the Alligator Alley. Now he’s in a band wid his twins sisters in Iowa. They calls it The Triplets.”
“And he’s in Dakota with John Lennon’s son Julian,” adds Jace.
“That boy can’t stop hisself from showin’ off.”
“Yeah, he played False Gods songs in a one man show in Hollywood last week. He was chasin’ Joan Jett from the Runaways around the Troubadour.”
“He’s playin’ our songs?” Robby pipes up.
“Y’all kin hear me now?” Jace asks Robby.
“Once I stopped being pissed that you were hitting me and started enjoying the abuse, you came into focus.”
“Must mean y’all likes me,” Jace concludes. “At least likes being abused.”
“Next time I’ll wring yer scrawny neck.”
“Try it,” Jace dares him. Robby tries to grab Jace by the neck but his hands go right through the wispy ghost. Half the people laugh and several scream. Ghostly delight.
While the reunion is going on, Vic sets up with a spare electric guitar. It was beat up and out of tune, just what Vic is used to. He starts the leads to ‘One Toke.”
The Out Crowd kids look at each other, and then grab their instruments, joining Vic. Tommy and Stu join Mike Jr. at the mic. Jace s right there to pinch Tommy and keep the harmony sweet. Robby pulls out a joint from behind his ear, lights up and walks over to each player, providing shotgun hits. In the corner is heard the demanding bark from the familiar pot addict, Max. All the ghosts are there. The music stops while Max got his shotgun hit. He rolls over with his legs wiggling in the air.
Tim’s week had been routine and easy. He explained to Dr. Kam that Jace was with Tommy in Florida.
“Do you miss him?”
“Sure thing, but I know Tommy needs someone to love, so it’s okay.”
“So your answer is that you do miss him?”
“Yeah, but I got lots of love from my family, and even ‘Gator loves me. He just doesn’t think ‘bout it.”
“So you don’t miss him?”
“We have slowly moved apart. He’s still 15. I guess I’ve forgotten what that’s like.”
“You’ve grown up?”
“’Course. He’s forever in my heart, just like all those adventures and times together.”
“What’s the plan, man? Go to Harvard? Go all Ivy League?”
“That what y’all thinks? I’ll be some rich bitch livin’ off John Boy’s trust fund?”
“I know you live day-to-day. I’m still hoping we’ll take that Shikoko Island pilgrimage in Japan this summer.”
“Ahso desu. Gomenasai. Yuko.”
“John Boy coming?”
“He’s already bought our kimonos.”
“Tradition dictates a white pilgrims costume with a white broad-brimmed hat. It looks like a full body diaper.”
“John Boy will be disappointed.”
“It may do him good to lose a little ego.”
“You think he’s conceited?”
“No, just self-centered.”
That night I call the selfish bastard and tell him about the plans for the Japanese pilgrimage. The lack of garish dress distresses him. I tell him he would be among thousands of similarly dressed pilgrims.
“Is it like the Hajj in Mecca?”
“A Buddhist version, more self-denying.”
“Am I hearing a message here?”
“Even Daddy thinks you need to be less demanding after the snake bite hysterics.”
“I was not hysterical.”
“Quite the opposite. You went speechless, your version of reverse psychology.”
“I guess you think it’ll be good for me, this pilgrimage.”
“No, Jack. It’s one of those cultural experiences you want to pursue, like when you got locked up in a Swiss monastery.”
“That didn’t go so well.”
“And, you’ve been learning Japanese. This will be a true test of your proficiency.”
“Maybe Yoko will come.”
“You decide for yourself. What are your plans for this summer?”
“God, Tim. You never plan ahead. Isn’t your credo to live only for today?”
“Well, we had to plan ahead for the Skynyrd concert.”
“That went really well.”
“Maybe we weren’t that prepared. We’d never played a big venue. Our antics got out of control.”
“You mean Robby got out of control.”
“I have to agree with Dad that I set it all in motion. What if the police had shot any one of the kids in the boat?”
“Well, you’ve sure changed. Maybe Iowa makes you less exciting.”
“Let’s go to Japan together then. I met one of the Runaways in Hollywood. They’re going to tour Japan this summer.”
“Do I have competition?”
“She’s hot like a firecracker.”
“Yeah, I know the song – ‘Cherry Bomb.’
“No competition. She’s too much like Joey – drugs.”
“You seem to attract the type.”
“He’s too straight. How are they doing?”
“It’s tough to make it in the music business.”
“I bet he ends up living in some broken down motel, doing drugs, and waiting for success to find him. I love his songs, though.”
“Maybe we should just go to Hollywood this summer. It’s easy to make connections there.”
“Yeah. How many times did you sell your ass last weekend?”
“I was just window dressing for my friends. We had a three-way in the Pussycat Theater and afterward my friends were selling their phone numbers for hook-ups. We’ll just get you stoned and let you loose on the natives.
“You know I’ll follow you anywhere. Japan seems about as far as you can get from New York.”
“Probably as different as you can get from Iowa.”
“Always aiming high.”
“God, I graduate in a month. Last year I was sure I was a dropout.”
“How’s Jace doing with Tommy?”
“I haven’t heard.”
“I’ll bet Tommy won’t even know he’s there. He’s only gay for you.”
“Don’t be jealous.”
“I won that contest fair and square.”
“Tommy’s barely out of puberty. Not exactly a fair contest.”
“He had your attention all summer. I’ll go to Japan. It’ll be our ‘Summer Place.’”
After hanging up, I call Tommy to see if Jace has shown up. He was all excited about going to Michael’s and playing with the Out Crowd.
“How did you get to see Jace?”
“I was fuckin’ my girlfriend in the cemetery, but I was thinking about y’all, Huck. Suddenly I was being fucked in my back door. It felt so good. ‘Cept it weren’t you. Jace came all over Tray and me. She thought he was a zombie. We scared the fuck outta my stoner friends. We bin havin’ a’ventures ever since. He’s my age, ain’t he. It’s jist like we was last summer. He gots yer sense of a’venture.”
“Sounds like he may stay there.”
“Oh yeah. He likes being with kids his age, like me. We’s partners. I ain’t lettin’ ‘im fuck me agin ‘tils I’s fucked him day and night.”
“Maybe y’all kin see him then.”
“Oh, I see and hear ‘im alright. He acted when I couldn’t sees ‘im like he’s a black boy, which didn’t make me so happy. He showed me hisself then. He’s rilly cool.”
“Ain’t missin’ me?”
“I always love ya Huck but yer right, best when the other guy’s my age. We’s blazin’ red rockets on the 4th o’ July.”
By the time I get upstairs for bed, ‘Gator is sound asleep. I tuck in with him and he pulls me close with an arm around my chest. He hasn’t told me about his progress with the twins. I know it’s all good. All my friends are happy. I fall asleep quickly. I wake up alone at dawn, alone, sure that ‘Gator will soon be up to take me milking. Ol’ Bessie is the only one who loves me exclusively, at least now that Seamus is gone. Our hearts grow large but seldom stay true to just one. I allow myself a few tears for sending Jace away. I want to blame Jack for being so possessive. Maybe he’s just being normal, a concept foreign to me.
I tell Dr. Kam that week about missing Jace.
“You were the one to suggest he go to Tommy’s.”
“It was a neat solution to two problems.”
“Hooking up your two spurned lovers? Did you think it was a simple solution.”
“They’re happy, it seems.”
“Why are you complaining? Was Jace going to Harvard with you and John Boy?”
“He complained and said he wasn’t going to ever take classes again.”
“So the only tradeoff is you miss him already?”
“We were so in love at 15. I’ll never feel that way again.”
“They say ‘you can never go home again.’ Maybe it means you can never be that young and innocent again.”
“You’re right, as always. I’ll get over missing him eventually.”
“Why can’t he come visit when you want him?”
I thought about it. Was that depriving Tommy of his new best friend, Casper, the Friendly Ghost?
“Maybe I can let him know to come to me when we miss each other. Our hearts will never be apart.”
“Ask him to come mix it up on our Shikoko Pilgrimage. It will be pretty boring a lot of the time.”
“He’ll love the communal baths. Maybe he can get a Kabuki costume to wear. He’s still wearing the clothes he had on when he died.”
“You figure that out and you may be visited by other ghosts with fashion problems.”
‘Gator finds me singing to Bessie as she is contentedly milked.
“Y’all gonna hook up any of t’other the cows? I swears, yer lovin’ Bessie makes me think you’ve got perverted thoughts ‘bout my milkers.”
“I’s only gots eyes fer her,” I swear.
“Com’n with me. Y’all gots ta up yer game. Ya ready to deal with less contented cows.”
He leads me to another section of the milking barn. The cows look at me suspiciously. My lazy, hazy, crazy days with Bessie are over.