Your name unspeakable, you are The Boy. You move like peanut butter down the halls of school. Smooth. No hurry. I want to spread you and me on white bread and take a bite. I want to put you on a spoon and lick you while I pretend to watch tv. I want you to take my hunger. I want you to bite back.
Your voice is motor oil. It makes things move. It is dark and liquid. Without it, damage is done. I check you frequently. You are enough.
It is summer and you are a long bike ride away. I don't know anyone in your neighborhood so I ride around mine. Tomorrow I will go to yours and act surprised when you say hi. I will tell you I like to read at the park by your house if you ask but you will know why I am there. We will hear the ominous song of the ice cream man and you will say you want a Creamsicle. You will ask me if I want anything and it will become a date- at fifteen, my first- because you will pay. I'll ask for a Creamsicle, even though I like Fudgsicles better, so I can taste how your tongue tastes. It will be cold and slippery in places nobody has touched. It will make me shiver.
You took me to your house after we sat on the curb and ate our Creamsicles. I paid for my own. Your brother was making a tunafish sandwich. You stood over him and gave a dangerous look. He practiced his peanut butter moves, finding a Coke in the fridge and, tucking a basketball under one arm. He held the can and sandwich in the other hand and opened the unlatched door with his hip. You didn't introduce us.
We went to your bedroom. You said my name like a question. I would hear it soon as an answer. I memorized your tangled dark and light blue striped bedspread, your poster of the dark-haired perfect girl from tv, your yellow Frisbee, the dirty white sock- only one- on the floor. Your motor oil voice invited me to sit on your bed and I did. You touched my shoulder, bare in the red tank top I chose with care that morning. You said I had a bug-bite and asked if I wanted to play Risk. You took the game from the top shelf in your closet and we went downstairs.
I didn't want to but I played. I won and asked why. You said it was easier when you were ten and could play Risk with a girl and it was a game, not foreplay. You said you felt like a pretty girl with a pretty mouth who said words nobody listened to. You said I would laugh but I didn't. I was looking at your mouth, thinking that should not be what your mouth was doing. You asked me to come back the next day. I told you I couldn't and saw you see yourself in my eyes. I thought about another Boy and how I would wear the same top to his house and not play Risk. I would be the pretty girl with the pretty mouth. I got on my bike and said bye John. I had no trouble saying your name.
10
favs |
1984 views
25 comments |
568 words
All rights reserved. |
Appeared in Monkeybicycle in September 2009.
This story has no tags.
great in MB, great here.
Favorite lines: You said it was easier when you were ten and could play Risk with a girl and it was a game, not foreplay. You said you felt like a pretty girl with a pretty mouth who said words nobody listened to.
"Without it, damage is done."-- Wrenching, perfect line. The entire paragraph is perfection.
Such a lovely, subtle piece. Wonderful work.
Dave, the Risk line was my favorite too!
thanks ryan, dave and cami!
i have never played risk -- it just seems like a very "boy" game.
i have checked the oil in my car on rare occasions. i think i got that one right ...
people won't play risk with me anymore
I love the elegance of this story. This is fine fine writing... very evocative.
Oh, poor gal...to learn about people and life in this way.
"...so I can taste how your tongue tastes" --eek! yes, yes, yes!
So hard when fantasies stop cold. You've captured this beautifully.
reminds me of my guy friend in hs who brought a female student home and took her to the basement. they played ping pong for hours. then she went home and clowned him at school all week, as did everyone else, calling him names like "Paddlehead" and much worse.
Beautiful, sensual writing. Great images. I loved "moved like peanut butter" and "saw you see yourself in my eyes" and "I would be the pretty girl with the pretty mouth."
thanks so much, roxane, katrina, (david -- for your random story) and teresa! i really appreciate the nice feedback!
ha, my story didn't feel random. my friend never lived it down. he still hears about it. that fear, that inability to say the name with confidence, that inability to have the nerve to look good on the dance floor (that's random!)...all those things bounced through my head reading this.
incidentally, you have cornered the market with these "you" stories. i know other writers do it, but an LB story is really a unique venture into such an approach now. Kudos.
david -- i like the story about your friend. i just meant it was random in the sense that it didn't really reference mine but it really did. i like random anyway.
thanks about the "you" thing. it's funny --i didn't even realize i did it again.
"I'll ask for a Creamsicle, even though I like Fudgsicles better, so I can taste how your tongue tastes."
great line. and not just because i am a lover of fudgsicles...
heh, ljb, i rushed my reply above b/c well i was at work and my boss was creeping around. i hope i didn't come across as snarky! i know what you mean ... it was/wasn't a random comment.
and, hee, re the "you" thing. i still remember reading the piece about the narrator liking her hair pulled. the way you phrase things sometimes just damn well says it all. also, i thought i faved this story but see i have not. weird.
final random pt - i picked my son up from his aftercare program this week and two older boys were playing Risk. thought of this story first and then that old Seinfeld episode. Whn you're leapfrogging Seinfeld, you are hitting the right notes.
Nice. Sad. Growing up sucks.
thanks barry. i like fudgsicles better, too. but i'm glad you liked the more than just the mention!
david: what's funny is that the story in which the girl expresses a preference for being pulled by her hair ("erase") is told in first person! but it's very flattering that the image stayed with you. thanks for all of your kind and funny comments.
thanks jamie. yeah, that space between childhood and adulthood is tough. i think i'm stuck in it eternally ...
lovely
thanks kat. and everyone and monkeybicycle and fictionaut. i'm moved by the incredibly kind responses.
love this!
Strong story. Great control. I like it.
shar -- belated thanks!
sam: thanks for reading my stuff and leaving quiet commentary (which can be very nice). I appreciate it a lot.