Phantom World
Phantom World
Mark A. Roeder
iUniverse, Inc.
New York Lincoln Shanghai
Phantom World
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written
permission of the publisher.
All Rights Reserved © 2004 by Mark A. Roeder
iUniverse, Inc.
For information address:
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are
product’s of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All registered trademarks mentioned in this book are the property of their
respective owners. No infringement is intended or should be inferred.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN: 0-595-76608-0
This book is dedicated to those of every sexual orientation who fight against prej-
udice and hate.
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C o n t e n t s
Mark A. Roeder
vi
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Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank Ken Clark, Lynn Grove, Jim Hertwig, and especially REC for
proofing this manuscript. Without their efforts, it would be far less enjoyable to
read. Proofing is a difficult and often thankless job, so I want to take this oppor-
tunity to say thank you!
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I n t r o d u c t i o n
Phantom World is the first novel in a new branch of the Gay Youth Chronicles. Set
in southern Indiana, Phantom World introduces new characters, but has some
familiar faces as well. I’m creating this new branch of stories to open up new pos-
sibilities, but the old characters won’t be forgotten. Those enamored of Verona,
Indiana need not worry as I’ll continue writing novels set in that little northern
Indiana town. If you’re new to the Gay Youth Chronicles, Phantom World will be a
convenient starting place. If you’ve read my previous novels, you’ll find it a new
world to explore.
June 2003
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Toby
“Give it back, Mackenzie! Now!” I yelled.
“Give it back, Mackenzie! Now!” repeated my little brother, mocking me.
I shook my head. I hated it when he did this, when he repeated everything I
said. He could keep it up for hours. He was the most annoying fifteen-year-old in
the entire world—no, in the entire universe.
“Give it to me or I’m gonna be late! Mom!”
“Give it to me or I’m gonna be late! Mom!” repeated Mackenzie, in his approxi-
mation of a sissy voice.
Mackenzie could’ve been the poster child for contraception. I could just see
big posters of his smirking face with the words, “Don’t Let This Happen to You,”
printed under it. I bet such posters would solve the overpopulation problem in a
generation.
“Why do you always have to call Mom?”
“Why do you always have to be a little shit?” I shot back.
“Language, Toby,” said our mother, as she stood in the doorway. Mom was
beautiful, with curly dark hair and a real pretty face. She looked like a model,
only shorter.
“Shit isn’t bad language, Mom. I was just telling Mac he’s a little turd.”
Mackenzie crossed his arms and glared at me. Mom chose to ignore my words.
“Mackenzie Riester, give Toby his shirt back right now!”
“Mom!”
“Now, Mackenzie!”
“Here,” he said, “it’s a freakin’ ugly shirt, anyway.”
Mark A. Roeder
4
I ignored my little brother and slipped on my shirt, happy to cover my puny
torso. I looked in the mirror. I liked the shirt. It was jack-o-lantern orange with
black panels on the sides. Over the left breast were spooky embroidered letters
that read, Phantom World. It felt like it was too big, but I knew that was only
because I was too skinny. If I had muscles, it would fit just fine.
“You ready?” asked Mom.
“Yep.”
“I’m so proud of my little boy,” she said, having a go at my cheeks.
“I’m not a little boy. I’m sixteen.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m proud of my young man.”
I grinned and shook my head.
I was a little nervous about my first day at Phantom World. My last few week-
ends were devoured by training sessions, but I still wasn’t sure I was up to the
task. At the same time, I was psyched about working there.
Mom and Dad used to take Mackenzie and me to Mystic Gardens, and I was
bummed when I’d heard it was closing down. The old park had been there for-
ever. My grandparents had taken my mom there when she was a little girl, and
grandfather’s parents had taken him. It was a special place to a lot of people. I
wasn’t the only one who cried when the local TV news reported the whole place
was going to be demolished with a wrecking ball. I couldn’t believe it was going
to be replaced with a massive shopping center. Like, anyone needed another mall!
Then, just as the old theme park was set to be auctioned off piece by piece, the
news hit that it’d been purchased lock, stock, and barrel and was going to be
restored, expanded and turned into Phantom World. I think everyone in southern
Indiana breathed a huge sigh of relief when that news hit. It was definitely cause
for celebration. The park was closed for more than a year while renovations and
construction was going on, but it was reopening—today!
I’d dreamed about performing in one of the shows, but I’d applied too late,
and all the acting and singing spots had already been snatched up. Those had
been the first to be filled because there needed to be lots of practices before the
reopening. I’d trained for the last four weekends, but the singers and actors had
easily spent twice that long preparing for their first performance before I’d even
started to train. Maybe next year, I thought.
Yesterday, I’d been in school. Was I glad to be outta there! I liked school okay;
it’s just that by the end of May I was tired of sitting on my butt in a classroom.
Working in Phantom World would be so much more exciting, and I’d get paid.
“What time should I pick you up?” asked Mom as she pulled the Cavalier out
of the drive.
Mark A. Roeder
5
“I get off at eight tonight,” I said.
“I don’t like you working such long hours—9-8 is too much.”
“Most days it will be less, but today’s opening day, Mom. Besides, I get breaks
and an hour for lunch. I’m workin’ at an amusement park not in a sweat shop
making overpriced sneakers.”
“Okay. I just don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.”
“I won’t, Mom. In the training sessions they said we’d rotate jobs a lot, so no
one will get too bored. They do that for safety reasons. You gotta stay sharp when
you’re operating something like The Poltergeist.”
“Is that where you’ll be starting?”
“No, I may get a chance later, but they’re starting college kids on The Polter-
geist for the first day. It’s the biggest coaster in the park, after all. This morning,
I’m starting out on The Phantom World Railroad. You gotta see it sometime,
Mom. It goes all around the park and even through three tunnels. One of ’em
goes under The Poltergeist.”
Mom drove into the huge parking lot that was already filling with cars and
buses, even though the park didn’t open for another hour. I’d seen a lot of com-
mercials for the park on TV, and there was stuff about it on the national news.
MTV even did a special on it because the owner was Phantom (which was
another reason I was dying to work there). I’d had a crush on Jordan, the lead
singer, since I was thirteen, or was it twelve? Now there was a hot g! Mmmm.
“Here’s fine,” I said, when Mom got up fairly close to the Main Gate. “I can
walk from here.”
“Give me a kiss,” she said and I obediently complied. She kissed my cheek in
turn. “Break a leg, Tiger.”
“Uh, that’s for plays, Mom.”
“Well, good luck, then,” she said.
Mom drove away and I walked toward the entrance, passing between cars and
buses that were trying to find a parking space. When I got my own car, which I
hoped would be soon, I’d go through the employee entrance near the back.
As I neared the gate, I could see the forest of huge, creepy trees that sur-
rounded the entrance. They were made out of some kind of concrete or some-
thing, but they looked absolutely real. They made me think I was entering some
kind of spooky woods, like The Old Forest in the Harry Potter books. It was diffi-
cult making my way through the vast crowd that was already forming, but since I
was wearing my Phantom World staff shirt and had my ID tag, I walked right on
past the ticket booths and through the main gate. It made me feel kinda impor-
tant. On the left of the asphalt path there was a graveyard, complete with a mau-
Mark A. Roeder
6
soleum and ancient-looking, moss-covered tombstones. Like most of the spooky
stuff in the park, it had been put there recently, but it looked for all the world like
it’d been there for years and years.
A tall trestle for the Phantom World Railroad made kind of a U around the
entrance to the park, enclosing the graveyard and an information booth. The
tracks went right over the path. The railroad station was off to the right, but I had
to go back near the rear of the park to clock in. I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t
have had Mom drop me off around back, because it was quite a walk across the
park. I hoped I didn’t get lost, but then again, there were maps at various loca-
tions, so surely I could find my way.
The train passed overhead just as I walked under the trestle. I loved the sound
of it chugging along. The whistle blew, and I looked up to see a cloud of steam
billowing from the engine. I just knew I was going to love working here.
The calliope music of the old merry-go-round drew my attention away from
the train. I’d read in one of the papers that it was real old, like from the early
1900s. It’d been brought in from another park that had closed. Some of the old
Mystic Gardens buildings and rides were still around, too, but most of Phantom
World was brand new. I was relieved that Phantom World had kept so much of
the old park. It would’ve been sad to see the old Ferris Wheel carted away.
Instead, it was still where it’d always been. Mystic Gardens lived on within Phan-
tom World. I was amazed at how well the new mixed with the old. Anyone unfa-
miliar with the old park wouldn’t have a chance figuring out what had been
around for decades and what was built just the last year. Looks were deceiving,
like the ancient-looking cemetery by the entrance that had only been there for a
few weeks.
I walked past the merry-go-round and a huge skull. Just as I was about to pass
the skull, its eyes flickered and it moaned at me. I jumped and then looked
around to see if anyone had noticed, but the park was nearly empty since the
gates hadn’t opened yet. I walked on past the bumper cars and then followed the
path to the right. I was surer of myself now, for a long section of the path ran
nearly straight from the front to the back of the park. This was the main path that
had most of the food booths on it.
I walked by another information booth where they sold park maps and
umbrellas. Off to my left, I could hear the roar of The Poltergeist. It was the larg-
est wooden roller-coaster in the world. I loved the sound it made, although it
kinda freaked me out. I dunno why. I tried to fix each of the booths in my mind
as I passed them, because I’d be working in a lot of them sooner or later. First,
there was the souvenir booth, then sunglasses, followed by an iced-tea booth,
Mark A. Roeder
7
chicken nuggets, drinks, the first-aid booth, a cotton-candy stall and then a
restroom. Just beyond the line for getting on the Ferris Wheel were the booths for
balloons, more souvenirs, hats, lemonade, coffee and t-shirts. I followed the path
that jogged to the right. There was a donut stand just in front of another spooky
graveyard, and then the path turned left and went straight again. On this strip,
there were another drinks booth, a seafood booth, a funnel-cake booth and a
restroom. Up on the hill to the left was The Graymoor Mansion, the huge haunted
house and centerpiece of Phantom World. I could hear moans and screams com-
ing from it, as well as the sound of thunder. I couldn’t wait to get inside it on one
of my days off.
There was yet another information booth coming up, and there I made a left
turn and followed the path off to the right. There were yet more booths, these
selling popcorn, pizza, cappuccino, hot dogs, ice cream and more drinks. I finally
reached the staff building, went inside and clocked in.
On the way back toward the Phantom World Railroad, I tried to memorize all
the booths again. I was getting confused. There were just too many of them!
Phantom World wasn’t a huge park, not like Disney World, or Six Flags, or Busch
Gardens, but it looked plenty big to me. It had The Poltergeist, The Twister (a
smaller steel roller coaster), as well as the Splashing Specter, which was a water
roller coaster. There was all the stuff you’d expect to find, like bumper cars, a
merry-go-round, Ferris Wheel, Skee-Ball, tilt-a-whirl, and a scrambler. There was
plenty of other stuff too, like a raft ride, a water slide that used huge inner tubes,
old-timer cars, a Pirate-themed raft ride and more. And then, there were a couple
of places where they would present shows—one of ’em was kinda a musical-fan-
tasy story thing and another was all singing with pop music—most of it Phantom
songs, of course.
I thought about Jordan for a moment. I wondered what it would feel like to
just up and decide you were gonna buy yourself an amusement park. How
incredible is that? I guess he must’ve made a ton of cash from CDs and concerts
and stuff to be able to afford it. I read somewhere that The Poltergeist cost $2.8
million to build and the Graymoor Mansion cost $1.2 million. I was sure none of
the new rides was cheap, and then there were all the buildings, not to mention
what he paid for Mystic Gardens, which I heard was something like $16 million. I
guess that wasn’t a bad price for it, but still…I wondered how much he was going
to be paying out each week in salaries. It kind of boggled my mind. Oh well, I
didn’t have to worry about that. I just had to get where I was supposed to be
before ten.
Mark A. Roeder
8
I made it with plenty of time to spare. The Phantom World Train Station
looked like the real thing, with a long covered platform where the passengers
embarked on their journey around the park. A beautiful red locomotive with the
name Frightful Express painted on the side sat there with steam billowing out of
its smokestack and along the sides near the wheels. It looked like an antique from
the Wild West or something, but from its shiny appearance, I’d say it was new. It
had gold and chrome along its sides which had been polished until it sparkled. It
was one of the two locomotives that pulled cars around the park. The Banshee
Express was identical, except it was bright blue.
“Wanna take a ride?” called down the engineer as I was admiring the locomo-
tive.
“Um, I don’t know if I should.”
“I can have you back before the park opens,” he said. “Hank and I are running
the trains around a few times for a last minute shakedown.” I supposed Hank was
the engineer of the Banshee Express.
Krista, whom I’d met during training, was standing on the platform gazing at
the train. “Go ahead, Toby, I’ll keep an eye on things here. I went earlier. It’s a
blast. Charlie’ll have you back before you know it.”
I grinned and looked up at the engineer, who was apparently called Charlie.
“Okay, Charlie, let’s go!” I said.
I climbed on one of the cars, which was open on the sides, but covered on the
top. Charlie powered up the engine and the chug-chug became louder. There was
a hiss of steam and we began to move, very slowly at first, but then a bit faster.
The train climbed a gradual incline then made its way around the park on a
raised trestle. I felt like I was high in the air, but we were only a few feet above the
ground. Soon, a big hill loomed into view and we passed into a narrow tunnel.
The bright sunlight disappeared and I was in complete darkness for a moment.
Then, off to one side and then another, I saw silvery-blue ghosts and skeletons. I
jumped at the sight of the first one. It looked so real. It wasn’t like a sheet thrown
over something or anything cheesy like that. I could see right through the ghosts!
And they moved! I couldn’t hear anything, because of the noise of the train, but I
could just imagine them moaning. Off to one side, there were old miners who
looked like they were trapped in a mine cave-in. Then, the tunnel got a little
wider and we passed what looked like the scene of a train accident. There was a
big ghostly locomotive with its passenger cars, twisted and turned on their sides.
There were ghosts climbing out the windows, and a phantom engineer pulling
himself out of the locomotive. Part of it looked solid, but some of it looked kinda
transparent, too. I had no idea how they made it look so real, but it was awesome!
Mark A. Roeder
9
I was just expecting there to be a dark tunnel. I didn’t know there’d be stuff like
this inside! It was like a train ride and a haunted house combined.
I blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness of the sunlight as the train rolled
out of the dark tunnel. I looked down as we traveled along the raised trestle, pass-
ing the Ghost Pirates raft ride on the right and the Splashing Specter water roller
coaster on the left. Then, we went through a covered “bridge” and the steam
from the engine wafted down around the cars. We passed into another tunnel,
and, once again, creepy things were inside. About halfway through, I looked
ahead and was terrified to see the tunnel collapsing, huge boulders falling around
and nearly onto the Frightful Express. My heart lurched in my chest and my pulse
raced, and the thought raced through my head that this terrible accident was
going to spoil the opening day, and maybe endanger the park’s existence. But I
realized almost immediately that it was just a part of the ride. How awesome is
that?
My pulse slowly returned to normal as the train chugged along into the sun-
light once more. We passed near The Scrambler, and I could see the Fatal Falls log
ride and the Water Demon water slide in the distance. Off to the left was the rear
of the Graymoor Mansion, which stood almost in the center of park, and to the
right was the towering latticework of wooden beams that was The Poltergeist. We
entered the third and last tunnel, which went right under part of The Poltergeist.
Inside this tunnel, giant spiders sat on webs and some even lunged for the cars or
came down nearly on top of the train on thick, sticky-looking strands. I jumped
when a huge amount of what looked like steam shot right through the car I was
riding in. There was a roar and I jerked my head to see a vast, green-golden
dragon spouting flames toward the train. It looked freaking real!
We came out of the tunnel and slowly climbed a steep incline near the lake
that was located beneath and behind The Poltergeist. The track took a sharp turn
and passed by the old-timer cars and the bumper cars that I’d walked near earlier.
The train reached the U around the entrance to the park and I could see a ton of
people waiting to get in. There must’ve been thousands of ’em. We went down a
sharp incline where the train traveled faster than ever and then pulled back into
the station, behind the Banshee Express.
I got off, thanked Charlie, and then joined Krista on the platform.
“That was awwwweee-sooommmee!” I said. Krista and I exchanged grins. She
made me feel happy and comfortable. If only she was a guy…
It was just before ten and soon the very first guests of Phantom World would
be entering the park. I thought I might just have the best job in the entire world.
- 10 -
Mackenzie
I rolled my eyes as Mom left with Toby. He was so pathetic. I was pretty sure he
was queer, which made me a little uncomfortable sharing a room with him. I
didn’t know, of course, but he didn’t like sports, he was always reading or writing
in his journal (which I’d never been able to find), and he’d performed in every
school play I could remember since he was ten. And then there was his music, if
you could call it that. It was all boy-band stuff—Phantom—eww, Hanson—
gimme a break, The Backstreet Boys—yuck, N’SYNC—double-yuck, Aaron
Carter—barf, and all those other faggie groups. He had a big poster of Phantom
hanging on his side of the room as well as another of that long-haired homo from
the group. If that didn’t prove he was queer, I didn’t know what would. The
shirtless Aaron Carter photo was a pretty good tip off, too. I hated that cutesy
freak. If I ever met him, I’d pound his face.
I’d searched Toby’s stuff for porn, as well as for his journal, but had never
come up with anything. He probably had a secret stash somewhere I was yet to
discover. Mine was under the carpet in the corner behind my bed. I only had a
couple of old Playboy magazines and a Penthouse, but I kept ’em hidden flat under
the carpet ’cause Mom would freak if she found ’em. Yeah, I could just hear that
lecture—these magazines are degrading to women, Mackenzie Riester; you’re too
young to be looking at something like this—and on and on. I wondered where
Toby’s stuff was hidden away. Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to take
another stab at finding it. I figured it had to be in our room somewhere.
I searched under his dresser drawers and came up with nothing, although it
was a good hiding place I’d have to remember. I looked under the desk drawers,
Mark A. Roeder
11
too, but still nothing. I got on my back and looked under his bed, thinking he
might’ve stuck something between the boards holding it up and the mattress. All
I found under the bed were old socks, my baseball mitt that had mysteriously dis-
appeared, candy wrappers and some dust-bunnies that were huge enough to
attack. I pretended one pounced on me and was going for my throat, like that
bunny in Monty Python and The Holy Grail, “Oh no! It’s just a harmless little
bunny! I told you!” I giggled until I smacked my head on the bed—ouch!
I dug into the closet, but wasn’t turning up anything. Toby was a neatness
freak and even kept his shoes in the boxes they came in. Can you believe it? He
organized everything. His shirts were hung according to color and type. He even
separated and folded his socks! Sometimes I liked to slip one of his green shirts in
with the blue ones or put a white pair of socks in his black pile. It drove him
crazy, which is what I’m all about.
I finally got lucky when I checked Toby’s anally organized shoe boxes. I
noticed his old pair of cowboy boots didn’t fit in the box quite right. For some
reason, the lid didn’t fit on. That would’ve meant nothing if it belonged to any-
one other than my anal brother, but it was a red flag since it was Toby’s. I
checked it out and there was a piece of cardboard in the bottom, cut out to the
same size as the box. I lifted it up and, oh yeah, Toby’s stash!
It figured. There was no actual porn, but there were a couple of Undergear cat-
alogs filled with pictures of nearly naked guys, a teen magazine devoted to Phan-
tom, and a few pages torn out of catalogs showing guys in Speedos and underwear.
Yeah, big bro definitely had somethin’ to hide. If he wasn’t queer, he would’ve
had Playboys like me, or at least pages ripped outta catalogs with pictures of girls
in bras or somethin’. Here was clear-cut proof Toby was bent, although it came
as no surprise. I’d suspected Toby of being queer about as long as I could remem-
ber. There was always somethin’ not quite right about him.
I carefully put everything back as I found it. I wasn’t sure what I was going to
do with my evidence yet. It would be fun to pull it out and shove it in Toby’s face
and listen to him fumble for some excuse, but maybe I could think of somethin’
better. There was no use in rushing into things. Besides, planning to torment
Toby was nearly as fun as actually doing it.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I thought about calling Billy, but was it too soon? He’d only taken notice of
me in the last couple of weeks of school, and I didn’t want to blow my chances. I
couldn’t afford to look desperate. Billy had taken a liking to me right after I
Mark A. Roeder
12
punched out Simon Girard for calling me a wuss, and I’d been playing it cool
since then, being friendly with Billy, but not too friendly. When he’d asked me to
start sitting at his table at lunch I’d agreed, but only after pretending I was a little
reluctant to give up my old place near the wannabe jocks. Billy’s table was defi-
nitely a step up.
Billy didn’t fit in with any group. He wasn’t a jock, a punk, a nerd or an Aber-
crombie & Fitch clone. He was a…I don’t know the word for it, but he had a
presence that didn’t match his appearance. Billy dressed in worn shirts, worn-out
jeans and scuffed, unfashionable combat boots that’d obviously been purchased
at someplace like Goodwill and had then been worn until they were close to fall-
ing apart. Anyone else who dressed like that would’ve been put down, but not
Billy. No one dared to mess with him. It’s not like he went around acting all
tough or threatening people, though. He wasn’t a bully. He just had a presence,
like I said. Even the jocks who ruled the school didn’t give him any shit. He
wasn’t one of them, but he kind of had jock privileges without being one. Billy
wasn’t popular, either, but…. It’s hard to explain, but it was like he was popular
without being popular, just like he gave off this jock vibe without bein’ a jock.
Billy seemed to disapprove of just about everything, and, for some reason, it
made people respect him.
Billy was my age, but it didn’t seem that way. He seemed older. He never
pulled rank on me, although something in his eyes said he was in control. He was
like that with everyone around him, such as the little group who sat with him at
lunch. Billy was the obvious leader, but it went unsaid. If someone got smart with
him, he punched them hard in the shoulder or glared at them, but that was the
extent of it. He stayed on top by reputation.
Most of the time when I saw Billy he was alone. Other guys only hung with
him when he wanted. He had control like that without even seeming to try.
That’s what I wanted. He did beat someone up now and then, but, like I said, he
didn’t fit the bully mold. Billy was in a class by himself.
Just two days after he asked me to join his table, we both almost got caught
smoking behind the gym. Billy did get caught, but he convinced the P.E. teacher
I hadn’t been smoking with him. I admired the way he protected me. He was
loyal like that. He didn’t nark on anyone, no matter the consequences, and he
wasn’t afraid to take the fall for someone else. Billy was fearless. No one scared
him. Maybe that’s why the jocks respected him. Billy had attitude.
I grabbed my baseball, bat, and mitt and headed for the park, hoping for a
chance encounter with Billy. If he wasn’t around maybe I could at least find
someone to play with. It was early June and nice and warm—a perfect day to
Mark A. Roeder
13
spend outside. I realized when I was halfway to the park that I hadn’t left a note
for Mom saying where I was, but she’d probably figure it out. I’d be back in time
for lunch anyway—probably.
There were a few guys from school at the park—no one especially cool, but at
least we could play catch. A little later, some more guys showed up and we got a
game going. We didn’t have enough people, but at least we could field two teams
of five. It was way better than nothing.
My thoughts went back to Toby and what I’d found in our room. It was a bit
disturbing to have my suspicions of him confirmed. It just figured I’d get stuck
with a homo brother. I wished I could trade him for Billy, or at least someone else
who was straight and cool.
I wondered if Toby had anything interesting written in his journal. I knew he
had a regular journal and a computer journal. I’d never been able to find his
handwritten journal. He carried it with him most of the time, but he couldn’t do
that with his computer journal, so maybe I’d give finding it another crack. He’d
probably have it guarded with a password, but there were ways around that. I bet
there’d be lots of interesting things written in there. I smiled. Maybe I had some-
thing to do after all. Once the game was finished, I’d go home and see just what
else I could find out about my big brother.
- 14 -
Orlando
The park was crowded with cute girls—eye candy specifically designed to tor-
ment me with what I couldn’t have. I was lucky enough to start my day working
the Water Demon, a ride with huge round rafts that rode a series of rapids. I was
lucky, because by the end of the ride, just about everyone was soaked to the skin,
and I was able to see some interesting sights. Especially intriguing were the girls
who wore white or yellow shirts and no bras. It was almost as good as seeing them
naked. I had to readjust myself a few times so no one would notice my,
uh…interest.
There were a few good looking guys, too—the competition. I sometimes
looked them over just to see what I was up against. It was easy on the Water
Demon. Their wet shirts clung to their bodies, revealing the swell of their chest
muscles and the bulges in their arms. Sometimes their wet shorts revealed bulges,
too. And then, there were the guys who stripped off their shirts to show off their
bodies—advertising. Those were the guys who had the most to show. Those were
the boys who beat me hands down. I liked my body, but I wouldn’t have minded
to be even more muscular, like some of the guys getting off the ride.
My breath was coming a little fast and I knew I had to get myself under con-
trol. The Phantom World shorts were a bit revealing and I feared my arousal was
obvious. I tried to force my mind away from the girls and back to business.
Maybe I wasn’t so lucky in my morning assignment after all. It was a little like
being tortured.
I was in charge of supervising the exit. It was my job to make sure no one
stayed on the rafts, either because they wanted to ride again or because they
Mark A. Roeder
15
couldn’t get their seat belt undone. I was also there to make sure no one slipped
and fell and to hand back valuables that had been left behind for safekeeping. It
was a pretty easy job really. It beat the crap out of the job I had last summer
working in a fast-food place. Flipping burgers and mopping floors—yeah like
that was a blast. I don’t think so!
I grinned or winked at the girls who flirted with me as they got off the rafts.
They made me feel good about myself. I knew I was kinda cute, which sounds
immodest as hell, but it’s not like I thought I was hot stuff—just kinda cute, not
real cute. There was a big difference. I was no model or anything, but I liked my
short, spiked hair and I was in pretty good shape, too. A lot of girls liked my
voice. Thanks to my Mom, who came to the U.S. from Spain just before I was
born, I had a bit of an accent—not much, but I’d been told it was sexy. Some-
times I exaggerated it on purpose, especially when a girl seemed to like it. Kids
used to make fun of my accent in grade school, but that came to an end right
after I kicked Davy Robinson’s ass for teasing me about it. My year round natural
tan came from my family, too. Dad was Spanish, just like Mom, even though his
side of the family had been in the U.S. for a couple of generations, so I looked
like I’d been tanning, even in the dead of winter. The girls liked that even more
than my accent. Mom said I sounded a lot like my dad, but I didn’t know about
that, because he ran off with a younger woman when I was four, so I didn’t
remember him very well.
I know Dad hurt Mom, but she didn’t say much about him. She always said
that if you couldn’t say something nice about someone, then you shouldn’t say
anything at all. Maybe that’s why she never talked about Dad. When he left, it
was kind of like he’d never existed. I used to ask where he’d gone and why he’d
left, until Mom finally told me the truth when I was eight. I didn’t like it. Find-
ing out my dad had just up and decided to abandon Mom and me made me feel
like I’d just been punched in the heart.
I noticed a boy looking me over as he got off the raft and I had a pretty good
idea he liked what he saw. It made me feel kinda funny. Sometimes that hap-
pened. Sometimes a guy looked at me the same way the girls did. When it was a
guy, it felt sort of…odd. I gazed at the boy for a moment, wondering if he was
one of the boys I’d heard about—a queer. There were harsher names for it, but
that didn’t quite seem right. The boy smiled at me. I smiled back, not knowing if
I meant the smile, or if I was just doing “guest relations.”
Phantom World was going to be a good place to work, I could just tell. I was
getting $8 an hour, which was way more than I could get anywhere else. On top
of that, I got a free season pass and a fist full of passes good for one day that I
Mark A. Roeder
16
could give away to friends. I was going to give Mom one and maybe one to Gene,
the guy who’d been taking Mom out for the last couple of weeks, although I
wasn’t sure how I felt about him yet.
Drinks were free in the park, so I could guzzle soft drinks until I overflowed,
which was cool because I had a real addiction to root beer. All employees got
50% off of food and a food allowance of $10 a day on top of that. We all carried
ID cards that were kind of like credit cards, only they were good for food. As long
as I didn’t spend more than $10 a day I wouldn’t be out a dime for meals. And,
after getting 50% off, $10 bought a lot of food. The prices in the park weren’t
bad either. They were about the same as most fast-food places. I liked that. A lot
of parks charged outrageous prices for stuff, but not Phantom World.
Most guys my age were saving up for a car, but I was helping Mom with the
bills. Dad had been a pretty successful lawyer, which was unfortunate for Mom
and me, because Mom didn’t get much in the divorce. The house, one of the few
things she got in the settlement, wasn’t paid for yet when Dad left, so Mom had
to sell it and buy a much smaller one. Mom had to handle a lot of things. I’m not
complaining about my life or anything. It’s not like we were real poor; it’s just
that it would’ve been cool if I could’ve saved my money and bought a car or
something, instead of paying the electric bill. It would’ve been kind of nice to
shop in a real store, too, instead of Goodwill and the resale shop on Oak Street. I
bought all my own clothes. I liked Structure stuff, which I mostly got on eBay. I’d
never had much money, so I’d learned to make the most of what I did have. It
was sort of like it was God’s compensation for my lack of funds. I wore a lot of
the same stuff as my friends but paid much less for it, like the cool Gap sweater I
snagged last Christmas at Goodwill for three bucks. Chase Simmons from school
had one exactly like it, and he said he paid $80 for it in the mall. I didn’t say
where I got mine, but I was laughing inside.
By noon, I was starving, but my “lunch” wasn’t until 1:30. Lunchtimes had to
be staggered, otherwise there would be no staff working the rides in the middle of
the day. I didn’t mind too much, but I made a mental note to carry some candy
bars or something to snack on so I wouldn’t get too hungry. I could buy those in
the park, too, with my ID card. That thing was sweet.
I was scheduled to switch from the Water Demon to The Poltergeist at 11:45.
We were told to keep our watches in sync with park time and leave exactly when
we were supposed to. Duties were staggered as well, so that all the park employees
wouldn’t be switching jobs at one time. That would’ve been chaos. Instead, just a
few of us were switched every fifteen minutes. It was a complicated schedule, but
apparently necessary.
Mark A. Roeder
17
I couldn’t wait for my day off. I’d spent a lot of time in the park, but hadn’t
actually gotten to ride anything or just explore. We’d gone through a lot of train-
ing sessions, but it wasn’t the same as getting to ride the Fatal Falls or the bumper
cars or whatever. Walking through the park was a little like being tormented—
just like the girls on the Water Demon whom I could see, but not touch. I was
surrounded by all this cool stuff, but I couldn’t experience any of it—not yet any-
way.
I did derive a sort of vicarious happiness from the smiling guests who were
enjoying the park. I loved the scent of corn dogs, French fries, funnel cakes, and
freshly baked cookies that forever wafted on the air. I loved the sounds of the
park, too—the squeak of bumper car pedals, the rushing roar of the roller coast-
ers, the powerful whir of the scrambler, and the music of the carousel and Ferris
Wheel. I was surrounded by a world of fun and excitement.
I reminded myself the time would soon come when I could enter the park as a
guest. I thought about the free day passes I had. I wondered whom I should invite
to come with me. I’d give one to my best friend Eddie for sure. He was working
at the Marathon in town, but he had a couple of days off a week. Eddie was kind
of a burnout. He smoked weed, and I was pretty sure he did harder stuff some-
times. His bloodshot eyes were a sure giveaway. Eddie offered me pot once when
we were fourteen, but I turned him down and told him I didn’t do that stuff.
That was one thing cool about Eddie; he didn’t try to pressure me into anything.
When I told him I didn’t do weed, that was that; he never offered it to me again.
He smoked it around me sometimes, but he didn’t try to get me into it.
When we were fifteen, I lit up a cigarette in front of him and he smacked it
out of my hand. Don’t start that shit, he said. It’s way worse than weed. You get
started on that and you’ll never be able to stop. The fuckin’ tobacco companies wanna
get everyone hooked. There’s only two reasons tobacco’s legal and weed isn’t. The
tobacco company’s own the government, and pot’s easy to grow on your own, while
tobacco’s not. I figured Eddie knew what he was talking about, since he definitely
grew his own. I’d seen his little farm in the basement under grow lights. His dad
didn’t care, as long as he shared. Eddie might be a burnout, but he’d kept me
from smoking and he was a good friend.
- 18 -
Toby
I couldn’t believe how many people were in the park. Someone told me over
12,000 tickets had been sold in the first hour. Tons of people were riding the
Phantom World Railroad, but if I were guessing, I’d have said there were maybe
1,000 people walking around, instead of 12,000 and more. One really cool thing
about the park was that it was spread out. Everything wasn’t all crowded together
like I’d seen in some amusement parks. Phantom World was more like a town
park, with wide-open spaces and lots of trees. The flower beds were wonderful,
too. I loved flowers and the park had some of the most beautiful I’d ever seen.
The scent alone was heavenly.
Krista and I kept plenty busy. It was our job to let just enough people onto the
platform to fill the seats, and no more. It required a lot of counting, which got a
bit tiring, so we switched off on that. It was sometimes hard to get the train
loaded up quickly, because people naturally wanted to stick with their groups—
parents with their children, friends with other friends, couples with each other.
We tried to get each train filled as quickly as we could, because there was always a
line of people waiting for the next one to come along.
Krista and I had a lot of time to talk with each other and the guests. I told
Krista about Mackenzie, but I didn’t have too many good things to say. Mac
wasn’t exactly a bad little brother, but he was sure a bratty one. His main hobby
was giving me trouble. Sometimes, I wanted to smack him, but I was afraid to
because he was tougher than I was. He might be a year younger, but he was ath-
letic and strong. Sometimes, he made me wrestle with him. I wasn’t interested in
the least, but he pounced on me so I had no choice. I never won, even though I
Mark A. Roeder
19
did try. I hated his smug, superior grin when he’d pinned me down and made me
say “you’re the master” or some crap like that. I pretended I didn’t try when we
wrestled, but the truth was I put everything I had into it and still lost. I didn’t tell
Krista about that.
At 11:30, it was time for me to switch over to the merry-go-round. I bid
Krista goodbye, hoping I’d be assigned to work with her a lot. We could request
partners, so I was going to see if I could get paired up with her. She was fun and
just plain nice. I felt completely at ease around her.
I was working with a guy named C.T. on the merry-go-round. He sparked my
interest immediately. C.T. was the most obviously gay boy I’d ever met in my
life. His voice alone was a tip-off. He sounded like a younger version of Jack from
Will and Grace. I was instantly attracted to him, not because of his voice, but
because of his hair. He had beautiful, straight blond hair that was kinda long. It
would’ve looked out of control on most boys, but on him it was just right. He
had these long bangs that were forever in his eyes. He was always pushing them
away so he could see, but they never stayed off his face for more than a moment.
I wondered why he didn’t cut them, but I didn’t want to suggest it because they
made him look so cute. I wanted to grab him and kiss him. Yeah, come to me,
baby.
C.T.’s eyes were green and real pretty. He had long eyelashes. When he looked
at me it made me weak in the knees, just like in the movies. I found out he was a
year older than I was—seventeen. I almost lied and told him I was the same age
because I didn’t want him thinking I was a kid, but I didn’t like to lie. Besides
being wrong, it was just too hard to remember things if I lied. I had enough trou-
ble remembering things as they really were.
The sight of C.T. brought up feelings that were never buried very far beneath
the surface. What I wanted most in the entire world was a boyfriend. I dreamed
about boyfriends. I read about them in books like Common Sons and Desert Sons.
Maybe C.T. and I could be like Joel and Tom in Common Sons. He’d definitely
have to be Joel, ’cause he was the blond one, and even though C.T. wasn’t built
like Joel, he was lots closer than I was. Tom was slimmer and had dark hair, black
I think, just like mine. I think Tom’s hair was even kind of curly. Mine was very
curly and I wore it kind of long just so I didn’t go through life lookin’ like a Brillo
pad. Anyway, I desperately wanted a boyfriend and C.T. was the most likely can-
didate I’d come across in a long time. There was also the advantage that he didn’t
go to my school. I was always scared, no terrified, of approaching a guy at school
’cause I was afraid of getting my butt kicked. I wasn’t exactly out, but I wasn’t in,
either. I think most people kind of suspected I was gay, but didn’t ask. No one
Mark A. Roeder
20
had ever asked me. If they would’ve, I’d probably have told them the truth. But
then again, I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do so.
I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t see if C.T. wanted to have lunch with me—if
he had the same lunchtime, that is. I was kind of getting ahead of myself, though.
One step at a time, Toby. You just met him, I reminded myself.
It was mostly smaller kids and their parents who rode the merry-go-round, as
it was one of the calmer rides in Phantom World. There were kids my age, too,
and even older people, but most were younger. C.T. was real good with the little
kids. Most parents rode near their kids, but when they didn’t and got scared,
C.T. ran over and stood by them or held their hand. He was really sweet. I
wished he’d hold my hand.
The music blared, but I enjoyed it. I’d always loved all kinds of music. The
merry-go-round, or carousel, had calliope music. The sign by the entrance said it
was built in 1902. It had been fully restored and must’ve cost a fortune. There
were all kinds of beautifully carved and polished animals—zebras, giraffes, lions,
tigers, bears and more. There were a couple of big peacocks, with their feathers all
spread out to become benches where guests could just sit and go around and
around without moving up and down like on all the other animals. I loved the
peacocks. They had kind of an iridescent sheen to them and were all blues, greens
and purples. They were really pretty. I couldn’t believe I was getting paid to work
at this place!
A couple of teenage boys gave C.T. some trouble. They made fun of his voice
by mocking it and lisping. I didn’t know if it bothered him or not, because he
ignored them and just kept smiling. We were supposed to always smile when we
were working. It was part of “guest relations.” I imagined C.T. had been made
fun of a lot, ’cause, like I said, he was the most obviously gay boy I’d ever met. I
was completely straight-acting by comparison.
I didn’t ask C.T. to have lunch with me. I wanted to think about things before
I spent much time with him so I wouldn’t move too fast and do or say something
stupid. For now, I planned to just be real nice to him and then maybe later I’d
ask him. I’d keep an eye on him and watch to see if he checked me out. I’d also
keep my ears open for things he said that might have a double meaning—any-
thing that would give me some sign he was interested.
I had no idea how to go about getting a boyfriend. All I knew is stuff I’d read
in novels, and I wasn’t sure if real life worked like that or not. I wish someone
would write a book called, A Gay Boy’s Guide to Landing a Boyfriend, but I
doubted that would happen. If I ever found one, I’d buy it, even if it cost a hun-
dred bucks.
Mark A. Roeder
21
My entire first day was wonderful, but my feet were dead tired by the time I
began my shift on the Old Timers. I was in charge of stopping the cars as they
came in. Some people had a tendency to bump the car in front of them, which
wasn’t good for the cars. There was an antique-looking stop sign at the end of
ride, and there I climbed on the side of the cars and drove them up to the starting
point. I wished I could sit down in one and rest. As soon as the riders got off, the
guy who was working with me, Ben or Bill or whatever his name was, let another
pair out of line to get on. I gave them quick instructions and they were on their
way.
I liked the Old Timers. I think they had golf-cart engines, covered by a body
that looked like it was a Model T or something like that. The cars had cool
spoked wheels and looked like real antique cars, only smaller.
There were lots and lots of cute boys in the park, some of ’em riding the cars.
A great many of them were too young to be of any interest, but there were plenty
my age and older. I liked the older ones best because they were taller and had
more muscles. There was one riding with his girl. He had brown hair the color of
hot cocoa and was wearing a red tank top that showed off his bulging biceps. I
intentionally brushed up against his arm as I climbed on his car. The contact sent
a shiver through my body. I wished I were the girl with him. If I were, I would’ve
been on that boy like white on rice.
I didn’t let my eyes roam too much, but since my job was dealing with guests,
I had plenty of opportunities to smile at them and talk. Of course, I didn’t ignore
the guys who weren’t cute. I wasn’t a jerk after all, but I did get some boy-watch-
ing done while I was working.
I yearned for a boyfriend. I’d have taken one of the non-cute boys in a flash if
he was nice and funny. I knew good looks when I saw them (and I sure liked
looking), but I wasn’t stuck on appearances. If I could find a plain, ordinary,
sweet guy, I’d be all over him. If he was plain lookin’, or a little pudgy, or what-
ever, it wouldn’t matter. My thoughts went back to C.T. He was both cute and
sweet.
Long before it seemed time, the sky darkened and closing time was upon
Phantom World. Guests headed for the entrance in a mass, with a few lingering to
take a last look at the flowers and beautiful lights or to purchase an ice-cream
cone or funnel cake.
The park was especially lovely at night. It was filled with lights and shadows
that made it look like a whole different place—both spooky and beautiful at the
same time. The Ferris Wheel was a slowly spinning wheel of white light in the
darkness, and the carousel had a warm golden glow to it that made it appear even
Mark A. Roeder
22
more magical than in the daylight hours. Strings of lights ran over the paths
under the trees and the moonlight was allowed to illuminate the open spaces.
Phantom World felt like a huge county fair that just went on and on without end.
I admired the sights and sounds as I walked toward the staff lounge to clock
out. I munched on cotton candy while drawing in the scent of flowers, freshly
fried donuts, and buttered popcorn. I leaned in to catch the scent of the cotton
candy. I liked blue the best. It smelled the same, but I’d learned when very young
that it tasted much better than pink.
My feet were tired and my legs ached, but I’d had one great day. I even had a
prospective boyfriend. I almost couldn’t wait to get back to see what the next day
held in store for me.
- 23 -
Mackenzie
“He’s such a freak,” said Billy, as he tossed the football to me. He was speaking of
my brother. “I bet he just loves working in a park owned by those boy-band
queers.”
“I’m sure,” I said. “That’s probably why he works there. He even has a Jordan
poster on his wall.”
“Yeah, we should draw a mustache on it or somethin’.”
“No way, man, then I’d have to listen to him whine.”
Billy laughed. After my unsuccessful search for Toby’s journals, I’d returned
to the park to find Billy sitting alone on a bench. It was the chance meeting I’d
been trying to make happen. Billy seemed glad enough of my company and
quickly warmed to the topic of my pathetic older brother. I’d brought my foot-
ball along and we stood in one of the wide-open spaces of the park and tossed it
back and forth while we discussed my brother’s weirdness and overall freakish-
ness. Billy had seen Toby at school, but hadn’t realized he was my brother. It was
a fact that both confused and pleased me. Toby and I looked pretty much alike,
but I tried to distance myself from him. It wasn’t cool to have an uncool brother.
Billy had a good arm on him. He could’ve easily gone out for football. I
almost mentioned it, but then thought I’d better not. An organized sport didn’t
seem like Billy’s thing, and I wanted us to be friends. I needed to tread lightly
until I knew the lie of the land. Billy was kind of like a bog: Step in the wrong
place and you’re gone.
“I’ll tell ya something if you can keep it a secret,” I said. I’d had no intention
of telling anyone about what I’d found in Toby’s shoebox, but Billy had warmed
Mark A. Roeder
24
to the topic of Toby quickly, and I wanted to get in good with him as quickly as
possible.
“You know you can trust me,” said Billy, placing his hand over his heart. He
seemed about as insincere as he could get, but what did I really care? I proceeded
to tell him about the Undergear catalogs.
“It figures, man. I always figured your brother was queer. Anyone who sings in
a musical has to be—barf!”
Billy did an impersonation of Toby’s performance as Oliver in Oliver Twist,
which he’d performed at school last year. Billy had me rolling on the grass in fits
of laughter.
“I’ve thought he was a homo for a long time,” I said. “Anyone who listens to
those CDs has to be.” I proceeded to tell Billy about Toby’s music collection.
Billy pretended to hurl at the mention of Aaron Carter.
“I see we have somethin’ in common,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to kick
Aaron Carter’s ass.”
“Yeah, I’d like five minutes with that punk. He’s so cocky, thinks he’s such
hot shit, but I could show him a thing or two, the rich little bastard.”
I laughed.
“Hey, I saw Becky Wayne here earlier,” said Billy. “You know her, I’m sure.
She was wearin’ this tube-top-like thing. Man, I wanna pop her.”
Becky was a girl from school, a senior, and she was hot.
“Who doesn’t wanna pop her?” I asked.
“Your brother!” said Billy, causing me to laugh again.
“Damn,” said Billy. “Becky is fine. I’d bet she’d be great in the sack. I think
she’s still goin’ with Ted what’s-his-name? I bet she’s better than Cindy Erickson,
and I know she’s good.”
“Really? You and Cindy?”
“Hell, yeah, man. It was at that kick-ass party Chase Simmons had about a
month ago. Cindy was all hot for Mike Bradley, you know, the football jock?
But, anyway, he went off with Tami Sterling so I moved right on in. She’d been
drinking and wasn’t quite all there.” Billy grinned evilly and continued his tale. “I
got her outside with me and she gave me head, right in the shrubs in Chase’s
front yard. She’s damn good, too, man.”
Billy’s story made me stiff.
“Shit! I wish I could get Cindy to give me head, or any girl for that matter.”
“Never had it?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ll work on it.”
Mark A. Roeder
25
“Cindy?”
“Nah, man, she wouldn’t go for you. She wouldn’t have gone for me if she
hadn’t been wasted. She likes them big, jock football players.”
“Don’t they all?”
“Well, not all of ’em, but too many. Anyway, I’ll see what I can do. We gotta
get you laid, man.”
I grinned. Having Billy as a friend sure looked like it had some bitchin’ fringe
benefits.
“Hey, I’m starving. Want to go get something to eat?” asked Billy.
“Can’t, I don’t have any money.”
Billy smacked his head, “Neither do I.”
“Mom will fix us something,” I offered.
“She won’t mind?”
“Nah. Come on.”
“Cool.”
My plan was speeding along nicely. Billy was coming home with me. I had a
feeling Billy was a key that would open a lot of doors. He wasn’t much older than
I was, but he knew things—and people. Besides, he was cool to hang with.
We were back at the house in no time at all. Mom baked us a frozen pizza, and
Billy and I ate it at the kitchen table. Billy was extra nice around my mom. He
knew just what to say. He was like that with people. It was a skill I admired in
him and one I lacked.
Toby eyed Billy cautiously when he came into the kitchen. We were finishing
off the pizza and demolishing a bag of potato chips. Toby pulled out a bowl and
a box of his favorite cereal, Cookie Crisp.
“Hey, isn’t that the new gay cereal?” asked Billy.
“Huh? Gay cereal?” asked Toby, his brow furrowing and his face growing red.
“Yeah, homos! Snap, crackle, and bend over!” Billy laughed so hard he
choked, and I lost it, too.
“Shut up,” said Toby, as he poured milk on his cereal and then took it upstairs
to our room.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Toby conked out early and Billy went home. Mom wouldn’t let me go out
again, since it was getting late, so I decided to put the time to good use and do a
little snooping. I powered up the family computer and began to search for Toby’s
journal. I knew he kept it on the computer somewhere, likely disguised as some-
Mark A. Roeder
26
thing else. It took me a good forty minutes, but I finally found a suspicious
word-processing file called “Toby’s Address Book.” The file size was way too big
to contain just addresses.
I tried opening it and found it was secured with a password. Yeah, it had to be
his journal. Why else would it have a password on it? I tried to hack past it, but
none of the usual tricks was working. I wondered if I could put the program I’d
found on the internet to use. It was meant to break into sites requiring a user-
name and password by running through a list of thousands of possibilities, trying
every conceivable combination. I’d tried it a few times to get into porn sites that
required a membership. Most of the time it didn’t work, but sometimes I got
lucky. I tried adapting the program to hack into Toby’s journal, but I couldn’t
get it to do what I wanted. Frustrated, I tried typing in passwords I thought he
might use—Phantom, Hanson, Backstreet, Aaron Carter, and on and on. I tried
his birthday and our phone number, too, but no luck.
I grew tired of trying to hack into Toby’s journal, so I thought I’d do a bit of
snooping on the hard drive. I knew lots more about computers than Toby, even
though he was the geek of the family. I got into the internet history to see what I
could come up with. Most of it was just crap, of course, sites Mom or Dad or I
had looked at. I found entries for Phantom and Hanson websites—what an obses-
sion my brother had with boy bands. I came across an entry that included “shirt-
less aaron carter” in the address. Wasn’t his poster enough for him? If Toby
wanted to see a bunch of pics of Aaron Carter without a shirt, that was more
proof he was queer, but it wasn’t of much use or interest. I found some other sites
in the history like “shirtless teen celebs” and “shirtless boybands,” but no actual
porn. Damn, my brother was boring. Finally, I found something of interest,
“Gay.com.”
“Let’s see what you’ve been doing, Toby,” I said to myself as I brought up the
link.
I traced Toby’s path through the site and most of it was boring. This wasn’t a
porn site either, not that I wanted to see any naked guys. I just wanted to find out
more about what Toby had been up to. I discovered Toby had been in the chat
rooms on the site any number of times. The history was only for the past 30 days,
but he’d been chatting a lot under the username, Phantomboy16. Damn, even
his screen name was Phantom related. The boy was obsessed.
Hmm, interesting—profiles. I checked to see if my brother had created one. He
had. I clicked on the link. There was no photo, but he’d written some stuff: “18
years old.” Liar. “5'8”, 120 pounds, black hair, brown eyes. Interests include the-
atre, music (especially boy bands), reading, and gardening.” How pathetic and
Mark A. Roeder
27
boring could you get? I read his comment, “I’m looking for a boyfriend, but I
might consider just sex with the right guy.” Puke. There was more, but it wasn’t
interesting at all.
I shut down the computer. If I’d had any doubts before, they were gone. Toby
was queer. You don’t have a profile saying you’re looking for a boyfriend if you’re
straight. I’d have to do some thinking about what I’d found. I wasn’t going to say
anything to Toby just yet. I wanted to keep some tricks up my sleeve. I also
wanted to keep Toby in the dark. Big bro had no idea I could tell what he’d been
doing on the internet, and I wanted to keep it that way. Besides, there were
plenty of ways to drive Toby nuts. I could save my newfound knowledge for
later.
- 28 -
Orlando
I held the raft steady while a couple of little girls climbed in. I was working the
Ghoul Lake raft ride, which was probably the least exciting one in the park. It was
popular, though, and I could see why. I’d always liked rowing a boat around on a
lake, and that’s pretty much what the ride was all about. There were a series of big
two-man rubber inner-tubes with paddles. Guests rowed themselves over the
lake. It looked like they were just rowing wherever they pleased, but there was an
underground track that the tubes followed. There was another illusion to the
lake, as well. It looked like a natural lake that was plenty deep, but the part where
the ride was located had a depth of only three feet. If there was trouble, I could
easily wade out and pull in the rafts.
I was working with a really cute girl, named Krista. She had curves in all the
right places, and I had to fight myself to keep from staring at her chest. I found
myself wishing I could get a look at her coming off the Water Demon with her
shirt all wet and adhering to her chest. Calm down, Orlando. You can only adjust
your shorts so often without her noticing. Krista was beautiful. Her blonde hair
shone like gold in the sun and those eyes—wow, they were light blue and so
pretty.
“I like working Ghoul Lake, don’t you?” asked Krista as she guided another
pair of little kids my way.
I swallowed. Why did my throat try to close up when she spoke to me?
“Yeah, it’s beautiful here,” I said. She smiled. Wow. I wanna kiss you so bad, I
thought to Krista. It was a pity I didn’t have the courage to say it, but, then again,
we’d just met.
Mark A. Roeder
29
We looked out over the little lake for a few moments after I gave the tube a
push to get it going. The sun sparkled on the surface, making it look as if it were
made up of diamonds, or stars. The Poltergeist was on the other side of the lake.
The roar of the cars careering over the tracks and the screams of the riders were
loud enough to be heard over most of the park. The giant roller coaster wasn’t far
away, but it sounded for all the world as if we were standing next to it. I guess the
water carried the sound.
An elderly couple was next in line. They were having a little trouble getting
into the raft, so I slipped off my shoes and hopped down into the water to steady
the tube and help them get seated. By the entrance, the water was only about a
foot and a half deep and it was pleasantly warm.
“How do you get your hair to spike up like that?” asked Krista when the old
couple was on their way.
“This is pretty much the only way my hair will go when it’s this short. My
hair’s real straight.”
“It looks sexy,” said Krista.
Sexy? “Thanks,” I said, wondering if she was just making conversation or if she
was flirting with me. I hoped she was flirting. Please, God, let her be flirting! My
heart was racing.
My stomach rumbled. I hoped Krista didn’t hear. I glanced at my watch—
1:15. Thank God, it was nearly time to eat.
“Hey, when are you off for lunch?” I asked.
“Um, 1:30 today.”
“Me too. Wanna eat lunch together?”
“I’d like that,” said Krista. I grinned, hoping I didn’t look too goofy.
My chest felt all tight and the next fifteen minutes seemed to last forever and
pass in an instant, if that makes any sense. I felt like I was in some weird time dis-
tortion.
When our replacements arrived, Krista and I walked down the path, heading
for the main walkway where most of the food booths were located.
“What do you feel like?” I asked. “Burgers, hot dogs, seafood, or…”
“I’m kind of in the mood for chicken. I think they have those chicken fingers
down by the Splashing Specter.”
“Mmm, yeah, like the ones at Arby’s with that honey mustard sauce to dip
them in.”
“Oh, I love those, especially with that sauce!”
Krista and I hurried along, passing the Ferris Wheel, The Graymoor Mansion,
and lots of different booths. Soon, we were ordering. I almost couldn’t believe
Mark A. Roeder
30
that my order of chicken fingers, fries, and a root beer added up to only $2. Of
course, drinks were free and I got 50% off. I didn’t know if I’d ever use up my
entire $10 allowance in a day. It accumulated, too, which was great. Sometime,
when I was going home at the right time, I was going to get supper for Mom and
me. That would help us make ends meet.
Krista and I found a vacant bench in the sun and sat down with our lunch.
She told me how she was saving up for college. She was planning on going to vet-
erinarian school.
“Oh, that’s cool,” I said. “I have two guinea pigs, Hershey and Snowball. Her-
shey is a chocolate colored male and Snowball is a mostly white female. She looks
like of like one of those snowball things, you know, covered with coconut with
chocolate cake and cream filling inside?”
“Those are cute names.”
“I’d like to have a dog, but they’re too expensive with all the shots and stuff.
Hershey and Snowball are fun, though. You should see ’em running around their
cage, chasing each other and squealing. Snowball squeals real loud if they’re out
of food, too.”
Krista laughed.
“I love animals,” she said. “That’s why I want to be a vet.”
“I don’t think I could handle that,” I said. “It would be hard seeing cats and
dogs and other animals hurt, and I could never put anything to sleep.”
“Yeah, I know, but as a vet, I’ll be helping them. I will see them hurt, but I’ll
be making them better.”
“True. I found a little rabbit with a broken leg once. I made a little splint for it
and set it loose. Mom helped me. I forget what we tied the splints with. It was
something that would disintegrate after a while so the splints would fall off.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you and your Mom. Smart too, thinking of the splints
needing to come off.”
“That was Mom’s idea. She thinks of everything.”
“What do you want to study in college?”
“I dunno,” I said. “I’m not sure I’ll be going. It’s just Mom and me and we
don’t have much money.”
“Maybe you can get a scholarship or something like that. I think there are pro-
grams to help low-income people.” Krista looked down and then glanced at me as
if she were alarmed. I didn’t understand until she spoke. “I’m sorry. I hope I
didn’t make you mad.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“Some people don’t like it if you talk about them not having money.”
Mark A. Roeder
31
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I don’t see anything wrong with being low
income. Mom works hard and I work, but it’s just tough to pay for everything,
you know? I’m working here to help out. I think it’s the really rich people who
should be ashamed of themselves. I mean, there are people out there who don’t
even have enough to eat, and then there are people who live in big mansions and
own all kinds of crap they don’t even need. They should be using some of their
money to help out people who really need it bad, but they don’t.”
“Yeah, that’s sure the truth,” said Krista.
Lunch hour just whizzed by. Krista was not only beautiful, she was sweet and
kind and fun. I really liked her.
“Hey, where you headed next?”
“The Twister.”
“Cool! Me, too.” Krista smiled. I think she was as happy as I was that we’d be
together longer. We tossed away our paper baskets, napkins, and cups and headed
across the park toward the roller coaster. It was near the entrance to the park,
across from the Phantom World Railroad.
The Twister wasn’t as big as The Poltergeist, but it had a lot more loops and
turns. In a few places, it even went upside down. It was a steel coaster and the cars
held five people across, unlike The Poltergeist, which had room for only two.
When we arrived, there was a huge line. The coasters were some of the most
popular rides in the park. The guys we were replacing took off, but a third ner-
vous-looking boy stayed.
“Toby,” said Krista and he smiled. “You want to handle taking cameras and
things for people, Orlando can check the restraints, and I’ll run the coaster?”
“Sounds good,” said Toby. He looked relieved. I think the idea of actually
running the coaster frightened him, although it was really nothing more than
pushing buttons and keeping track of the board. The computer did all the real
work. My job was probably the most difficult—making sure the restraint bar was
pulled down for every row. Most people did it themselves, but it still had to be
checked since it wouldn’t lock in place if it wasn’t pulled down far enough. Actu-
ally, the computer could just about take care of that, too. It wouldn’t send the
cars out if all the restraints weren’t locked in place. All the rides at Phantom
World had a lot of safety features built in. They were more or less idiot-proof,
which was good, because I could be an idiot at times. I hoped to keep that a secret
from Krista.
Toby seemed like a nice kid. He looked a bit younger than I was. He was kind
of small and had very curly hair, which he wore kind of long. I gathered he and
Krista already knew each other.
Mark A. Roeder
32
When the first car was on its way, we had a chance to talk. Krista introduced
us. Toby was full of energy and kind of crazy. He was a nice addition to Krista
and me. Part of me wanted Krista all to myself, but having Toby there kind of
took the pressure off of having to think of what to say. So far, our conversation
had come pretty easy, but even during lunch there were times when I didn’t quite
know what to talk about. I wanted Krista to think I was witty and funny, and I
was afraid I’d say something stupid to ruin the illusion.
I wondered about asking Krista out on a real date. I didn’t want to move too
fast, though. She was probably used to guys asking her out the first chance they
got. At the same time, I didn’t want to get beat out by some other guy. This was
only our second day of work, and I just knew other boys had to have their eye on
Krista. Toby was sure chummy with her. I didn’t think Krista would go for him,
although I didn’t know her type. Toby was a good-looking kid, but he was kind
of short and skinny. I figured Krista would want someone a little more mature,
someone more man-like. I sure hoped so, but, at the same time, I hoped she
didn’t want an older guy. There were plenty of college guys around, and some of
’em looked like they’d stepped out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. I was
going to get to know Krista a bit better before I asked her out, but I wasn’t going
to wait long.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I answered the front door.
“Hey, sport. Is your mom home?”
It was Gene, the guy who’d been taking Mom out some. They were kind of
dating, I guessed. Mom hadn’t really said. She was sort of shy talking about that
kind of thing. I hadn’t made up my mind about Gene, but he wasn’t making any
points calling me sport.
“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen. Mom! Gene’s here!” I yelled.
Gene handed me ten bucks and winked. I watched him as he headed for the
kitchen and then slipped the money into my pocket. I’d seen this strategy before:
Get to the mother by getting in good with the son. Lots of guys had been after
Mom over the years because she was pretty. The guys who wanted to date her
usually gave me stuff or took me places. I liked a few of them, but Mom obvi-
ously hadn’t found one she liked well enough to keep. I wasn’t sure about Gene,
but he kinda struck me as fake. There was something in the way he smiled at me.
He’d probably try and get rid of me as fast as he could if he ended up marrying
Mark A. Roeder
33
Mom. Of course, if that meant paying for college, it might not be a bad thing. I
was going to withhold judgment until I knew more.
Mom invited Gene to supper, which meant I had to sit and eat at the kitchen
table with them. Mom made me eat with her a lot, but I could often get away
with eating in front of the TV or up in my room. If there was company, I was
doomed to the table.
Mom made some generic hamburger-helper-type stuff from Save-a-Lot. It was
good, though. The generic stuff was often as good as the real thing and some-
times better. I liked the Big-K drinks from Jay-C way better than Coke or Pepsi.
Generic cranberry juice was the best, too, but toilet paper: no way. Give me
Charmin any day!
“So, Orlando, do you have a girlfriend?” asked Gene.
Why did everyone have to ask the same question?
“No, but I met a girl I like.”
“Maybe I should give you some pointers.”
“No, thanks.” I resented the way he was trying to act like my dad, but I didn’t
show it, for Mom’s sake. I wanted her to make up her own mind about whether
she liked him or not. If she did, I’d just bite the bullet.
Gene wasn’t as old as Mom. He was like twenty-eight, and Mom was forty.
She’d never gone out with such a young guy before. It made it that much weirder
when Gene tried to act fatherly. He wasn’t that much older than I, just eleven
years. He could almost have been my brother.
I didn’t mind when Mom dated. After all, Dad just up and left us, so why
shouldn’t she date? I wondered if Mom was dating a younger guy to get back at
him some way. But, it’s not like Dad knew about it. We hadn’t seen him since he
took off.
I excused myself as soon as I could. I was dog-tired and didn’t like sitting there
with Mom and Gene. They probably wanted to be alone anyway. Gene gave me
a wink as I left the kitchen, as if to say, “Thanks for taking off so I can have time
alone with your mother.” I guess having her teenaged son around did kind of put
a cramp in his style.
I closed the door to my room, and then stripped down to my boxers and lay
on the bed listening to music. It was early, but exhaustion took me and I fell
asleep listening to The Moffatts singing Life on Mars.
- 34 -
Toby
Orlando was cute! Not only that, he was freaking hot! I prayed he didn’t notice
me looking him over, but damn, I couldn’t help myself. That short spiky hair
and that awesome tan were just about too much for me. Orlando had a nice
build, too. I liked the way his chest muscles pushed against his shirt. I liked the
way his biceps pressed against his sleeves. And that voice! How sexy can you get?
Wolf.
I’d seen some cute guys at the park, but Orlando was in a class by himself.
There was something about him that just made me weak in the knees. I actually
lost myself in a little daydream as I was working with him and Krista on The
Twister. I pictured him taking me in his arms, holding me tight and kissing me
right on the lips! Orlando would make one sweet boyfriend.
Unlike C.T., whom I’d met the day before, Orlando didn’t seem gay. I knew
most guys weren’t. Only 10% of us were queer, right? I could still hope, though.
Orlando was fun. Krista obviously liked him. She and Orlando joked around a
lot. I joined in, but I felt a little shy around him. We’d only just met, after all. I
liked his sense of humor, though. I even caught some things that tipped me off
that he liked some of the same old BBC comedies I did—the ones they some-
times played on PBS, like Good Neighbors and Manor Born. When Orlando
referred to one of our bosses as a “pathological supervisor,” he even sounded like
Barbara Good talking about Margot Ledbetter from Good Neighbors. He even did
the British accent, which sounded both cool and weird mixed with his Latin
accent. I wondered where he was from.
Mark A. Roeder
35
I had a lot of time to think about Orlando, because after my shift on The
Twister I was assigned to the cotton-candy booth. Most of the booths just had
one person running them, except for the hamburger booth and others that
required more cooking. Cotton candy was a one-person booth, so I stood there
alone for a couple of hours. I could see the merry-go-round in the near distance
and hear its music. That was where Orlando was working. Krista had gone on to
the bumper cars.
I was kept pretty busy serving customers and making cotton candy. It was
weird how sugar crystals could be changed and fluffed out until they looked like
cotton. I had to sample some of it, of course. I probably ate a couple of bags full
in the two hours I was there. Even though there were plenty of customers, I had a
lot of time to think to myself. Mostly, I thought about Orlando. I wished I had
the courage to just ask him out—just kind of a boys’ night out sort of thing,
although I wasn’t quite sure what that was. Did going to a movie count, or did it
have to be something like bowling or…or…one of those other guy-type things?
It was times like this I wished I was better tuned into guy stuff. I’d always been a
little confused over the excitement most guys showed when they were watching
basketball on TV or something like that. Mackenzie and Dad could go crazy
when some guy made a basket or scored a touchdown. Sometimes, they even
jumped up and hugged each other. The whole thing baffled me.
I wanted to see if I could get assigned to work with C.T.—C.T., Krista, and
Orlando—that was going to be my request. I wondered about C.T. Was he as
confused by guy stuff as me? I wanted to get to know him so we could talk, but I
couldn’t just up and say something like, “Hey, you’re gay, too, aren’t you?” I had
to ease into things somehow. I wasn’t too worried about revealing myself to C.T.
He seemed pretty safe. Still, I didn’t want to screw things up. C.T. was my best
shot at having a boyfriend. At least, he seemed the most likely candidate so far.
Orlando and C.T.—they were definitely going to be my main targets. I’d keep
my eyes open for other possible boyfriend material, of course, and just for the fun
of looking at boys, but Orlando and C.T. were the ones I was going to concen-
trate on. If things didn’t work out with one, maybe they would with the other. In
any case, I liked ’em both and wanted to hang out with them even if nothing ever
happened between us.
I stood there in the booth daydreaming about my boys. I wondered what it
would be like to kiss them. I even pictured them kissing each other. I was glad the
lower half of me was hidden, because my thoughts of C.T. and Orlando were
exciting me.
Mark A. Roeder
36
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
When I got home, Mackenzie, a.k.a. the little monster, was over at Billy’s
house. That was good news. I knew Billy from school, at least by reputation, and
it had unnerved me to see him in my very own kitchen the night before. I hoped
he wouldn’t start hanging around. Well, most of me hoped that he wouldn’t. But
he was kinda cute, so there was a part of me that…well, anyway. Mackenzie was
bad enough all by himself, and I had the feeling that, when combined with Billy,
he’d be vastly more annoying. Mac was usually a jerk, but if he teamed up with
Billy it would be two against one, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
Mom and Dad went out, so I actually had the whole house to myself for a
while. I heated up some macaroni and cheese from the ‘fridge and hopped on the
internet. The computer screen faced away from the living room, but it was still
nice to be online without worrying that someone would come over and cause me
to quickly jump to a less incriminating site. There were a lot of Yahoo Groups
that had cool photos of shirtless boys. I belonged to several and often spent a lot
of time looking at the pictures. I’d also gotten into chatting on Gay.com. It was
cool because there was an Indiana room and even rooms of towns that weren’t
too far away, although there usually wasn’t anyone in those.
I signed onto Gay.com and worked my way into the Indiana room. It was
kind of a pain to get in there because you had to sign on, then get into chat, and
then get into the room. Sometimes, it was full so I had to try over and over and
over to get in. I swore our internet connection was the slowest anywhere, and
tons of people always got in before me while I was waiting for a spot to open up.
Even though there were several people on, I was able to get right into the Indi-
ana room this time. I recognized a lot of the screen names. Some people seemed
to live in there. There was also what was called “bots” that weren’t real people at
all, but computer programs advertising something or other, usually something
nasty.
I got excited once because someone with a cool screen name sent me a private
message. I don’t remember the name, but it was something like
abercrombieboy16 or something like that. It turned out to be a stupid bot.
I’d talked to a few real guys, though. Most of them were older and wanted to
meet up with me. I was tempted sometimes, even though it was guys as old as my
dad, but I didn’t want to waste my first time on some old guy. I was afraid, too.
I’d heard plenty of scary stories about internet hookups. I didn’t want to end up
in the trunk of some psycho’s car.
Mark A. Roeder
37
What I really wanted was a guy near my age whom I could talk with. If he was
close, maybe we could be boyfriends or even just meet up and do it. I’d decided I
was willing to do that, if the right guy came along. I wanted my first time to be
with a boy I really cared about, but I wasn’t going to wait forever. I’d be willing
to settle for a guy I liked. He didn’t even have to be cute, just a nice guy. That
kind of thing seemed hard to find, though. There were plenty of guys looking for
fun, but they were either too old, too scary, or both.
I received a pvt, or private message, almost as soon as I signed on, but it was
some guy asking if I wanted to hook up. I hated that. There’s no way he had time
to look at my profile. He was just blindly asking me to have sex with him. There
was no way I was gonna hook up with someone like that. I ignored him. About
the only thing I hated more was when someone pvt’ed and asked how big I was.
Since my height and weight were in my profile, they had to be referring to Little
Toby (that was my nickname for my, um…well, you know). What a way to start
a conversation. I wasn’t about to tell anyone something like that. Well, at least
not right off. Anyone who asked me that the very first thing got ignored. There
were some real creeps online. I’d learned that fast.
After half an hour or so of nothing interesting happening, someone new came
in the room. There were always guys exiting and entering, but I recognized most
of the names. I’d talked to a few of them before—just chatting. I was doing that
with one guy who lived up north when I got another pvt. This one didn’t start
out with a question about my length, it just said, “Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Nothing much,” I typed.
“How old are you?”
“16,” I typed, forgetting my profile said eighteen. I’d learned a lot of guys
wouldn’t talk to you if you weren’t at least eighteen. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t
even old enough to be in the chat room, so I lied about my age unless I forgot.
“Hey, cool, I’m 16, too.”
I looked at the screen name. It was jockboy16. I looked up his profile, but there
was none.
“Where do you live?” I typed.
“SW Indiana, kinda between Princeton and Jasper.”
“Really? Cool! I live in that area, too!”
“Nice, what do you look like?” he asked.
“I’m about 5'8", 120 pounds, black hair, brown eyes. My hair is curly.”
“Sounds good. I’m 6', 170, short black hair, brown eyes.”
“Cool,” I typed. I thought about typing in Mmmmm, which was what I was
thinking, but I didn’t want to seem sex-crazed.
Mark A. Roeder
38
“You’ve gotta cool screen name.”
“Thanks,” I typed. “You like Phantom?”
“Oh yeah, they’re cool. That Jordan is hot.”
“I LOVE Phantom and especially Jordan. I mean, wow. Ross and Kieran are
cute, too, but Jordan…”
“LOL, you’re definitely into them. I like them, but I’m more into their music.
It’s the same with the other boy bands. I listen to their stuff, but I couldn’t tell
you their names or anything if my life depended on it. The only name I know is
Jordan, but who doesn’t know about him?”
“Yeah, that’s cool.”
I grinned. I’d never found another guy on Gay.com who liked Phantom. I’d
gone in some of the Yahoo Phantom Chat Rooms and talked to guys there, but
that was a different kind of scene. It was just chat. On Gay.com, chatting could
lead to something. Hopefully, that something would be a nice boy to date.
“So, what are you looking for on here?”
I’d heard that question before. It was usually followed by, “Do you want to
hook up?” I was thinking I wouldn’t mind if jockboy16 asked me that, even
though I was hoping for more than just sex.
“A boyfriend, or someone for fun, or just a friend.”
“Yeah? Cool, me too. So, I guess you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“Nah. I wouldn’t be looking for one if I had one.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s right. I don’t have one either.”
We chatted about some of our interests. Jockboy told me he was into acting
and liked to go and see plays. He also liked to read sometimes, and the Harry Pot-
ter books were his favorites. I asked if he was into sports, mainly because of his
name. He told me he wasn’t, but he liked working out. That sounded promising.
I was also glad he wasn’t a sports nut. That would’ve sucked.
We talked for nearly an hour when Jockboy had to sign off. After he’d disap-
peared, I wished I’d asked his name, but thinking of him as Jockboy sure wasn’t a
bad thing.
My chest felt warm. Most of my life I’d felt like I had no hope of finding a
boyfriend and now possibilities were popping up everywhere: Orlando, C.T., and
now Jockboy. Surely, at least one of them would turn out to be the one. I went to
bed with that happy thought swimming around in my head.
- 39 -
Mackenzie
“Your brother is such a loser,” said Billy, laughing hysterically, as he typed on the
computer. We were chatting with Toby on Gay.com, but, of course, Toby had
no idea it was us. I’d told Billy about the discoveries I made on our computer at
home, and he came up with the excellent idea of screwing with Toby on the
internet. I was so glad I’d kept my mouth shut about the catalogs I found in the
closet and the internet history I uncovered on the computer. I nearly couldn’t
resist the temptation to taunt Toby with my discoveries about his queerness, but
this was far, far more fun. It was getting me in good with Billy, too. He smiled
gleefully as he typed, and I have to admit I was grinning as well. This was the best
prank I’d ever pulled on Toby—way better than the time I’d taped the legs of all
his boxers together, or even the time I told him Becky Deville had a crush on
him. The last one, I now knew, failed because Toby had no interest in girls, but it
was still fun watching him get all nervous and worried that Becky might ask him
out.
“You get that description I gave him written down?” asked Billy. “We’ve gotta
keep notes on what we tell him so we won’t make any mistakes.”
I hadn’t written down anything, but I grabbed a pencil and began making
notes. It had never entered my mind, but I guessed we did need to keep track of
things in case Toby, a.k.a. Phantomboy16, asked questions. It would mess things
up if we told him Jockboy was 6' one time and 5'10" another. Billy had come up
with the screen name. He’d figured it would appeal to my brother.
“He’s asking if I’m into sports,” said Billy. “What should I say?”
I thought quickly. Toby hated sports.
Mark A. Roeder
40
“Tell him no, but that you are into lifting weights. I don’t know if he’d like a
sports guy, but I’m pretty sure he’s into muscles, if those Undergear catalogs of
his mean anything.”
“Damn, you’re good,” said Billy.
“Partners in crime,” I said, and we did a high five.
“I just told him I’m into acting. What else?”
“Tell him you love reading Harry Potter. Those are his favorite books.”
“What if he asks questions about them?”
“No problem, we saw the first two movies, remember?” I reminded Billy. “We
can just tell him we haven’t read the rest of them yet.”
“Okay, cool. We just don’t want to give him anything to pin us down on—
don’t want to get cornered with questions we can’t answer.”
“I’m sure you can bullshit him, Billy.”
Billy got up and took a bow.
“Hey, we should cut off soon. We don’t want to tell him too much right off.
Let’s make this last,” I said.
“Yeah, we can have our little bit of fun with him whenever it suits us. Let’s
wait a day or two before we get on again—make him wait.”
“You’re evil, Billy. I love it!”
We both laughed. Billy told Toby that Jockboy had to go. I was already think-
ing about how our newly found toy could be put to mischievous purposes. If we
played this right, I could get a lifetime’s worth of material for tormenting Toby
and he’d be none the wiser. This was way better than getting into his journal. I
was willing to bet we could get him to tell us anything.
Billy had a wicked gleam in his eye as he shut off the internet. We were alone
in his room. He pounced on me and wrestled me down to the floor.
“Wuss!” I growled and shoved against his right shoulder, pushing him off me.
Billy had a few pounds on me and was a little taller, but I was just about as strong
as he was.
Billy worked his way on top of me again, after a rather successful headlock. He
lay full length on top of me and ground his crotch into mine.
“Oh, sick, dude!” I shouted.
“I’m your brother,” he said giggling.
“Dude, that is just too gross. Get off me!”
Billy kept it up.
“If you want to get up, you’ve gotta wrestle your way out.”
I attacked, twisting and turning so fiercely I knocked Billy into his dresser,
slamming it against the wall.
Mark A. Roeder
41
“What the hell are you two doing in there?” yelled Billy’s dad, just outside the
door.
“Just wrestling.”
“Well, knock it off! I’m trying to watch TV!”
We broke apart. Billy scowled at the door. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard
him say “fucker” under his breath. I was shocked. I’d never say that to my dad,
even in a whisper he couldn’t hear.
Billy and I hung out for a while in his room. It was sparsely furnished. The
computer, an old clunker with only a 200 MHz processor and a 50 MB hard
drive was the nicest thing in the room. It had a “Property of Pike County School
System” sticker on the side, and I wondered if it’d been stolen. The computer
stood on an old scuffed, blond desk. In front of the desk sat a rickety chair. Billy’s
bed was a single mattress and box springs that sat on concrete blocks. A scratched
up dresser with rock group stickers half falling off it was the final piece of furni-
ture in the room. Billy’s family was obviously poor, but he didn’t seem to care.
We played an old Conquest of the Empire game on the floor for an hour, but I
had to leave before we finished it. I wanted to beat Mom and Dad home. They
weren’t too strict about me being out, but it was getting close to ten and I knew
I’d better not push it. Billy shoved the game into the corner, saying we’d finish it
later.
I thought about Billy on the walk home. I didn’t think he had a mother. Well,
he had one or he wouldn’t have been born, but there was no sign of her in Billy’s
home. I wondered if she was dead or just somewhere else. She might’ve left Billy’s
dad because he wasn’t too cool; at least that was my first impression of him. He
barely acknowledged Billy when we entered, but he looked me over pretty good
and it made me uncomfortable. He just sat there in a scruffy recliner, wearing an
old, sleeveless undershirt, staring at me. As soon as Billy pulled me up the stairs to
his room, his dad went back to watching TV. When I left, he was still in the same
spot. If he hadn’t come upstairs to yell at us, I don’t think he’d ever have left his
chair.
Billy’s house was all rundown and dingy. The carpet in the living room was an
orange and yellow shag that was stained and worn—a leftover from the 1970s.
Mom would’ve tossed it out in a second. Their whole house had a dirty feel to it,
like it was never cleaned. When Billy had taken me into the kitchen, there were
old banana peels turning black on the table and empty cans of Sunkist Tuna sit-
ting on the counter. Billy’s house smelled funny.
Billy didn’t seem to mind his house, so I didn’t care either. It must’ve been
cool to never have to clean his room. Of course, I never cleaned the room I shared
Mark A. Roeder
42
with Toby, either. He was a neatness fanatic and freaked out if I left underwear or
socks on the floor. He’d learned long ago not to badger me about picking things
up. I ignored him when he did. He whined about it some, but he ended up clean-
ing it all up himself. It was kinda like having a maid.
Mom and Dad weren’t back yet when I got home, so I was safe. Toby seemed
cheerful. I almost wanted to laugh when I looked at him. He was such a queer.
- 43 -
Orlando
I was itching for a day off. It’s not that I didn’t like working at Phantom World;
quite the opposite really. I was dying to get on the roller coasters and the water
rides. I could hear the distant rumble of The Poltergeist as I neared The Graymoor
Mansion. It was as if it were calling to me, beckoning me to risk life and limb on
its steep inclines and sharply banked curves. Roller coasters scared the crap out of
me, but I loved them just the same. I’d ridden The Raven and The Legend at Hol-
iday World plenty of times and each ride was as thrilling as the first. The Raven
sometimes felt as if it were coming right up off the track, which never failed to
make me think my insides were crawling up my throat. The Legend had two or
three “head-choppers,” places where it passed through a tunnel or under a walk-
way. I couldn’t help but duck, even though I’d been under them several times.
Whenever I got off either of the roller coasters, my heart pounded and I felt as if
I’d been running. It was awesome! I wondered what The Poltergeist and The
Twister had to offer.
As I walked up the steep incline toward The Graymoor Mansion, I could hear
moans and ghastly screams coming from inside. The haunted mansion was
another ride I couldn’t wait to experience for myself. It had little two-man cars
that rode on a track, passing through the mansion and coming outside some-
times. I could only guess at what waited inside.
My heart beat a little faster as I squeezed past the guests toward the head of the
line. Krista was standing there in the darkness, illuminated only by light from
flickering torches and a huge chandelier overhead, ablaze with candles. The can-
Mark A. Roeder
44
dle and torchlight complemented her soft beauty. I wanted to just walk right up
and kiss her, but instead, I just said hi.
Toby was there, too. We’d become quite the trio. We didn’t work together on
every ride, but we were together as often as not, and it pleased me. I wanted to be
near Krista as much as possible, and Toby was a load of fun. He was forever
laughing and talking with us and the guests.
I smiled whenever I spoke to Krista or just looked at her. I couldn’t help it.
She was beautiful. Her blonde hair just drew me right to her. I must’ve thought
about kissing her a hundred times a day. It was too soon to try that, but I had
been working up to asking her out. I’d promised myself that today was the day.
All three of us were working The Graymoor Mansion until our lunchtime of
1:30. Our shift together started at 11:45, but I couldn’t find the courage to ask
Krista out. I tried to force myself to ask her a few times, but I got tongue-tied or
just plain chickened out. I was frustrated with myself. What was the big deal?
The worst she could do was say no. I thought I just might die if she did that,
however. Had anyone ever keeled over from rejection?
I was so preoccupied that the screams from the haunted mansion made me
jump once or twice. I felt foolish, but no one seemed to notice. We kept pretty
busy helping guests on and off the ride. The cars never did quite stop; they just
moved along slowly and the guests hopped in as the cars passed. Once in a while,
we did stop the cars for a moment for those who had trouble getting in or out.
We had to do that for a lady in a wheelchair. Phantom World was really cool,
because every bit of it was handicapped accessible. If someone in a wheelchair or
crutches wanted to ride on one of the roller coasters or other rides, it was no
problem. About the only people that couldn’t ride on certain things were kids
who were too short, and that was for safety reasons.
Lunchtime came before I’d worked up the courage to ask Krista out. The
three of us went to the seafood booth and had crab cakes for lunch. It wasn’t
exactly Red Lobster, but then again, it didn’t cost an arm and a leg either. I was
pleased I’d been keeping well within the $10 a day we were allowed for food.
Toby was goofing around. He made both Krista and me laugh, but, for the
moment, I wished he wasn’t there. I was nervous enough as it was without him to
watch me. Finally, I took the plunge.
“Krista, I was wondering…it’s okay if you’re not interested, but I was thinking
that, maybe, we could, like, go out and eat sometime…like now…only…ah,
man. Will you go out with me?”
Mark A. Roeder
45
Krista grinned and I think she was trying to keep from laughing, but I wasn’t
sure. I know my face turned red and I felt like an inept fool—that is, until she
said, “Yes, I’d love to go.”
“You would? Really? Tonight? I mean…great!” I hoped the grin on my face
wasn’t too goofy. “Then I’ll meet you when you get off. Okay?”
“Sure. That would be great,” she replied, with a very cute smile.
Toby frowned at me. A look of disappointment and what could’ve been anger
crossed his face, but he quickly recovered. He said he had to talk to personnel
about something and ran off. Did he have an interest in Krista? I’d been worried
about getting to her before some other guy did, but did I cut off Toby? I hoped
he didn’t have feelings for her. We’d become quite a little trio and I didn’t want
anything messing that up. Still, I couldn’t help but be happy. Krista had said yes!
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Krista got off work at 6:30 and I got off about 5:30, so I changed into my
street clothes and headed straight for The Poltergeist. I’d been planning to ride it
after work even if Krista didn’t want to go out. It was my first opportunity to do
so. The line was a bit long, but not too bad. Standing in the line like everyone
else gave me a weird sensation. I didn’t mind. At last I could ride The Poltergeist!
I recognized C.T., who’d worked with me on the Scrambler that morning, but
I didn’t know the other guy and girl who were working. C.T. gave me a smile as
he checked the bar holding me and the girl beside me in place. She grinned at
C.T. nervously, looking much as I felt. My stomach was a bit queasy.
Once the bars were in place, the coaster inched forward, took a sharp turn to
the right, and then began climbing a long, steep incline. The “chink, chink,
chink” of the coaster being pulled upward, going higher and higher, made my
heart race. I felt the sense of panic I always got when beginning the initial ascent.
This was the part where I wished I hadn’t gotten on in the first place, where I
wished I could somehow magically find myself back safe on the ground.
The coaster crested just before the track took a steeply banked turn to the
right and aimed almost straight down. The Poltergeist moved so fast from that
point on I hardly knew which way was up, let alone right and left. I knew it was
supposed to go up to 70 miles per hour, but it felt like we were doing 150. The
twists and turns were amazing. My whole body shifted one way and then
another, my inertia making my body go in one direction while the coaster had
already switched to a different one. I raised my arms into the air and screamed my
head off.
Mark A. Roeder
46
Phantom World shot by in a blur as we zipped around curves, shot down
inclines, and popped over the top of rises. My world was one of quick snap-
shots—water, which must’ve been the lake, food booths, train tracks, the sky and
the ground. It was all rushing by so fast it was as if I were caught in a kaleido-
scope. At the end, we slammed up a short incline, and the coaster braked hard. I
jerked forward, then back. What a rush!
I was giddy with excitement as I walked away from The Poltergeist. I still had a
few minutes before my date with Krista, so I walked around, trying to think of
clever things to say. All the stuff I came up with just sounded stupid, so I decided
I’d try and be myself. We’d already gotten to know each other pretty well, so
there was no use in trying to be someone I wasn’t. I’d just come off looking like a
moron if I tried to be all cool. It would be better for her to discover up front I was
a nerd at heart than to find out later. If I was going to be rejected, I wanted to get
it over with as quickly as possible.
Just a little after 6:30, Krista came out of the employee locker rooms wearing
her black Phantom World shorts with a pale yellow blouse. I thought about sug-
gesting we take a ride on the Water Demon so I could have a shot at seeing
through her shirt, but I pushed that out of my mind. Krista was a real girl, not a
fantasy. I had to train myself not to think like a sex-starved teenager.
“So, where do you feel like eating supper?”
We’d already decided to have our date in the park, since Krista was saving up
money for Veterinarian school and I was helping out Mom with the bills. Food
here was cheap and neither of us had been able to enjoy the park as guests yet.
“I’m kind of in the mood for a hot dog. How about you?”
“Mmm, that sounds good; maybe a chili dog even.”
I wondered if a chili dog was a good idea after I’d mentioned it. If I kissed
her…Yeah, right Orlando. Like you’re gonna get that far tonight.
We ordered our food and took a seat on a bench facing the Splashing Specter.
It was like a regular coaster, but instead of cars, there were these big boat-like
things that held six people. They rode the tracks of the coaster just like the cars
on The Twister, but then they splashed into a channel of water and it was kind of
like a raft ride until it climbed up the tracks again. I wanted to ride it for sure.
I smiled at Krista shyly as we ate our hot dogs and talked. I opted to go ahead
and get the chili dog, with onions no less. I didn’t want to rush things. Okay, I
did want to rush them, but I knew it would be better if I didn’t. Krista smeared a
little mustard on her upper lip and I reached out and wiped it off.
“This place is oddly beautiful,” said Krista. “The theme is spooky, but it’s still
pretty. I like the way they left in the real trees when they put in the creepy ones.”
Mark A. Roeder
47
“Yeah, it’s an odd mix of the macabre and the beautiful, but it works. Hey,
that sounds like a soap opera, The Macabre and the Beautiful.”
Krista laughed. We sat there admiring our surroundings. Just to our right,
across the path, was a little cemetery. It looked real enough I’d be afraid to walk
in it after dark. Just on its edge, close to us, was a giant skull. Its eyes glowed red
every few seconds and it uttered a cackling laugh.
There were lots of people walking by, eating cotton candy, wearing funny hats
and having a blast. It was cool to work in a place where people came to be happy
and it was sure nice to be sitting there with Krista while we weren’t working.
“Did you see all the flowerbeds near the main entrance?” asked Krista.
“Yeah, I love the scent when I walk by there, carnations and roses and all the
rest.”
“Wow, I never knew a guy who could identify flowers.”
I tensed up, but relaxed when I realized it wasn’t some kind of insult.
“I dunno. I’ve always enjoyed flowers. They make me feel kind of peaceful.
They’re so beautiful and smell so good. You smell really good, too,” I said, hop-
ing I didn’t sound corny.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, did you know there’s one old guy who oversees all the flowers and land-
scaping. He’s about eighty, and he spends his whole day tending the flowers and
plants here. I’ve talked to him. His name is Mr. Meadows. He’s the sweetest old
man I’ve ever met. You want to meet him?”
It wasn’t quite what I’d planned for our first date, but I said, “Sure, why not?”
Anything to please you, babe.
We finished our supper and went in search of Mr. Meadows. We found him
weeding a raised bed of pink flowers, the kind that Mom sometimes had in pots
on the front porch. Strings of white lights overhead provided plenty of illumina-
tion for weeding, even though night was coming.
“Hello, Mr. Meadows.”
“Krista! I’m delighted to see you.” The old man smiled. He had the kindest
face with all these little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
“This is my friend, Orlando.”
“Nice to meet you, young man,” said Mr. Meadows, shaking my hand. He
had quite a grip for an old guy.
“It’s very nice to meet you, too, sir.” I smiled at him. It was nearly impossible
not to do so. He gave off an aura of friendliness and kindness.
“What are those?” I asked, pointing to the pink flowers he was tending.
“Geraniums.”
Mark A. Roeder
48
“Oh, yes, that’s right,” I said. “My Mom has a couple of those, but they aren’t
nearly as big or beautiful as these.”
“They probably need a little plant food. I’ll get you some to take home.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but you don’t have to bother.”
“It’s no bother. I need to be feeding the sweet peas up there anyway,” he said,
pointing up the path.
We followed Mr. Meadows across the park, nearly to the northern edge and
he led us through a gate that had a sign reading “Employees Only” on it. There
was a massive greenhouse just beyond the fence. It was visible over the fence from
the public part of the park, but I’d never noticed it before. Of course, there were
likely many things I hadn’t noticed yet.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” said Mr. Meadows as he led us inside.
The atmosphere was warm and humid and the scent of flowers and earth hung
heavy in the air. There were several long, low tables filled with trays and potted
plants of all types and sizes. There were tiny seedlings, just barely peaking out of
the soil, dozens upon dozens of growing plants, and huge tropical looking plants
that made parts of the greenhouse look like a jungle. There were flowers every-
where, in bright yellows, reds, blues, purples, pinks and every other color and
shade imaginable.
“She sure is beautiful,” I said. “I had no idea this was here.”
“Oh yes, been here for years. I was just starting when they built it in the 40s.”
“You’ve worked here all that time?” I asked.
“Yes, it’ll be sixty years next month.”
“Do you do all the planting in the park by yourself?” I asked. It seemed impos-
sible.
“Yes, I tend all the plants. Maintenance does help me move some of the larger
ones. Some of the potted trees, such as the orange trees, weigh a few hundred
pounds, including the soil. They have to be kept indoors in the winter.”
I looked around. I loved the greenhouse. Being surrounded by all the flowers
and breathing in the moist, pleasantly scented air made me feel like I was in some
kind of paradise. Mr. Meadows gazed at me approvingly.
“Do you have time to show us around some more?” asked Krista.
“Certainly, my dear.”
We spent most of the next hour in the greenhouse, Mr. Meadows proudly
showing off his work. Everywhere we looked there was something beautiful to
see. I especially liked all the different colors of roses that Mr. Meadows was grow-
ing. The reds and pinks were beautiful, but I liked the ones with yellow tinted
with pink at the edges the best.
Mark A. Roeder
49
After a while, I looked down and realized I was holding Krista’s hand. I
couldn’t remember when I’d taken her hand in mine, but it was there. A happy
feeling welled up in my chest.
“You’re like an artist, but with living plants instead of paints and canvas,” I
said after a long while. Mr. Meadows was showing us his collection of cacti and
succulents.
“I don’t know about that. Mother Nature takes care of most of it,” said Mr.
Meadows, but I could tell he was pleased I admired his work.
As we left, Mr. Meadows gave me a bag of plant food for my mother. He said
it was a special blend he mixed himself. Krista wandered outside as I listened
carefully to his instructions. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, Mr. Meadows cut a
long stemmed rose for me, one of the yellow ones with pink I’d been admiring. “I
thought you might like to give this to Krista,” he said. “You come and visit me
any time you want, son.” I smiled and thanked him for everything.
Back outside, I handed Krista the rose. She smiled sweetly and kissed me on
the cheek. I thought I just might explode with happiness.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I answered the knock at the front door, fearing it was Gene again. I didn’t
know if I could face another supper with him and Mom.
“Hey, dude, let’s go somewhere.” It was Eddie.
I yelled to Mom I was going out and followed Eddie to his car, a broken down
’79 Cutlass Supreme that still ran most of the time, despite having over 200,000
miles on it. That old car had taken us on lots of adventures.
The somewhere we were going turned out to be The Grove, the local make-out
spot, also used by those like Eddie who came there to smoke pot. Eddie parked
the car in the clearing and got out. He hopped up on the hood and pulled a joint
out of his pocket and lit up.
He sucked in, held in the sweet smelling smoke, and then blew it out in my
direction. I was a big, second-hand pot smoker. That’s what Eddie said anyway.
He was right. Every time he smoked, I ended up with a little buzz without even
trying.
“You think I’m good lookin’, Orlando?”
“Why, you want me to ask you out or something?”
“No, fag, just…I’ve been hanging with Beth Harkins and, like, I wanna ask
her out, but I don’t know if I should.”
Mark A. Roeder
50
“Beth, huh? It looks like both of us may have found someone.” I proceeded to
tell Eddie all about Krista.
“She sounds hot, man, but, back to my question.”
I looked Eddie over. He was just a bit shorter than I was: slim, with long, dark
blond hair he wore in a pony-tail. He wasn’t built or cute, but I guessed I could
see where a girl might go for him. He wasn’t ugly and I guess he did have kinda
cool eyes.
“Yeah, you’re kind of good looking, in a way. I doubt Beth would kick you
out of bed. If you smiled more it would help.”
Eddie tried a grin on for size.
“Yeah, that’s it, give her a smile. It’ll work.” He looked almost cute when he
grinned.
“She drives me crazy, man. You know I haven’t had any since Tara moved
away.”
“Well, at least you’ve had some.”
“You poor little virgin,” said Eddie.
“Shut up!”
Eddie laughed. “Come on, let’s drive around.”
I thought about mentioning he might have more of a chance at Beth if he got
some clothes that didn’t look quite so…used. I knew he didn’t have much
money, though, even less than I did. Besides, if she was going to like him, she
needed to like the real Eddie, not some fake.
“How you like working at Marathon?” I asked.
“It’s okay. I tried to get a job at Edna’s, but she wanted me to cut my hair and
I said ‘No way!’”
Eddie had a thing about his hair. He always wore it long and usually in a
ponytail. Sometimes at school, when he got pissed off, he’d undo his ponytail
and let his hair completely cover his face. He could sit there in class and kinda
wall himself off from the world. It was like he carried around his own privacy
screen all the time. I thought his hair was cool, but that he needed to wash it
more often. Sometimes, he let it go a few days without shampooing and it looked
a little oily. I didn’t say anything, though, because, well, what did it matter?
We cruised around for quite a while. It was tradition. Eddie and I had some of
our best talks while just driving around. Most of our talks weren’t serious, but
you didn’t have to be discussing something earth shattering for it to matter. I
grinned.
“What?” asked Eddie, as if I was laughing at him.
Mark A. Roeder
51
“I was just thinking about all the stuff we’ve talked about: our deep discus-
sions on the nature of time, the philosophy of auto mechanics, and whether
McDonalds or Burger King has the best burgers.”
“The Whopper kicks the Big Mac’s ass, man!” said Eddie loudly, drumming
on his steering wheel for emphasis. “Although Wendy’s has those 99 cent bacon
cheese burgers. It’s hard to beat that.”
“You’re comparing one of those little burgers with Big Macs and Whoppers?”
“Hey, they’re 99 cents. Yeah, they’re smaller, but they’re like half the price of
the others.”
“Okay, who has the best ice cream?”
“Dairy Queen, hands down, although the crew they’ve got working in there
now is sooo slow. I thought my hair was gonna turn gray before I got my shake
the last time I was in there.”
I laughed. “Yeah, someone should take it over and start a new advertising
campaign: ‘Now Introducing Same Day Service’.”
“Yeah man, right now they have three speeds—slow, very slow, and stop.”
Eddie began laughing. Sometimes he cracked himself up. The thing was his laugh
was so infectious I always ended up laughing too.
We drove by Phantom World. I could see the tops of the roller coasters in the
distance.
“How you like working there?” asked Eddie.
“I love it.”
“Do you really love it or do you just think you do because that babe you were
telling me about works there too?”
“Both.”
“So, have you met that pop-star guy who owns the place?” asked Eddie. He
began to sing, “Mmmbop do do do mmmbop.”
“That’s Hanson, dufus. Jordan’s with Phantom and, no, I haven’t met him. I
don’t know if I ever will. It’s not like he’s going to just be hanging around the
park.”
“Well, hell, I would if I owned it.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have anything better to do.”
Eddie just shook his head and laughed. “That’s the way, uh huh, uh huh, I
like it!”
We cruised around some more and then Eddie took me home. As I got out of
the car, I thought about what’d gone through my mind earlier. Maybe I
shouldn’t keep my mouth shut, if speaking up would help Eddie. I stuck my head
Mark A. Roeder
52
back in the window and said, “Before you ask Beth out, you should shampoo
your hair. You’ve got really cool hair, but girls will like it better if it’s all clean.”
“Gotcha,” said Eddie and took off.
- 53 -
Toby
I lay on the couch, resting my feet from a not-so-hard day at work. My legs had
an almost pleasant ache in them and I felt a little sleepy. I was watching Designing
Women on Lifetime. Television for women. Did they have to say that during every
commercial break? Anyway, Suzanne always cracks me up, like when she says, “If
history is going to repeat itself, then why should I pay attention the first time?”
And then there’s Charlene, who reminds me of my cousin Stacey, only I’d never
tell Stacey that, ’cause she might get mad. Not that there’s anything wrong with
Charlene; I love her. I get a kick out of how she talks about her family back home
in hick country, which could almost be where I live. It seems the same anyway,
even though I’m in Indiana, instead of Missouri or Arkansas or wherever she’s
from. Bernice cracks me up too, like the time she wore a Christmas-tree skirt for
a real skirt. And then Mary Jo tells her it’s a Christmas-tree skirt and Bernice says,
“Well, no wonder. I like to never got this thing on.” I ’bout fell off the couch the
first time I saw that.
A commercial came on for Kotex Tampons, driving me temporarily out of the
room and toward the kitchen. I grabbed an Almond Snickers and thought about
my new job. Working at Phantom World wasn’t all fun and games, but I found
myself looking forward to work. I was making a lot of money, too, more than I
ever had before. That was just the icing on the cake.
I was bummed out about Orlando. He was way cute and I’d been thinking
he’d make a good boyfriend, but he was getting real chummy with Krista. Not
only that, he’d asked her out on a date and she’d said yes. Maybe it was just a
friend-type date, but there was something in his eyes as he looked at Krista—and
Mark A. Roeder
54
especially when she’d given him her answer. I don’t think he would’ve been that
pleased if he was asking her out as a friend.
Maybe he was gay and was just trying to cover up. That was a possibility, but I
felt like I was grasping at straws when I considered it. There were other fish in the
sea, but I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Orlando was sooo cute. He was real
nice, too. I guessed I’d have to give up fantasizing about us walking and holding
hands and hugging and making out. I sighed. Why couldn’t life be like TV,
where everything worked out? Then again, gay boys got their butts kicked on TV
a lot, so maybe I was just as well off with reality.
I thought about the boy I met online. I couldn’t believe he was into Phantom
like I was. Well, he wasn’t as big a fan as I, but he liked ’em and that was some-
thing. Most of the boys at school didn’t; at least they said they didn’t. I’d even
seen a couple of Phantom Sucks t-shirts on guys from school. I wondered if some
of the other boys secretly listened to them. Since Jordan was out, I think a lot of
guys were kinda afraid to let anyone know they were into Phantom. It was like
they feared others would think they were gay if they admitted to liking their
music too much. I didn’t exactly go around announcing it myself, but all anyone
had to do is ask and I’d tell ’em that Phantom rocked! I even had a picture of the
Jordan, Kieran and Ross taped to the back of my locker. I’d ripped it from Rolling
Stone when they were on the cover.
I wondered what Jockboy looked like. He’d described himself, but height,
weight and hair color only told me so much. It didn’t tell me anything about his
face. I hoped he was good lookin’, although if he was cool that wouldn’t matter
so much. I’d be happy with an ordinary, nice guy for a boyfriend, especially if he
was a good kisser. He didn’t have to be hot—not that I’d turn down a hot guy if
I got a chance at one.
Thinking of hot guys brought me back to thinking about Orlando again. I
didn’t want to think about him anymore. It was depressing me. I returned to the
TV, but Designing Women was over. Golden Girls was on, but I’d already seen
that episode about a hundred times, so I walked over to the computer and got on
the internet to distract myself. Mackenzie was gone, probably terrorizing the
neighborhood with his new friend, Billy. Now there was a match made in hell.
Mom and Dad were home, but Dad was in the kitchen working on something
for the office and Mom was doing the laundry. They weren’t too nosy about what
I did on the internet anyway. Unless they actually walked behind the desk and sat
beside me, they couldn’t tell what I was doing. If they made for the computer, I
could just shut the browser. I always made sure I had a browser open to eBay or
some Phantom site or something when I was chatting on Gay.com, or checking
Mark A. Roeder
55
out shirtless guys in a Yahoo group. That way, I could close the gay sites fast and
make it look like I was just innocently surfing.
Jockboy wasn’t on when I got into the Indiana room, but he showed up about
twenty minutes later. I was pleased when he pvt’ed me before I had a chance to
send him a message.
“Hiya, what’s up?”
“I just got on here looking for you,” I typed.
“Cool.”
“Hey, what’s your name? I never asked.”
There was a long pause.
“I don’t like givin’ out my real name on here, but sometimes my friends call
me Spike, ’cause of my hair.”
“I’m Toby,” I typed. I considered giving Spike a different name, but I didn’t
have a nickname like he did.
“Cool name.”
“Thanks.”
“You have a pic of you, Toby?”
“Um, no, but maybe I can get one. You have one of you?”
“Yeah, but I’m a little scared about sending it, until I’m more sure, you know?
When you get one and send it to me, I’ll send you back mine. Okay?”
“I guess that’s okay.”
“Don’t get mad. It’s just that I don’t want any of the guys at school to, you
know, find out about me.”
“It’s cool.”
Actually, I was kind of glad he was hesitant to send his picture. There were all
kinds of fakes on the internet, and his reluctance made me feel more confident he
was the real thing.
“Sweet. So, um, have you ever done anything with a guy?” asked Spike.
“Nope. You?”
“Not yet. It’s kinda hard, you know?”
“Tell me about it!”
Spike and I kept chatting. His nickname didn’t seem to fit him all that well.
He just didn’t seem like a Spike to me. Of course, he said it was because of his
hair, so if I saw a picture of him, it would probably make sense. I was thinking
about taking a photo of myself to send him soon. Dad had a digital camera. I was
a little scared about sending out a picture of me. I’d never done it before. Spike
seemed pretty cool, though. I didn’t think he was some ax murderer or anything
Mark A. Roeder
56
like that. Besides, I was eager to see what Spike looked like, and sending him my
pic was the only way to get his in return.
A thought crossed my mind—dark spiky hair. From the description, Spike
sounded almost like Orlando. Wouldn’t that be a shock? The odds were not good
on that one, though, especially after what I’d seen when Krista said she’d go out
with him. Still, you never know. It made me more eager than ever to get a look at
Spike.
I looked up at the clock when we’d been chatting for what seemed like twenty
minutes and it was nearly midnight. I’d been talking to Spike for almost two
hours “Damn, I’ve gotta go!” I typed.
“Awww. Okay,” typed Spike. “Hey, can I have your e-mail? We can set up a
time to chat soon, or just write each other.”
I smiled and exchanged e-mail addresses with Spike. Things weren’t working
out so well with Orlando, but I liked where they were going with Spike. I was
excited by the possibilities.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I began my morning at Phantom World with a shift on the Ghost Pirates raft
ride with C.T. It was a pretty simple job. Mainly, we just loaded people on four
at a time and made sure no one was goofing around. I really liked C.T. The way
his straight, blond bangs were always falling down in his eyes was so sexy. Com-
pared to Orlando and to the way I’d pictured Spike, he wasn’t very built. He had
some muscle, but he had this soft look to him—almost girlish in a way, but yet
not really. He wasn’t fat or skinny, just somewhere in between. He reminded me
a little of a teddy bear. I wanted to hug him.
C.T. and I were getting along pretty well. He hadn’t spoken much the first
time we’d worked together or the few times our paths had crossed since then, but
he was beginning to open up. His voice was velvety—soft and quiet, so that I had
to listen carefully when he spoke. He smiled shyly as he talked, often lowering his
eyes. I wondered if he knew how incredibly cute and cuddly that made him
appear. When he lowered his eyes like that, and then looked back up at me, it just
kinda made me melt.
It was funny how he managed to look up at me, since he was taller. I guess it
was the way he held his head when he did it, kind of tucked in toward his chest or
shoulder. When he looked at me like that, it made me want to protect him. I
wanted to hold him and comfort him when he cried, although I’d never seen him
cry. C.T. was about the happiest person I’d ever come across.
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57
C.T. livened up when I told him I was into theatre. I soon learned I was an
amateur in comparison to him. C.T. had seen about every Broadway show there
ever was, apparently. That’s what he spent his money on, going to shows when
they came to Evansville or Indianapolis. He’d even been to Broadway itself with
his mother. They’d seen The Lion King and three or four others while they were
in New York.
“Wow,” I said. “I haven’t seen that many shows. Mom let me see Rent when it
came to Louisville. She dropped me off and went shopping.”
“Oh, that’s a great show! I saw it in Louisville, too. There was only one show
so we must’ve been there at the same time.”
“Aw, I wish I’d have known you then. It would’ve been a lot more fun going
with you instead of sitting there by myself.”
“Maybe we can go to a show sometime. We’ll have to see what’s coming up.”
“Really?” I asked, with far too much enthusiasm. I quickly toned it down. “I
mean, cool.”
C.T. grinned at me. I gazed at his full lips, wondering what it would be like to
kiss them. I had to snap myself out of it before he caught me staring.
We kept up a running conversation with each other and with people waiting
in line. One of the things I liked about working at Phantom World was that most
people were really nice. They could get a bit impatient or surly if the lines were
long, but mostly they were friendly. They were in an amusement park after all. I
guess working at Phantom World was kind of the opposite of working at the
Department of Motor Vehicles or someplace like that. The park was all about
fun.
C.T. and I looked out over the ride as we talked. From our vantage point, we
could see a good deal of it. The log rafts followed a stream that was just a little
wider than they were. The stream twisted and turned, going slowly under gnarled
trees, past bubbling springs of mud, giant spiders that threateningly reared up
and other spooky stuff. I liked the pirate’s hideout—an old ramshackle house
that looked as if pirates could come running out of it at any second. My favorite
part of the ride was the big pirate ship that sat off to one side of the stream. It was
full-sized and looked seaworthy. It had a giant skull and crossbones sail. Pirate
music was playing the whole time, making me feel as if I was half in and half out
of some distant time. The entrance to the ride was like a portal that transported
guests into the past. Ghost Pirates was another ride I definitely wanted to check
out when I had some free time.
“Have you been in many shows?” I asked C.T.
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58
He rattled off an impressive list of them. I hadn’t been in nearly that many
and most of parts I’d had were just in plays, not musicals, except for a couple.
“I had the lead in Oliver in the spring play at school and I played Tom in the
musical version of Tom Sawyer last fall,” I said.
“I bet you made a good Tom,” said C.T.
“I was okay.”
“You even look a little like Tom Sawyer.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“It’s a compliment. You have sort of an innocent, yet mischievous look to
you.”
“Mischievous? Me?” Mackenzie had been described that way more times than
I could count. But me?
“Yeah, you’ve got a kind of fire inside that shows through your eyes.”
No one had ever seen that within me. I wasn’t so sure it was there, but I liked
C.T. saying it was, anyway. I liked a lot of things about C.T.
- 59 -
Mackenzie
I didn’t say anything as Billy and I stood on the shoulder of the highway, but I
was thinking: Billy, I don’t know about this. I knew what he’d say: Dude, chill, no
one’s gonna know. It’ll be fun. Don’t be a wuss. Your family’s already got one of those.
A small laugh escaped from my lips. Billy eyed me, but didn’t ask what I was
laughing about.
“What if some wacko picks us up—some child molester or killer or some-
thing?” I asked, knowing I should’ve probably kept that question in my head,
too. I couldn’t help myself, though. Billy had his thumb out, trying to hitch us a
ride out of “Hicksville” to Evansville.
“Dude, you’ve been watchin’ too many after school specials. Only, like, one
out of a hundred people is a killer, or somethin’ like that. You worry too much.”
Yeah, but what if the one out of a hundred is the one who gives us a ride, I
thought to myself. I tried not to say certain things out loud to Billy. I didn’t want
him to think of me as some scared little kid. We were the same age, but he knew
things about the world. He’d been out there. He’d even run away once, all the
way to Florida, when he was fourteen, just the year before. At least that’s what he
said. I figured it was true because I remembered him being missing from school
for three whole weeks. That was probably when he went south.
“What if my parents find out?” I said, forgetting to keep the question in my
head.
“They’ll never know. They think you’re at my house. Dad never answers the
phone in case it’s bill collectors. Just chill and enjoy, Mackenzie. We’re gonna
have a good time.”
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60
I smiled. Being with Billy was an adventure. I was quickly learning to just fol-
low along. Billy liked to lead, and, so far, I’d liked where he’d led me. I wished I’d
tried to become friends with him before. I remembered when I first saw him at
school; we were both thirteen, but even then he seemed much older. One look at
him told me he was a bad ass—scuffed black leather jacket, rumpled t-shirt, worn
jeans and just about worn-out sneakers. Billy had a look that just screamed, What
are you lookin’ at? I don’t give a fuck what you think! The moment I set eyes on
him I knew I wanted him as a friend. Billy was cool. I wanted to be like him.
Unfortunately, it had taken me two whole years to work up the courage to
approach him.
An old, beat-up van slowed and then pulled over to the side of the road in a
cloud of dust. Billy ran up to the passenger side and yanked open the door. Billy
always charged right in without any thought for his own safety.
“We’re going to Evansville,” he said, almost as if it were a command. I hadn’t
caught up enough to hear what the driver said, but Billy hopped in and then
pulled me in after him. I shut the door and the van took off.
I reached for the seatbelt, but thought better of it. Instead, I looked at the
driver and immediately wished I hadn’t. He was old—probably mid-30s. His face
was scarred like he’d had bad acne when he was a kid. He was thin and, if he’d
had an eye patch, he would’ve made a good pirate. I was glad Billy was sitting
between us.
“So you boys are heading out for the big city, huh?”
“It’s not a big city, more like a town. Indy’s a city, barely. New York’s a big
city.”
The driver looked at Billy out of the corner of his eye. I wished Billy would be
more agreeable. I was afraid the driver would kick us out. Then again, maybe that
wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. I was so nervous I was trembling.
“I’m Evan,” said Billy, “Evan McCloud and this is my friend Irving.”
Irving? Couldn’t he pick a better name than that? I did admire his ability to lie
so easily and convincingly.
“I’m Bob,” said the driver.
Billy seemed completely at ease, but I was a little freaked out. All these horri-
ble fantasies kept entering my head—Bob driving us to some remote area and
then stabbing us to death with a rusty knife, Bob forcing us into the back of the
van and then raping us, Bob ramming the van into a telephone pole full speed to
kill us all, Bob dining on our livers later that night. I was glad Billy was there. I
felt at least a little safer with him.
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61
I didn’t like the way Bob looked at me, like he was hungry or something.
Maybe he’s like Hannibal Lector, I thought, or maybe it’s a different kind of hungry.
I felt a little sick. I wanted out of the van, but was too afraid to say so. I didn’t
want Billy to think I was a wuss, and I half-feared that Bob would just laugh and
keep on driving if I asked him to let me out. That would’ve been much worse
than just thinking he wouldn’t let us go.
The miles passed with Billy, a.k.a. Evan, talking with Bob. I sat there quietly,
only half-hearing what they were saying. Now and then scraps of their conversa-
tion made it into my head: The Kentucky basketball team cheated their way to
victory over I.U., the entire Middle East should be nuked, the tax on cigarettes
was unconstitutional. Most of their words didn’t make it through the haze of
excitement and fear that surrounded me, but the next ones out of Billy’s mouth
sure did.
“Dude, you can move your fuckin’ hand or I can break your wrist.”
I jerked my head to the side at Billy’s words. Bob had his hand on Billy’s inner
thigh, halfway toward his crotch. Billy was staring him down, looking as if he’d
fuck him up if he made a wrong move.
“You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” laughed Bob.
“I picked it up from my dad. He’s a cop,” said Billy.
A flicker of fear passed over Bob’s features. Billy was slick. I was safer when I
was with him. He knew how to handle things. Bob removed his hand from Billy’s
thigh, and they went back to talking like nothing at all had happened. I swal-
lowed hard and looked out the window, watching the scenery pass.
Bob drove us through most of Evansville and then let us out downtown on the
riverfront. We strolled along the walkway, looking out at the muddy water of the
Ohio. A tugboat was pushing barges upstream and a few motorboats were speed-
ing along. Someone was even water skiing. The sky was clear and the sun hot.
Billy pulled off his shirt and I followed his example. We skipped rocks over the
surface of the water and explored the walkway.
We walked past the Casino Aztar, a big gambling boat that sometimes went
out on the river. There was a steady stream of people crossing an enclosed walk-
way that went across the highway into the casino building—people with more
money than sense, people who thought they’d actually make money gambling. I
didn’t even care that we weren’t old enough to get in. I wasn’t going to poke my
money in some stupid machine, unless it was to play a video game.
We walked on, down past the museum. There was an old train on display out-
side. It looked like the kind of thing Toby would like. My brother was such an
alien. I marveled that we had the same parents. I wondered if he’d been secretly
Mark A. Roeder
62
adopted or something before I was born, or maybe it was me who was adopted.
Maybe I was really Billy’s brother and just didn’t know it. That would’ve been
cool, except I didn’t like his dad. He was scary.
“Your dad’s not really a cop, right?” I asked.
“No,” said Billy laughing. “I just told that creep that to get him off me.”
“I thought so. That was a smart move.”
“You just gotta know how to handle people. Dad taught me that.”
“I think I’d have crapped my pants if he’d put his hand on my leg.”
“Yeah, well, if you act scared in a situation like that, you’re screwed, but if you
act tough, you’re way more likely to get out of it.”
“Has that kind of thing happened to you before?”
“Yeah. Not often, though. I hitchhike, and most people who give you a ride
are just bein’ nice. Like I said, only like one in a hundred are freaks or whatever.
This one lady gave me a ride and she put her hand on my leg, too.”
“What’d you do?”
“I spread ’em wider so she could have a feel!”
“Really?”
“Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya, man.”
I laughed and Billy did, too. Sometimes, I wasn’t quite sure when to take him
seriously.
Billy and I found a grassy spot and lay basking in the sun. I liked hanging out
with Billy. He was a real guy’s guy. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and
he didn’t give a damn about what others thought or about the consequences. I
wished I could be as carefree as he is. He lay beside me just watching boats pass,
as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I, on the other hand, was worried about
whether or not we’d be able to find a ride home, if my parents would find out
what I’d done and what they’d do to me if they did find out.
I closed my eyes and tried to be like Billy. I tried to clear my thoughts and just
feel the breeze on my face and the sun on my bare chest. I managed to daydream
about Billy and me living free from school, parents, and all the other crap of
everyday life. Perhaps we’d live on an island somewhere or in a remote wilderness
where no one else dared to walk. We’d spend our days hunting, fishing, wres-
tling, swimming and just doing what we damn well pleased.
“You ever think about just running away?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Billy. “I plan on it someday. If the old man gets too rough, I’ll
split. If it’s cold, I’ll head out for Florida or California or someplace warm like
that.”
Mark A. Roeder
63
“How would you live? How would you get money for food and stuff like
that?”
“Do some odd jobs—just work my way from one place to another, or there’s
always…” Billy made a motion as if to unbutton his jeans. I swallowed hard.
“You’d really do that, sell your body?”
Billy laughed. “I’m just kiddin’ you, man. That’d be just too gross. Now, if a
girl like Becky Wayne wanted to pay me…” Billy rubbed his crotch, which
seemed to be getting bigger. He kept it up for a bit and then stopped, as if just
realizing I was there.
“Maybe you should try paying her,” I said, giggling. Billy punched me in the
shoulder. It actually hurt a little, but I didn’t let on.
“Come on,” he said, getting up.
We strolled along the sidewalk. Well, I strolled, Billy kinda strutted. He had
excess attitude, but that was one thing that was so cool about him. A couple of
middle-aged women were approaching us and kind of looking us over. Billy
flexed his muscles and said, “Yeah! You want some, don’t ya?” They hurried on
past us.
“I bet they did,” said Billy, looking back. “Did you see them look at us?”
“Yeah, but they were old.”
“They weren’t that old. Besides, I hear the older ones are good. They get kind
of desperate after a certain age.”
I shrugged. I had no idea.
“Man, it’s so freaky your brother is queer. He ever check you out or any-
thing?”
“No.”
“Well, I’d watch myself if I were you. You never know about someone like
that. You could wake up with somethin’ sticking in your butt.”
“Eww, don’t say that!”
“Well, it’s good he’s a homo in one way.”
“How?”
“Well, you’ve got four people in your family right?”
“Yep.”
“So, only one out of ten is queer, so I don’t have to have any worries about
you. You’re family’s already 25% queer, so there’s no way you can be queer, too.
I don’t have to worry about you trying to touch my ass or something.”
I laughed. “Yeah, don’t lose any sleep over that one.”
We wandered around the downtown area for a while. Parts of it were dirty
and deserted, while other parts had been fixed up real nice. I’d never been there
Mark A. Roeder
64
before. We always went to Eastland Mall and all those places on Green River
Road, way over on the other side of town.
We walked back out to the street near the river, and Billy stuck his thumb out.
We had a ride in no time at all—this time with a college-aged girl who wasn’t a
bad looker. She was headed for Highway 41 and then on toward Princeton. It
wasn’t quite our direction, but it would put us closer to home.
Billy flirted with the girl. Mandy was her name. I couldn’t believe she flirted
back at him. I also couldn’t believe what she was driving—a practically new red
Corvette convertible. It was one sweet car.
Billy kept it up with Mandy. He was riding in the front seat with her, and I
was in the back. I couldn’t believe she didn’t say something to him like, “Dream
on, boy,” or “You wish” or something like that. Billy told her how pretty she was
and I silently agreed with him—blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs. What was not
to like? I think she liked the compliments. Billy meant ’em, I could tell, but I’m
sure he’d have said the same even if he didn’t think she was so hot. It was fun to
see him operate, even though he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with her.
Mandy was probably twenty-one or so. What would she want with a fif-
teen-year-old boy?
I figured Billy was gonna get us kicked out of the car when he suggested
Mandy pull off onto a side road so they could make out. I wasn’t as nervous as
when we rode with Bob, though. Perhaps I was getting braver, or maybe it was
because I really doubted Mandy could be some kind of psycho. She sure looked
normal enough, where Bob kinda looked like that guy who ate boys and kept
their body parts in his ‘fridge.
Mandy did pull off onto a side road after a while. I’d have bet my eye teeth we
were about to be dumped like a couple of stray dogs, but she drove on down the
crumbling asphalt road until she came to an abandoned drive that now led to
nothing. She pulled the car up into it until it was mostly hidden in the trees.
Across the road, there was nothing but a field where corn was beginning to grow.
I began to second guess myself on whether or not she was a psycho. There were
two of us and only one of her, but she looked pretty strong. I hated to admit it,
but she could probably kick our butts. Now wouldn’t that be embarrassing?
We got out of the car, but Mandy pulled Billy into the back seat and started
making out with him. My mouth dropped open. If I wasn’t there to see it, I
wouldn’t have believed it. I wouldn’t have been more surprised if she’d pulled a
knife on us and told us she was having out livers for dinner.
I wasn’t so sure about Billy’s story about doing it with Cindy Erickson, but
there was no doubt he was making out with Mandy. It was happening before my
Mark A. Roeder
65
very eyes. I even closed and reopened them a couple of times, but I wasn’t hallu-
cinating.
Mandy looked up at me over Billy’s shoulder and patted the seat on the other
side of her. I swallowed hard and walked around the car, wondering how I was
going to disguise the huge bulge in the front of my jeans. I rearranged my shirt so
that it was hanging from the front of my jeans, instead of the side. My mind was
spinning. Was this real, and how far was it going to go? I had a sneaking suspi-
cion I was dreaming, but it all seemed real enough. Weren’t dreams supposed to
be kind of sketchy, jumping around in time as they did? This wasn’t like that at
all.
I climbed into the back seat and Mandy turned toward me. Billy smiled at me
over her shoulder and arched his eyebrows as if to say, “Fuck, yeah!”
“You’re such a cutie,” said Mandy, just before she pressed her lips to mine.
I’d never been kissed before. I had no idea how it was done, so I let Mandy
guide me. I rubbed my lips along hers and opened my mouth a little when she
did. I felt her tongue slip inside my mouth and I put mine in hers. I closed my
eyes and just melted into what was going on. It was incredible! My heart was
beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode, and more astonishing things
were going on in my pants. If making out was this intense, I wondered what sex
would be like.
Mandy pulled back and gazed at me, mussing my hair and smiling. She sat
back in the seat and extended one hand toward me and the other toward Billy.
She rubbed her hands on our bare chests. “You two are so hot,” she said. I swelled
with pride. A college babe thought I was hot!
Mandy and Billy started making out again, but I didn’t feel too left out. My
mind was reeling. In moments, Mandy was kissing me again. If this was what it
was like with a girl, I had to find a girlfriend, and fast!
I watched with fascination as Billy made a move for Mandy’s shirt and tried to
pull it up, but she stopped him. “If you want my shirt off, you’re gonna have to
give me something in return.”
“Anything,” said Billy, as if he were under some kind of spell. I bet he’d have
handed over $500 if he had it.
“Let me see you two kiss.”
“What?” I cried out, surprised.
“Oh, come on,” said Mandy. “Guys get off on seeing two girls make out.
Why’s it so surprising that a girl would like to see two boys do it?”
“I’m NOT doin’ it. No way!” I said.
“Don’t be so uptight, man,” said Billy.
Mark A. Roeder
66
“Dude!” I couldn’t believe my ears. I think Billy really was under some kind of
spell.
“Come on,” he said, widening his eyes and motioning with his head toward
Mandy. The boy was desperate to see Mandy with her shirt off.
“No,” I said, folding my arms. I meant it, too. Mandy was hot, but it just
wasn’t worth it.
“Mackenzie, come on, it’s not like you have to blow me. It’s just kissing. You
kiss your dad, don’t you?”
“Not on the lips!”
Billy’s eyes were pleading with me. My mind raced. Would he call me a cow-
ard later if I didn’t give in? Would he accuse me of ruining things with Mandy
and hate me for the rest of his life? After a few more agonizing moments, I caved.
“Okay,” I said, “but not for long!” I can’t believe I’m doing this, I thought to
myself.
Mandy smiled. We all got out of the car. Mandy leaned against the side of her
convertible while she watched Billy and me standing there. I’d never felt so awk-
ward in all my life.
“Come on, get closer,” she said, leaning up and pushing us together. The bare
skin of my torso rubbed against Billy’s for a moment before I pulled back. We
inched in slowly, our lips getting closer and closer for what seemed like ages. I
pecked Billy quickly on the lips and pulled back, looking at Mandy to see if it was
enough. Billy grabbed me by the back of the head, shoved his lips roughly against
mine, and shot his tongue into my mouth. I tried to pull back, but he held onto
me, wiggling his tongue around in my mouth, moving it against my own. Mandy
said, “Mmmmm,” and Billy kept right on kissing me. He was crushed up against
me with one arm holding my face against his and the other wrapped around my
back so I couldn’t escape. Billy was hard. Finally, Billy broke the kiss and I
pushed myself away from him, wiping my lips with my forearm.
“How was that?” asked Billy.
Mandy smiled and slowly pulled her shirt over her head. She was wearing a
bra and she looked fine. I was beginning to think that kissing Billy was worth
what I was getting to see, but I wasn’t sure.
Billy stepped to Mandy and starting necking with her again. He was chewing
on her neck and licking at her chest. He tugged at her bra, but she slapped his
hand away. Apparently, us kissing didn’t earn us a look at her completely topless.
It was kind of a rip off.
I inched closer and Mandy pulled me in and kissed me. She had one arm
around us both, holding us against her and each other. It was weird watching
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67
Billy make out with Mandy from that close up. Our faces were practically touch-
ing.
While Mandy was making out with Billy, she lowered her hand and felt my
butt, and then she brought it around front and grasped me through my jeans. I
thought my eyes were gonna roll back in my head. When she started kissing me
again, she pulled her hand away from my crotch. I didn’t want her to stop what
she was doing, but making out with her was so sexy. I glanced down and saw she
was working Billy’s bulge just like she did mine.
Soon, she was kissing Billy again and her hand was back on my crotch. I
pressed it into her. She was driving me crazy, but I didn’t want it to stop. Sud-
denly, I moaned, and pure ecstasy shot straight through my entire body. Mandy
kept groping me until I was done.
I fell back against the convertible, trying to catch my breath. Mandy and Billy
were making out like crazy and their hands were all over each other. She stuck her
hands right down his pants and in a few moments more he was moaning just like
I had. When he was finished, Mandy gave him one last kiss and told us to get
back in the car.
I was in a state of total shock as we drove back to the highway. I simply
couldn’t believe what had just happened was real. The smile on Billy’s face made
it pretty obvious I wasn’t dreaming, though.
Mandy was really nice to us. She actually drove us all the way home, even
though it was out of her way. Billy tried to get her phone number, but she said
no. Doing what’d she done with us wasn’t strictly legal and making it more than
a one-time thing was too risky for her. I understood, but Billy wasn’t happy
about it at all. She gave him a big, wet kiss, however, and it gave him kind of a
dreamy look that lasted until she’d driven away.
“What do you wanna do now?” I asked when Mandy was gone.
“I just wanna go home and replay this over and over in my mind,” said Billy.
I had no doubt I’d be doing that myself. I had plenty to think about.
- 68 -
Orlando
Dating Krista made me feel as if I was walking on air. At least, I thought we were
dating. After our successful evening together, I’d asked her out again. This time
we were going to the movies. Since both of us needed to keep our spending
down, we were going to meet after work, have supper together in the park, and
then go to Princeton and catch a show. The theatre there was old and it didn’t
have stadium seating or high-tech sound, but it was also about half the price of
the theatres in Evansville. I could hardly tell the difference anyway.
I was kind of nervous all day about our date—mainly because I wanted to ask
Krista to start going with me, as my girlfriend. I wanted to make sure I knew
where we stood. If she just thought of me as a nice guy to go out with, that was
okay, but I wanted more, and I wanted to know one way or another. I just hoped
I wouldn’t make myself look stupid. What if she thought of me as just a friend?
Suppose I’d read something into our time together that just wasn’t there. If that
was the case, then I was going to try and act like it didn’t bother me too much,
even though I thought it just might tear me up inside. I wasn’t in love with Krista
or anything like that, but I really liked her.
I spent part of the day in the Skee-Ball pavilion working with Toby. He
seemed a bit more distant than he had before. Perhaps he just had things on his
mind. He still joked around with me, so I guess everything was still cool between
us. I hoped so. I was beginning to think of Toby as a friend.
I loved Skee-Ball, so working the pavilion was cool. I loved the sound of the
wooden balls as they rolled up the lane and the sounds the machines made as they
counted off points. The machines spit out tickets that guests could trade in for
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69
prizes. At most parks, it took forever to get enough tickets for a prize and the
prizes were kinda cheap. It was different at Phantom World. They had some really
cool stuff and, if you were good at Skee-Ball, it didn’t take that long to get some-
thing good. It was kind of like buying the prize, only you got to play Skee-Ball,
too.
For prizes, we had all the usual things like stuffed animals and funny hats, but
we also had posters of different parts of the park, coupons for free food, and all
kinds of Phantom merchandise like CDs and pictures and stuff.
I liked getting to work in different areas of the park. It would’ve been boring if
I was stuck in the funnel-cake booth or somewhere like that day after day. But
my schedule constantly shifted me around. Depending on how many hours I
worked, I was assigned to anywhere from four to eight different rides and booths.
After working the Skee-Ball pavilion, my next stint was with cleanup, which
meant walking around the park sweeping up litter. Cleanup was probably the
worst job in the park, but I even enjoyed it most of the time. Like all the jobs, it
rotated among the entire staff, so even if I hated it, I wouldn’t have to do it too
often. There really wasn’t that much to sweep up. Most of the guests tossed their
garbage into one of the many trash cans around the park, which were shaped like
ghosts, werewolves, and various other monsters and oddball creatures.
I don’t know if it was because I was eagerly anticipating my date with Krista,
or if it was merely the fine weather and beautiful surroundings, but I was down-
right enjoying my task of sweeping up litter. It was one of those days when the
sky was clear and the warmth of the sun was perfect—luxuriously warm, but not
in the least bit hot. The scent of roses, carnations, petunias, and many other flow-
ers I couldn’t name was carried on the gentle breeze. I was surrounded by laugh-
ter and the screams of those enjoying the more thrilling rides in the park. My
senses seemed more finely tuned than usual. I was keenly aware of all the sights,
sounds and scents around me as I walked about the park—the distant rumble of
The Poltergeist cars careering at high speed, the squeaks of the bumper-car pedals
as guests impatiently waited for the ride to start, the mechanized whir of The
Scrambler, and the rumble and sudden splash as the logs of the Fatal Falls topped
out and were released to fly down a narrow channel into a shallow pool. For a few
minutes, I just closed my eyes and listened. There was a whole world of sounds
and scents surrounding me that I too often ignored.
I spent a good deal of time during my cleanup duty near the Ferris Wheel,
helping Mr. Meadows. He was tending large, raised beds of purple and blue petu-
nias. He carefully pulled each small weed that was attempting to gain a foothold
and pinched off old, dead or dying blooms. I swept up the weeds and shriveled
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70
blooms and carried them away to the Frankenstein trash can that was not far dis-
tant.
“My mom used to garden a lot,” I said. As I spoke, my words and the warm,
sweet scent of the petunias brought back a memory I didn’t know I’d lost. I
smiled.
“What are you thinking?” asked Mr. Meadows.
“I just got this picture in my head,” I said. “I must’ve been real little…Mom
and Dad were working in a flowerbed by the house, our old house. Dad was pull-
ing weeds and Mom was planting flowers—petunias. I was just sitting on the
grass watching them, but sometimes I’d rush over and try to pick the flowers.” I
laughed. “That had to be ages ago, before Dad…left.” I suddenly missed my dad
more than I had in a long time. Part of me hated him for leaving Mom and me,
but sometimes I wondered where he was and if he ever thought about me. “I
wonder why I remembered that just now?”
“Maybe it’s the scent of the petunias. Scent can be a powerful reminder,” said
Mr. Meadows, “Or maybe something else is on your mind.”
He silently tugged weeds from the flowerbed, not pressuring me to say any-
thing I didn’t have a mind to share.
“I really miss my dad,” I said. “He left when I was four. We never got to do
much father/son stuff. I was too young. It used to make me feel like kind of an
outcast, because the other guys had a dad and I didn’t.”
Mr. Meadows stood and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked into his eyes.
They were crinkled into a smile.
“I wish Dad was here so I could talk to him about stuff,” I said.
“Such as?” asked Mr. Meadows.
“Like, well…Krista. I really like her, but I’m not sure how she feels about me.
I mean…we’re good friends now, but I’ve got these other feelings for her. My
chest kind of gets tight around her sometimes and I feel…I dunno…kind of like
a little electrical storm is going through my body. I care about her, you know?
And then there’s…well, she’s way attractive and I, um…well, I’m attracted to
her.” I could feel myself going red. Saying I was attracted to her was putting it
lightly. If I’d said, she sets me on fire with uncontrollable lust, it would’ve come
closer to the truth. I felt like Mr. Meadows somehow knew the real meaning
behind my words. “The thing is, I don’t know how she feels about me. She’s
friendly and all, but are we friends or are we more? How do you tell?”
“Ah, the complications of love,” said Mr. Meadows. “It’s a tricky business, my
boy, but I think your best course is simple honesty. Just tell her how you feel—
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71
reveal your feelings of friendship and your more intimate feelings as well. If
you’re truthful with her, she’ll be truthful with you.”
“And what if she rejects me? What if she doesn’t think of me in that way?”
“Then you’ll know, and you can stop worrying about it. You can try to enjoy
her as a friend. If her feelings for you are deeper than friendship, you’ll know
that, too. Either way, honesty will let you know where you stand.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Mr. Meadows kind of felt like a dad just then, even though he was old enough
to be my grandfather. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel that way about Gene.
If he and Mom kept going together and got married…well, I didn’t know if I’d
like that much. Maybe it would be okay and maybe it wouldn’t. I doubted I’d
ever be able to think of Gene as anything other that just some guy who was dat-
ing my mother.
Mr. Meadows and I worked in silence for a good long time. I enjoyed pluck-
ing weeds and squeezing off the dead blooms, giving the living plants a new grip
on life. There was something comforting and calming about being so in touch
with nature. Guests walked by smiling and laughing as we worked. Their mood
was infectious and I found myself smiling, too, despite my worries over Krista.
Just before I left, Mr. Meadows took my hand and said, “Good luck, Orlando,
and remember this, whatever happens was meant to happen, so try to make the
best of whatever life throws your way.”
I could tell he was talking about more than Krista. I wasn’t accustomed to
hugging strangers, but I wrapped my arms around Mr. Meadows and gave him a
squeeze. He seemed pleased by my display of affection.
I knew baring my heart to Krista wasn’t going to be easy, but at least now I felt
a little better about it and a little more equipped to handle rejection.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
My body felt all shaky, as if I’d gone too long without eating. I knew that
wasn’t the cause, however. It obviously wasn’t lack of food, since Krista and I
were wolfing down excellent pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. No, the reason
my body was out of control was sitting right beside me—Krista.
“Are you okay, Orlando?” she asked.
I looked her in the eyes. “Am I that obvious?”
“You’re all antsy and your eyes keep darting around.”
I had no idea I’d been fidgeting.
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72
“Um, listen, I’ve got something…I, um…well…oh, gee,” I said, burying my
head in my hands for a moment. I looked back at Krista. “I’m not too suave, am
I?”
“You’re cute,” she said, no doubt causing me to go a bit red.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “This is going to torture me until I do it,
so I’m just gonna ask.” I took another deep breath. “I like you, Krista. I like you a
whole lot. If you just want to be friends, that’s okay. But if you’d like to be more
than friends, I’d like that a whole lot better. I don’t know how you feel about me.
If you don’t like me like that, I’ll understand, but…”
My rambling was ended by Krista leaning over and kissing me on the mouth.
A little explosion went off in my head and I felt as if happiness had enveloped me,
like some kind of magical mist permeating my body, penetrating me down to the
atomic level.
Krista leaned back and smiled at me. “Does that answer your question?”
I grinned.
We finished our pizza and walked through the park. I kept my arm around
Krista, holding her close, giddy with the rush of having a girl. I tried to keep my
hormones in check. I wanted us to be about more than physical attraction. It was
going to be an uphill battle, however, as my body had ideas of its own. I won-
dered: Did girls feel the same way? Did they look at guys and think about their
bodies?
“Why don’t you follow me to my house and we can leave your car there,” sug-
gested Krista.
“Actually, it’s mom’s car, but yeah.”
I got in the well-used Neon—127,000 miles and still going strong, mostly—
and followed Krista’s much newer Sunfire. Krista’s home was one of those big,
heavy-looking houses that were built in the 1930s, or 40s, or 50s, or whatever,
with a large, concrete-block front porch. Krista pulled into the drive, and I
parked the Neon out front. I got out and walked across the yard.
“Why don’t you come in for a minute? I’d like to freshen up.”
“Are your parents home?” I asked nervously.
“No, you’re safe.”
I followed her inside and staked out a place on the couch while she ran
upstairs. Krista’s home was much better kept and newer than ours. It was built
decades ago, but it had modern windows, new beige carpeting and nice uphol-
stered furniture. Our house wasn’t falling apart or anything, but it had a more
used look to it. Things were a bit worn at home.
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73
I heard a sound coming from what I assumed was the kitchen and got up. Had
Krista’s parents come home? I hadn’t heard a car. I hoped they hadn’t. I wasn’t
ready to deal with her parents just yet.
A moment later a guy about my age, or maybe a bit older, came through the
door.
“Who are you?” he asked, looking me over like he might be thinking of kick-
ing my ass.
Even though Krista had never mentioned having one, I had little doubt this
was her brother. They looked frighteningly similar. The boy standing before me
in worn jeans and a Motley Crue t-shirt had the same facial features, blond hair
and blue eyes as Krista. His hair was shorter than hers, but still somewhat long,
curling around his ears and down the back of his neck. It was far more unkempt
than Krista’s, kind of wild and untamed, although I guess those are the same
thing.
“I’m, uh, Orlando. I’m going out with Krista.” I stopped just short of saying I
was her boyfriend. It seemed premature for some reason.
“Oh, the ice princess has a boyfriend?”
“Ice princess?” I asked. That didn’t seem to fit Krista.
“Mainly just with me,” he said, smirking.
“What’s your name?” I asked, since he hadn’t volunteered it.
“Kerry. Witty huh? Kerry and Krista—our parents probably stayed up nights
thinking those out.”
Kerry rolled his eyes and then peered at me. I felt uncomfortable, as if he knew
a secret about me. My chest felt kind of tight as I stood there awkwardly, not
knowing quite what to say. A small smile turned up the edges of Kerry’s mouth,
and he moistened his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. Just then, Krista came
downstairs. She spotted her brother and looked at me.
“He didn’t say anything vulgar, did he?” she asked.
“Didn’t have time,” answered Kerry, before I had a chance. “I’ll get around to
it next time, Li’l Sis.”
Krista bristled, but turned her back on Kerry as if she was resisting bait. She
took my upper arm and led me out the door. Kerry watched with interest.
“You didn’t tell me you had a brother,” I said, as we climbed in the car.
“I like to pretend I don’t.”
I laughed.
“He’s not that bad,” said Krista, “but he can be a jerk. The less we see of each
other, the better we get along.”
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74
Our conversation turned to our choice of movie for the night. The Princeton
Theatre ran some pretty recent films and some retro stuff, too. Krista had never
seen Notting Hill and it was playing, so we decided to watch that. I could vaguely
remember the film from watching it with Mom a few years before. It had Julia
Roberts and that English guy in it—Hugh Grant, yeah, that was his name. If I
remembered right, it was actually kinda cool and definitely a good date movie.
We took our places in the theatre only moments before the previews started
and I surprised myself by putting my arm around Krista. She leaned in against
my shoulder and I enjoyed the closeness. For some reason, it made me feel manly
and strong.
Sitting there watching, I thought about myself as Hugh Grant and of Krista as
Julia Roberts. She would’ve made a good movie star, and I think I would’ve been
right at home selling books, although maybe not travel books.
I wanted to kiss Krista. I even allowed myself to fantasize I was doing it. My
mind drifted from the movie and I pretended we were in a beautiful private park,
surrounded by giant old trees and lots of fragrant flowers. I took Krista in my
arms, pulled her close and kissed her—not like when she’d kissed me earlier, but
a deep, lasting kiss, the kind I’d been wanting and not getting for a long time.
I jerked back in my seat, causing Krista to stare at me for a moment. I pre-
tended my leg had gotten a sudden pain in it. The truth was far more disturbing
and I wasn’t about to share it with Krista. As I’d been kissing her in my day-
dream, Kerry had suddenly forced his way into my thoughts as if by magic. More
than that, in my mind it abruptly became Kerry I was kissing, instead of his sister.
I’d been jolted by the shock of it, and that’s when I jerked back in surprise. I
could still see him grinning at me inside my head, as if he was really in there
through some kind of psychic phenomenon. He had that same expression on his
face he’d had in his living room, as if he knew a secret about me. I shifted uncom-
fortably in my seat, disturbed by the thoughts in my own head.
- 75 -
Toby
At last! A day off! I’d been dying to get at some of the rides in Phantom World.
Best of all, it was C.T.’s day off, too, and we were spending the day together at
the park.
I met C.T. just outside the main gate. It was the first time I’d seen him wear-
ing something other than his staff shirt. He was wearing a pale-blue Hedwig and
The Angry Inch t-shirt and matching blue Umbro soccer shorts. I liked his shorts a
lot. They were sexy. I wanted to run my hands all over them.
I swallowed and I could feel my face getting hot, and I became fearful C.T.
could somehow read my thoughts. Things had been entering my mind recently
that I’d been afraid to think about before—desires that had never before fully
found expression. I’d long known I was into boys, but what that meant had
always been kind of foggy. It’d mostly been a desire to hug and kiss a boy, like
most guys would’ve hugged and kissed a girl. And then, there was that feeling I
got when I looked at a guy who wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Looking at C.T., my thoughts were becoming clearer. Where before thinking
about my desires was like trying to peer through a thick fog, now it was like gaz-
ing out the window on a crystal-clear day. I wanted to feel C.T.’s butt. I wanted
to hold him and kiss him and feel his tight butt while I did it. I wanted to see
what he had at the front of his shorts, too. I wouldn’t let my thoughts go any fur-
ther than that. Part of me wanted to, but my own thoughts seemed obscene.
I felt as if I wanted two different things—love and sex. My romantic notions
didn’t mix well with my physical desires. They were like oil and water. When I
thought about holding hands and hugging, it seemed very innocent. Even kissing
Mark A. Roeder
76
was romantic, although some of my fantasies that involved kissing went over the
line. Kissing was like a bridge from love to sex. At one end, it was affectionate. At
the other, it was pure physical desire. Once the bridge was crossed, kissing
became something different and led right into sex. Sexual acts didn’t seem
romantic to me. They didn’t seem like love. I wanted to have sex, sure, and I
knew people in love did those things, but I had mixed feelings about it. I didn’t
see how love and sex could fit together. I had these warm and fuzzy feelings for
C.T., and then I had these other wild, sexual desires directed toward him. I didn’t
feel love when I was thinking about sex with him. I just thought of the sex itself.
I couldn’t figure out how the two might go together: like I said, oil and water.
I wasn’t going to worry about it too much. My lack of experience was likely to
blame for my lack of understanding. Virginity had a greater meaning to me than
its simple definition. It didn’t just mean I’d never had sex. It meant confusion
and ignorance. The whole idea of sex intrigued and attracted me, but I must
admit it frightened me as well. I was going to take things slowly, however, so
hopefully I’d be ready when the time came. As slowly as things were proceeding,
I would probably have gray hair before I got there.
I patted C.T. on the back as we approached the ticket booth, the touch caus-
ing my hand to tingle as if electricity were passing through it. I wondered if C.T.
would notice me in my red tank top and black shorts. I sure didn’t have any kind
of muscles to show off, but tank tops made everyone look a little better built, and
I needed all the illusion I could get.
We flashed our ID cards and were soon inside.
“Let’s start small,” said C.T. “How about bumper cars first?”
“Lead on,” I said.
We turned left and made our way past the merry-go-round and onto the
bumper cars. The line wasn’t too long.
“It feels really weird being here and not working,” I said.
“Yeah, I was just thinking that, too. I keep feeling like I should be doing
something. Oh, look at that girl. How can she wear that green shirt with those
purple shorts?”
I stifled a giggle. C.T. was quite often on “fashion patrol.” I never thought
much about what anyone was wearing, unless it was a hot guy and his clothes
made him look especially sexy or something. C.T. seemed to notice everything. I
noted his shirt and shorts matched perfectly. I was willing to bet he was always—
um, what did Mom call it—a fashion plate? I just couldn’t picture C.T. appear-
ing anywhere wearing a striped shirt and plaid pants or anything like that.
Mark A. Roeder
77
We watched the bumper cars for a bit while waiting our turn. The scent of hot
rubber and electrical heat wafted out from the pavilion. The sparks coming from
overhead sounded like some kind of super-static. Some of the smaller kids really
got knocked around when a car crashed into theirs. I loved to see how older peo-
ple got into it. They gleefully drove around smashing into everything in sight as if
they were kids again too.
The bumper cars of Phantom World were unusual. Each was shaped like some
monstrous creature with the head at the front—Godzilla, ghosts, werewolves, the
Creature from the Black Lagoon, a giant, venomous looking spider, a witch, and
an assortment of zombies and ghouls. Freaky music with a rock beat was playing
and fit perfectly with the monster theme, but also sounded something like the
soundtrack to a scary movie. I’d noticed music was a big part of the atmosphere
of Phantom World. There was music everywhere. Someone had spent a lot of time
coming up with just the right sounds for different areas of the park. All the music
fit perfectly.
C.T. and I rushed to our cars as the chain at the front of the line was lifted.
C.T. hopped in a car made up to resemble the Grim Reaper, and I got the witch
car. The sound of squeaking pedals filled the air. It seemed almost a tradition. I’d
noticed it when I’d worked the bumper cars. Even though the power wasn’t
turned on and everyone knew it, they still pumped the pedals as if somehow they
could make their cars go. Perhaps it was just excitement and impatience to get
going. I couldn’t wait to ram into someone myself. I was going to do my best to
smash into C.T.
The ride started and I was immediately caught in a traffic jam, wedged in
between a werewolf and a ghoul, unable to move an inch. The jam broke quickly
enough and I was off. C.T. was already on the opposite side of the track, but I
began to swerve and dodge my way toward him. A really cute boy with long,
black hair slammed into me head on, snapping my neck back. He smiled at me
and I momentarily forgot where I was. I was lost in his gaze. I returned to my
purpose soon enough and hunted down C.T., while also keeping an eye out for
the boy who’d plowed into me. Sometimes, there were too many attractive guys
around; I just couldn’t look at them all!
Perfect, I thought as C.T. turned across my path not far ahead. I dodged a lit-
tle girl who nearly cut me off and then plowed into C.T. from the side. The jolt
knocked C.T. around and his Grim Reaper car slid sideways. C.T. laughed and
yelled, “Now you’re gonna get it, Toby!” In his smooth, soft voice, the threat
didn’t sound too convincing, but I laughed and sped away.
Mark A. Roeder
78
C.T. got me just before the ride ended. I was trapped by a dad riding with his
little girl and the cute boy with black hair when C.T. slammed me from behind. I
about got whiplash from the impact. C.T. laughed in victory and the ride was
over.
Despite the fact that I was with C.T., I was hoping the cute boy would come
and talk to me. I didn’t have the courage to approach him, but maybe he’d be
braver than I was. He was pulled away by friends, though, and that was the last I
saw of him. Was there something in his eyes as he looked at me, or was it my
imagination? He’d been looking at me even as his friends dragged him toward
another area of the park.
My attention quickly refocused on C.T. as he pulled me toward The Polter-
geist. “From sedate to terrifying,” he announced as we walked up the raised path
that led to the colossal wooden roller coaster.
The line actually passed under the tracks in more than one place, so the
coaster roared over our heads a few times as we waited our turn. I was nearly
shaking with nervousness, but determined to go on. I didn’t have a fear of coast-
ers—not exactly, anyway—but a part of me felt like bolting whenever I was wait-
ing to get on one. When the ride actually started, there were moments of sheer
terror, but a wild exhilaration that left me breathless.
The line for The Poltergeist was long and we had quite a wait. It wasn’t too
painful, however, as we had the coaster to watch and each other to talk to. C.T.
was telling me how he wanted to perform in some of the park’s shows when a
spot became available. Like me, he’d applied too late to get in this year. All the
singing and acting positions had been filled before he’d considered it. I told him I
wanted to get into the shows, too, and we agreed to try to get in on the same
one—the actual production to be decided later. I felt like I’d made a good friend.
Maybe C.T. would even be my boyfriend. He seemed the best bet at the
moment, although Spike wasn’t far behind. My head almost spun with the
thought of having two potential boyfriends all at once. My success with C.T. was
helping to take away the sting of Krista dating Orlando.
There was a group of shirtless high school boys not far ahead of us. They were
wearing shorts that said Charger Football. There were three of them and they were
all built. If I had pecs, abs, and biceps like them, I’d have gone around shirtless all
the time too. I stole glances at them as I talked with C.T. I thought about quietly
asking him what he thought of them, but I didn’t, because I feared that was going
too far. I didn’t want to push things with my potential boyfriend. He might not
like me checking out other guys. Who knew? He could be the jealous type. I
didn’t want to risk the boys overhearing either.
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79
I wondered why some guys got to be all built and studly and others were like
me—short, skinny, and weak. Okay, those guys ahead in the line played football
and no doubt worked out, but I didn’t think I could ever look like that even if I
killed myself on Mackenzie’s Bowflex or in a gym somewhere. Half of me was
mad because I could never look like those guys and the other half was mad at
myself for wanting to look like them. Why couldn’t I just be happy with the way
I looked? It was all those fitness magazines and Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs that
made everyone want to be all muscled and tight. I’d read something in a maga-
zine that talked about it: how the media pushed impossible standards that no real
person could achieve. It was simple cruelty, making people want something they
could never have. Then again, those boys in line ahead of us had it. They had
gorgeous bodies. Only one of the three was what I’d call handsome, but with
bulging muscles like that, who cared what their faces looked like?
I turned my attention to C.T. Maybe not everyone had to be an Abercrombie
& Fitch boy. C.T. didn’t look like those guys, and I was attracted to him. Maybe
I was just weird, but I thought he was hot in his own way. He didn’t have big
pecs or biceps and I didn’t know what his abs looked like, but I would’ve jumped
on him in a second if I thought it was okay.
After ages, we sat down side by side in the coaster. I pulled the bar down over
our laps and tried to calm myself. When all was secure, we slowly moved forward.
The anticipation increased to almost unbearable proportions as the train of cars
turned sharply and began its long, steep ascent. I wanted off. I wanted them to
stop the coaster and just let me off. Why was I stupid enough to get on this
thing? There was no stopping now, however, and besides, I didn’t want C.T. or
the football jocks in front of us to see me chicken out. I tried to take my mind off
my fear by focusing on the shoulder muscles of the boy in front of me. Mmmm,
he did look good. Was I the only guy in the world that sometimes felt like licking
someone?
We topped out and the coaster went into a dive. It felt like we were going a
150 miles an hour. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and, beside me, C.T.
squealed like a girl. He held his hands over his head and shouted, clearly having
the time of his life. I wasn’t going to let go of the bar for anything. My hands
were clamped down on it as if my life depended on it.
The air rushed through my hair as the coaster roared along its tracks. My heart
raced and I felt more alive than I had in a long time. The Poltergeist freaked me
out, but, at the same time, I loved it! We darted around turns and hopped over
the high points. We screamed down sharp inclines, feeling our hearts in our
throats. I was so glad to share this with C.T. It was freaking awesome!
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80
By the time the coaster jolted to a stop, I didn’t want to get off. I wanted to
stay right there and ride it again. I didn’t know if my heart could handle it,
though, so I willingly followed C.T. to the exit and back into the park.
We rode the merry-go-round, the Ferris Wheel, and just about every ride in
the park. The Twister just about gave me a heart attack. It was smaller than The
Poltergeist, but those loops made me feel like my insides were going to come right
out my mouth.
When our stomachs began to rumble with hunger, we took time out for
bacon-cheeseburgers, hot dogs, and fries, followed up by funnel cake and finally
cotton candy. After devouring all that we stayed away from the more intense rides
for a while. I had no desire to see my lunch again.
The one ride we didn’t get to go on was the Graymoor Mansion. I really
wanted to ride it, but the line was extremely long so we decided to save it for
another day. I didn’t mind too much. After all, we did get to ride everything else
in the park. We spent some time just walking around, too. I loved all the flowers,
the creepy trees, cemeteries, statues of monsters and the overall atmosphere of the
park.
We headed for the exit at about five. We had plenty of time left, but I was
exhausted and was getting a headache. C.T. looked kind of wilted, too. We’d had
an awesome time together and I sort of thought of it as our first date. I couldn’t
wait until we could do something together again, but at least I could look for-
ward to working with C.T. the very next day.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
When I arrived home, Mackenzie and Billy were in our room working out on
the Bowflex. They were both shirtless and sweaty. Billy’s muscles were bulging.
“Hey, Toby, why don’t ya work out with us?” said Billy. I hesitated just a
moment too long, giving Billy an opening to laugh at me. “Yeah, right! I bet you
couldn’t bench press 10 pounds.” Billy and Mackenzie both giggled.
“You laugh like a girl,” I said, trying to sound like Billy. Was that a mistake in
itself? I wanted to sound tough, but I didn’t feel it. What Billy said really got to
me—you couldn’t bench press 10 pounds. The truth was, I did want to work out
with them. At least part of me did. I knew I was weak physically and I wanted to
be stronger. I wouldn’t have minded being less skinny, too.
“Oh, trying to be a tough guy, huh?” said Billy, closing the distance between
us until we were standing face to face less than a foot from each other. He’d been
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81
doing bench presses right as I walked in, and his pectoral muscles were taut and
flexed with his slightest movement. I tried not to notice, but Billy looked hot.
“At least I’m not making a deluded attempt to look like some Abercrombie &
Fitch boy I saw in a catalog.”
“Deluded, huh?” said Billy, obviously without comprehension.
“It means you think you’re going to look like the guys in the catalogs if you
work out all the time, but you’re not.”
“Catalogs, huh?” said Billy. He and Mackenzie exchanged a glance. Did I
detect a slight shake of the head from Mac? “Anyway, Toby, don’t try to act
tough, because you’re not. I’m a year younger than you, but I can kick your ass.”
Billy seemed to grow taller as he stood over me, flexing his muscles. He had
the slightest, sexy smile on lips. Did he know he was turning me on, even as he
stood there threatening me? I turned away from him, not because I was afraid,
but because my excitement was beginning to show in my shorts and I didn’t want
him or Mackenzie to see.
“Just leave me alone,” I said.
Billy laughed and went back to working out on the Bowflex. I sat down at the
desk with the sound of pulling cables and bending rods behind me. Even though
I wasn’t looking, I knew what they were doing. Billy had sat back on the bench
again and was performing more bench presses. Part of me wanted to watch. Part
of me wanted to stare at his chest as his muscles tensed and flexed. Why was I
attracted to such an asshole? I sure couldn’t claim I was drawn to Billy by his
charming personality or sweet disposition. He had neither of those. All he had
was a body and a bad attitude.
I was confused by my feelings. Why did Billy turn me on when he towered
over me and threatened me? Why did he turn me on at all? It didn’t make sense.
I don’t know, maybe it did, but I wanted to be better than that. I wished he’d
stop hanging around. Well, most of me did, but part of me got a thrill from see-
ing him. I tried to get the image of his sweaty chest out of my mind, but I wasn’t
very successful, probably because part of me wanted to keep that image in my
head forever.
I went downstairs to get away from Billy, my brother, and their flexing mus-
cles. I thought about getting on the internet to look for Spike, but it was a little
early and I didn’t want to risk it with Billy and Mackenzie in the house. Instead,
I went into the kitchen, poured myself a bowl of cereal, and relived my day with
C.T. in the privacy of my own mind.
- 82 -
Mackenzie
Neither Billy nor I had mentioned what’d happened in the back of Mandy’s Cor-
vette convertible a couple of days earlier. It was my first time. Had I rid myself of
my virginity, or did what happened count? I’d made out with Mandy and we’d
felt each other up, but did that count as sex? I mean, it was sex, but we didn’t go
all the way. I wish we would’ve. Mandy was hot! I couldn’t believe Billy and I had
made it with her. She was, like, a college girl. What we’d done was probably ille-
gal, at least for her, and, for some reason, that made it all the more exciting. Still,
I was kind of frightened about the whole thing. I wanted it, no doubt about that,
but now that it’d happened I felt kind of weird about it.
I don’t know if I could’ve gone all the way with Mandy with Billy there
watching. I guess I would’ve if that was the only way. It would have been kind of
freaky, though, like what Mandy made us do.
I think that’s why Billy hadn’t mentioned Mandy since she dropped us off—
because of what happened. I never thought in a million years I’d kiss another boy,
but since that was the price for doing it with Mandy, I paid it. I didn’t like it,
though. I guess the actual kissing wasn’t all that different from kissing Mandy,
but still, it was with a boy. I was never gonna tell anyone I’d done it. I wondered
if Toby had kissed a boy yet. How could he enjoy it, knowing he was kissing
another guy? It would be kind of funny if Toby hadn’t done it yet. He was a
queer and I was straight, and I still made out with a boy before he did. I guess it
wasn’t really funny, though. I feared it was a memory that would haunt me for
the rest of my life. I’d probably have nightmares about it or something.
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83
Billy had been telling me about his sexual exploits, most of which I suspected
were just made-up stories, but they were still hot. He was oddly silent about
Mandy. Was he keeping quiet about doing it with Mandy because I was there
and didn’t need to be told, or was he ashamed of us kissing each other? It was
more his idea than mine. It was Mandy’s idea, of course, but Billy was the one
who pushed me into it. If I’d refused, he would’ve been pissed because that
would’ve been the end of things with Mandy. I could almost hear Billy accusing
me of cock-blocking him if I hadn’t gone along with it. I wondered why Billy
went through with it. He sure wasn’t queer. I guess he did it for the same reason I
did: so he could have Mandy. That’s what really decided it for me. I wanted her. I
didn’t want Billy pissed at me, but I wanted Mandy bad. I knew I’d probably
never get a chance at another girl in her 20s until I was in my 20s, too. The whole
thing blew my mind. Just thinking about it drove me crazy. Boy was Mandy hot!
No one was home. I was going over to Billy’s soon, but that was later, so I
leaned back on the pillows on my bed, pulled down my shorts and started mak-
ing myself feel good. I relived my entire Mandy experience, minus kissing Billy. I
was going to make use of those scenes for years to come.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Billy and I sat at his computer. We were online, as Spike, chatting with Toby.
Earlier in the evening, Spike had received an e-mail from Toby. We had set up a
special Hotmail e-mail address just for our pretend queer, Spike. Toby had sent a
photo of himself. Billy and I had been searching for one to send him, in case he
got brave enough to send his own. It had taken a long time to find something we
could use, especially since we made the mistake of telling Toby that Spike had
spiked hair—that cut down our options. We lucked out, though. Billy found the
website of some boy who lived in Nebraska that had a dozen or so photos of him-
self on it. He was perfect.
“I’m gonna try to get Toby to send us a shirtless pic,” said Billy.
“Why?”
“To see if he’s desperate enough to do it,” laughed Billy. He was wicked, a
quality I admired. Billy typed and then grinned up at me after a few moments.
“He’s desperate enough. He says he’ll take one and e-mail it. I told him Spike
would do the same.” Billy’s grin grew wider. He was having way too much fun.
“Hey, Mackenzie, you think it’s time to set up a meeting between Toby and
Spike?”
“Dude, do I need to remind you there isn’t a Spike?”
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84
“Duh! Just for fun, dude—just to mess with your brother’s head.”
“I dunno, man, that’s kinda cold.”
“Ah, come on. It won’t hurt him. Later I’ll make up some shit about why
Spike couldn’t make it. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, whatever,” I said. I wasn’t sure about the idea. It seemed more point-
less than fun, but I went along because Billy wanted it.
Billy typed along in silence for a while. I was getting a bit bored. I wanted to
uncover some material I could use against my brother in the future, but Billy was
intent on “the meeting.” I watched over his shoulder as he talked Toby into
hooking up with him. Billy hinted that there might be some fooling around
involved. That was enough lure for my horny brother. He agreed to meet at The
Grove, the local hangout and make-out spot for teens. It would be easy for us to
spy on him there, which was without doubt why Billy suggested it.
“Lemme talk to him for a while,” I said.
“Okay, man, I’m gonna go get a sandwich.”
I sat down at the keyboard, prepared to be Spike. It was time to discover some
of my brother’s secrets. Before I got the chance, he started chatting about Harry
Potter.
“What was your favorite part of the first book?” asked Toby.
I racked my brains, trying to come up with something.
“I liked the part when Harry first meets Malfoy at Hogwarts.”
“Huh?”
“It’s cool the way he blows him off,” I typed.
“Dude, that wasn’t in the book. He met him on the Hogwarts Express in the
book. He met him at Hogwarts in the movie.”
“Oh,” I typed. “Sorry, I get ’em mixed up.” I thought it was a pretty nice save.
Why the hell did they have to change things in the movie?
“So what’s your favorite part of the books?”
I thought hard for a bit.
“I like the sport they play on broomsticks best,” I typed. Please, let that be in
the book, I silently prayed. Surely, they didn’t add that in just for the movie.
“Yeah, Quidditch is so cool.”
It was time to get away from Harry Potter before I made another mistake.
Besides, I wanted to discover something useful.
“Hey, Toby,” I typed, “you have any guys you’re hot for? Like, boys at school
or something?” If I could get him to tell me boys he had a crush on, I’d have
some excellent material to tease him with. I could wait a few weeks and then kind
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85
of work it in without him realizing how I’d come by the information. I wouldn’t
out and out say he had a crush, but I could hint around and drive him crazy.
“Well…yeah. You?”
“Yeah,” I typed. I figured he’d tell me more if I told him some stuff, and what
did I care? It was just all made up for me. I just wanted to be sure I remembered
to take notes.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” I typed.
“You ever get turned on by a guy who’s not nice?”
“Um, what do you mean?” I was genuinely confused.
“I mean, I know this boy and he’s a jerk, but something about him turns me
on.”
“I guess I could get turned on if a boy like that was hot.”
“That’s not what I mean, exactly. This boy, he’s got a hot body and that gets
me excited, but there’s something more. I don’t know if I can explain it.”
“Try,” I typed, even though I wasn’t too sure I really wanted to hear. Having
my brother telling me about getting horny wasn’t exactly what I wanted.
“My brother’s got this friend and he’s a dick, but sometimes…I dunno. Like
today, he was working out with my brother and he was being a big jerk. He was
standing there over me, all sweaty-like with his muscles kinda gleaming and I
started getting…excited. I had to turn away so he and my brother couldn’t see. I
don’t know why he makes me feel like that. It doesn’t make sense.”
Whoa! Toby had the hots for Billy! I had the feeling I was learning too much,
but Billy was gonna laugh his ass off when I told him.
“Um, I don’t know,” I typed. “I guess I can kind of understand that, but I
don’t think I’ve ever felt that way.” I had no idea what to say, so I thought it best
to just play ignorant. Billy returned moments later.
“Guess who my brother’s hot for?” I asked him.
“Who?”
“You!”
“No shit!” said Billy. “Lemme talk to him.”
“Okay. Hey, I’m going to go home. I want Toby to see me there while he’s
still chatting with Spike. It’ll keep him from getting suspicious.”
“Good idea. Sometime, I’ll have to stop by your house while you chat with
him. That’ll confuse him even more.”
“Later, dude.”
“Later.”
- 86 -
Orlando
I was working the Scrambler when I caught sight of a familiar looking blond boy.
For a moment I didn’t recognize him, but then it hit me: He was Krista’s brother.
He was wearing the same worn jeans he had on couple of days before when I’d
first set eyes on him. He’d traded in his Motley Crue t-shirt for a sleeveless, No
Means No shirt. I wondered if he did it to show off his muscled arms or if it was
just coincidence. A girl was squeezed tightly to his side as they waited to get on
the ride. They had their arms around each other’s waists. When they drew level
with me, Kerry leaned down and gave his girl a lingering kiss.
“Hey, man,” said Kerry, looking up as their lips parted. “You’re Krista’s boy-
friend, right? Oreo? Um, that’s not right…”
“Orlando,” I said, pointing to my name tag.
“Yeah, that’s it. Sorry, man.”
Kerry locked his blue eyes on mine and the edges of his mouth upturned ever
so slightly. The girl at his side was gazing up at him adoringly and he knew it. I
had no doubt he was turning on the charm for her. He looked down and gave her
another kiss.
“This is, uh, Cheryl.”
“Sherry,” the girl corrected.
“Right. Sorry. I’m so bad with names.”
“I guess you two haven’t been dating long then,” I said.
“Oh, no, actually we’re not. I mean, we would, but Sherry’s just here for the
day. She’s from Kentucky.”
“Tennessee,” said Sherry.
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87
“Right,” said Kerry. “We’re hanging for the day, aren’t we, Babe?”
She nodded and Kerry kissed her again. Did he always pick a girl for the day
when he came to the park?
“Anyway, nice seeing you, man. I’ll tell Krista I saw you.” He started to move
on, but then stopped. “Hey, you have some time off later? We could hang out or
talk or somethin’.”
“Um, I’m off at six,” I said, a bit bewildered.
“Cool, why don’t I meet you somewhere then?”
“Uh, okay, I guess. The hot dog stand?”
“Sure, man. That’ll be cool. See ya then.”
The ride finished and I walked up and opened the gate. Kerry and Sherry
passed me again, both smiling. They were making out as I secured the door of
their car. Kerry was being awfully friendly. I didn’t think he cared all that much
for me when we’d met. Maybe I’d just got the wrong impression, though. He
seemed nice enough. Sherry sure liked him. I remembered he called Krista ice
princess, although that was probably just a brother/sister rivalry type of thing.
Even Krista had said he wasn’t all that bad.
I missed working with Krista. It was her day off. Unfortunately, my day off
didn’t always coincide with hers. I was hoping we could get that changed. Park
management was pretty good about that. They seemed to sincerely care whether
or not we were happy.
I’d worked alongside Toby in the morning on The Twister. He was all hyped
up, more than usual, which was saying something. He was dancing around and
singing some. The guests in line thought it was funny and do did I. Toby was a
riot sometimes.
Time passed quickly in the park and, before I knew it, it was about six. I left
the Phantom World Railroad where I’d been working with Avery, a college boy
from up north, and made my way through the park toward the hot dog stand.
Kerry was there waiting on me. There was no sign of Sherry.
“Where’s your girl?” I asked.
“She had to leave at five. I’ve been wandering around by my lonesome.”
“I’m sure you managed.” Kerry struck me as someone who could take care of
himself in any situation. An amusement park was hardly a challenge for him.
Kerry flashed me a toothy grin.
“Hungry?” asked Kerry.
“Starving.”
“Let’s get some wieners, then.” Kerry leveled his gaze at me, looking suddenly
serious.
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88
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I was thinking about a foot-long with the works. I like ’em long,” he said.
“And maybe some fries.”
“Give me a buck-fifty, then. I’ll order. I get half off.”
I pocketed the money Kerry gave me and used my ID card to order. I ordered
the same thing he did, with a root beer. A couple of minutes later we were sitting
at the same bench Krista and I had occupied a couple of days or so earlier.
“So you serious about my sis?” asked Kerry.
“Is this the brotherly warning to keep my hands off?”
“Fuck, no! I don’t care what you do with her. I’m just making conversation.”
“I like her a lot. I think I could get serious about her pretty easily.”
“I guess you know what you’re getting into,” said Kerry. “I mean, she’s
okay—you’re probably a lot friendlier with her than I am, so she’s probably nicer
to you.”
“You two don’t get along?”
“We get along okay. We just get on each others nerves. She’s always tying up
the bathroom and she says I play my music too loud.”
“So, you like the Hanson Brothers?” I asked, indicating his No Means No
t-shirt.
“You know their music? I wouldn’t have taken you for that kind of guy. You
look more like a Hanson type, instead of a Hanson Brothers type.”
What does he mean by that?, I thought. But I said, “Actually, I read their name
on the back of your shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Kerry.
We didn’t speak for a while after that. We just watched passersby and occa-
sionally looked at each other. There was something intense about Kerry’s face,
something mysterious.
My eyes were drawn to his mouth as he ate his foot-long. He had a peculiar
way of eating a hot dog. He bit off the bun around the dog with his teeth and ate
it separately. He caught me watching him and slowly slid his lips up the exposed
wiener before taking a bite. He had that look on his face again—the one where
the corners of his mouth ever so slightly turned up into the most minimal smile.
“So, have you done it with my sister yet?”
“That’s kind of personal, but no, we just started going out.”
“You a virgin?”
I was a bit uncomfortable with the conversation, especially since I barely knew
Kerry. I hesitated.
“You are, aren’t you?” Kerry said, conspiratorially.
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89
I didn’t answer and Kerry didn’t press me. Instead, he just grinned, and again,
I had the feeling he knew the answer without me saying it out loud.
Our conversation turned to other matters, and Kerry asked me about working
in the park, where I went to school, and so forth. After the question about my
virginity, it was all very non-threatening. His eyes were always on me, though,
and I felt like I was under a microscope.
When Kerry looked into my eyes, I felt like he could read my very thoughts. I
felt like he knew what had happened when I’d been fantasizing that I was Hugh
Grant and Krista was Julia Roberts. For a fleeting moment, Krista had turned
into Kerry and I was kissing him instead. I hoped to God he couldn’t really read
my thoughts.
We walked around the park, stopping to ride on the bumper cars and the
Splashing Specter. It was kind of fun hanging out with Kerry. It felt a little weird,
since I was his sister’s boyfriend, but I guess there was no reason for me to feel
like that. Why shouldn’t we hang out? I was glad that Kerry had asked to meet
me. He was more than a little cool. I never dreamed when I met him that we’d be
friends, but we certainly seemed to be heading in that direction.
Kerry had a tough-guy side to him I didn’t possess. He had a “we live for
today” feel about him, although I’m not sure what made me think so. Maybe it
was something in his expression, or his gait. His face betrayed no fear, no uncer-
tainty and no vulnerability. His stride spoke of confidence and perhaps even con-
ceit. He had an aura of strength about him I admired.
I was a little afraid Kerry was a druggie, and I intended to make it clear I
didn’t do that stuff if he tried to lead me down that path. At the very least, he was
a smoker. He gave no sign of lighting up in the park, but I could just tell.
As we were strolling around, a boy of maybe fourteen, with long dark hair,
eyed Kerry warily. He seemed about to approach us for a moment, but then
turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. I looked at Kerry. He was
watching him depart.
“Friend?” I asked.
Kerry turned his head in my direction. “Uh, former friend you could say, but
not really: just a kid that used to hang around me.”
What do you want to do next?” I asked.
“Hey, what time is it, man?” asked Kerry, stopping and looking around as if
searching for a clock.
“About eight.”
“Shit, um, I gotta get goin’.”
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90
“Okay, no problem. Um…” I stood there awkwardly, not really wanting him
to go. He seemed to sense it.
“Hey, drop by sometime, why don’t ya? When you’re not pawing my sister
or…whatever.” Kerry winked at me.
I ignored the remark about Krista. “Sure, I might do that. Um, here’s my
number,” I said, writing it out on a scrap of paper I’d pulled from my pocket. In
case you want to call or…whatever.”
Kerry gave me one of his “barely a smile” smiles and took the paper from me
without comment. He stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
“Later, man,” he said.
“Later.”
I headed toward the rear of the park, in the direction of the employee parking
lot, while Kerry quickly disappeared into the crowd. There was something mysti-
fying about Kerry. I thought about him a lot all the way home.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
When I got to the house, Eddie was waiting for me on the curb by the street. I
noted that Gene’s truck was parked nearby.
“Hey, man, wanna hang out?”
“Sure,” I said, eyeing Gene’s truck. I didn’t feel like dealing with my mother’s
boyfriend or whatever he was to her.
I followed Eddie to his Cutlass, which was parked down the street. I climbed
in, noticing that his hair was squeaky clean. I leaned in and sniffed.
“Strawberry shampoo,” said Eddie. “Beth likes it.” He grinned. Apparently,
he’d taken my advice.
“So, how’s that goin’?” I asked.
“It’s goin’ good, man!” said Eddie, grinning even more. I was right. He was
almost cute when he smiled—not quite, but almost.
“We went to the movies last night.”
“So, I guess you asked her out?”
“Nah, we just happened to end up sitting side by side at the same movie. Of
course, I asked her out, dufus!”
“And she actually said yes?” I tried to sound amazed.
“Shut up!” said Eddie, but he was still smiling.
“Will wonders never cease?”
“Dude, don’t make me hurt ya.”
“Okay. Okay,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender.
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“I had my arm around her the whole movie and she was kind of snuggling up
against me, you know? So, when she looked at me, I leaned in and kissed her.”
“And she didn’t scream rape?” Sometimes, I cracked myself up.
“We’re not talking about one of your dates, Orlando. Anyway, we made out in
the car afterwards until she had to go home. I’d say give it two weeks and she’ll let
me nail her.”
“You’re so romantic,” I said.
“Hey, I got what the babes like,” said Eddie, grabbing his crotch.
“A small dick?”
He punched me hard in the shoulder for that one, but he wasn’t mad. That’s
something I liked about Eddie. We could goof around without either of us get-
ting pissed off.
“Man, Beth is so fine.”
“Better than Tara?”
“A hundred times better than Tara. She was a skank.”
“I seem to recall you were quite taken with her.”
“I liked bangin’ her. She was cheating on me with Adam Henshaw. Can you
believe it?”
“Adam Henshaw?” I asked, incredulously. Adam was a true burnout. He
made Eddie look like an angel.
“Yeah, she was makin’ it with the most repulsive boy in school while we were
dating.”
“Man, I’d get myself tested. You don’t know where Adam’s been or what he’s
done.”
“I don’t wanna know.”
“Who does?”
“I always used protection with Tara. I’d have been up shit creek if I knocked
her up, and besides, I had my doubts about her. I wasn’t real surprised she was
sleeping around. After all, I screwed her when she was dating Eric Michaels.”
“Dude! That was just asking for trouble. He’d have pounded your butt if he
found out.”
“Hey, I couldn’t help it. She made me sleep with her.”
“Made you? How?”
“By asking me! You know I’ve got no willpower. I need a joint.”
Eddie pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road and rolled himself a joint.
“You should still get tested,” I said.
“I did, man, after I found out about Adam. Since then, I found out she was
sleeping with a lot of guys.”
Mark A. Roeder
92
“I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“I think maybe you’re the only guy who didn’t sleep with her. You didn’t, did
you?”
“Dude! I wouldn’t sleep with your girl!”
“I don’t mean while we were dating. I know you wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Oh. No, I never got near Tara. I wouldn’t have touched her with…sorry.”
“It’s okay, Orlando. I should’ve had more sense myself, but, like I said, I got
no willpower. Babes can just wrap me around their little finger.”
“With a string tied around your balls,” I said. “So, has Beth got you lassoed by
the ‘nads yet?”
“Oh yeah. I’m all ready to be her little slave-boy. Oh! Doesn’t that sound like
fun?”
“Spare me the details,” I said.
“Ah, come on, man, you got no imagination!”
I grinned and shook my head as Eddie toked. I could already feel myself get-
ting a slight buzz.
“What’s on your mind?” asked Eddie after we’d sat there in silence for a while.
He could usually tell when I was off.
“My mom. She’s been seeing this new guy, Gene. I’m not sure about him
yet.”
“Is this the whole, you resent him because he’s tryin’ to replace your real dad,
thing?”
“No. My dad left. He abandoned Mom and me, so I don’t care if he gets
replaced or not.”
“Oh, I saw that on TV somewhere. So what’s with this guy, Gene?”
“I don’t know. Nothin’, I guess. I just get this weird vibe from him. He’s like,
nice and everything, but I wonder if it’s just an act. He gave me ten bucks the
other day. It’s like he’s tryin’ to buy me off.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
“I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens.”
“Well, if this Gene doesn’t work out and Beth doesn’t work out, maybe I
could date your mom!”
“Yeah, like she’d want a loser like you.”
“Come on, older women love us young guys, ’cause we’re so good in bed.”
“Dude, we’re talking about my mom here.”
“She’s hot, man. You see, you don’t notice, ’cause she’s your mom, but I’d
pop her in a second.”
“Dude!”
Mark A. Roeder
93
“Well, it’s true. Don’t worry, Orlando, if we get married, I won’t make you
call me daddy.”
I punched Eddie in the upper arm—hard.
“Ouch!”
Eddie rubbed his arm, put his joint out by sticking the burning end in his
mouth, then pulled onto the road again. I sat back and relaxed. Chilling with
Eddie made me feel better about everything.
- 94 -
Toby
All day my mind was filled with C.T. and Spike. I worked The Graymoor Man-
sion with C.T., and we were once again heavily involved in talk about musicals
and music in general. I admitted I had a thing for boy bands, and C.T. didn’t
flinch. I thought that since he was such a big musical-theatre enthusiast that he
night turn up his nose at pop music. He didn’t. He told me he liked most of the
groups I mentioned.
“You know,” said C.T., “Phantom and Hanson aren’t really boy bands. The
play their own instruments and write their own songs. They’re hardly boys,
either. Jordan’s, what, twenty-two now?”
“Twenty-one, his birthday’s on July 31
st
.”
“Okay, so twenty-one isn’t exactly a boy. Anyway, my point is Phantom and
Hanson aren’t true boy bands because they don’t just get up and dance around to
music written and played by someone else. That’s probably why they’re still
around, and The Backstreet Boys, N’SYNC, and a whole lot of others are history.
Boy bands don’t stick around long. They’re all the rage for a while and then they
just disappear. Mainly, teenagers go for them and when they grow up a little, they
forget all about the guys they had plastered all over their walls for a while. Just
watch, Aaron Carter will go the same way as the others. In a few years people will
be saying Aaron who? Phantom and Hanson are serious musicians and will proba-
bly be around as long as they like, but boy bands—here today and gone tomor-
row.”
“I never thought of it like that. You know, I guess you’re right. I used to see
Phantom and Hanson plastered all over the teen magazines, but they’re not there
Mark A. Roeder
95
anymore. Now they’re in magazines like Rolling Stone and the more serious music
publications.”
“Exactly.”
I grinned. It was great to have someone I could discuss music with face to face,
instead of on the internet. C.T. was real.
Spike was real, too, even though we’d never met face to face. I had a picture of
him on my computer, and was he hot! I was surprised he wanted to meet me after
seeing my pic. I’m not exactly repulsive, but short and skinny isn’t exactly what
most guys, or girls for that matter, go for.
When I wasn’t with C.T., I was thinking about Spike most of the day. I felt a
little guilty about planning to meet him, because I really liked C.T. and kind of
thought of our day together as a date. It wasn’t really, though. Neither of us had
called it that and I didn’t know how C.T. viewed us. I wanted our relationship,
whatever it was, to be more clear-cut, but I didn’t want to talk to C.T. about it
too soon. He might think I was desperate or pushy or something. And then, there
was the potential for rejection. He might just see me as a friend and nothing
more. Just because he was gay didn’t mean he’d go for me. I was sure there were
thousands and thousands of gay guys who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot
pole. C.T. could be one of them.
Spike was another matter. He’d hinted he was interested in doing something
with me. Late in our chat, he’d come right out and said he wanted to fool around
with me. I was just about to find out exactly what kind of fooling around he
meant when my bratty brother came home. He walked toward me, and I was so
shaken and fearful that he’d see I was on Gay.com, that I typed a quick gtg (got
to go) and closed the browser.
I sent Spike an e-mail before leaving for work, confirming our meeting at The
Grove at 6:30 p.m. It would still be light out then, which I thought a good idea. I
felt like I knew Spike from talking so much with him, but I didn’t really know
him. I was mostly sure he wasn’t a child molester or chainsaw murderer in dis-
guise, but I wasn’t stupid. It paid to play it safe. Still, my parents would’ve
freaked out if they knew what I was up to. I could just hear Mom: Meeting some-
one off the internet! Do you want to send me to an early grave? You could end up in
some psycho’s freezer!
I was excited all day about my upcoming meeting. I was hardly aware of Krista
when she was talking to me. I felt a bit bad about that, but it wasn’t like I was
mean or something. Besides, Orlando was working with us, and she was too busy
mooning over him to pay a great deal of attention to me. Things were getting
tighter between those two, and I found myself getting a little jealous.
Mark A. Roeder
96
I felt guilty. I was mainly thinking about what Spike and I might do when we
met. I hadn’t so much as kissed a boy and I was eager to do so. I was pretty eager
to do a lot more, too. To be honest, I wanted to do about everything two guys
could do together, even though I didn’t entirely understand some of it. I’d
learned a lot about gay sex from the internet and some of it seemed a little far
fetched. I especially didn’t know if I wanted some guy to stick his thing up my
butt. That had to hurt, although in the pictures I’d seen, the guys doing it seemed
to enjoy it. I was sure Spike and me wouldn’t be doing that at our first meeting,
but there were plenty of other possibilities that caused my shorts to grow tighter
in the front.
I knew I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I should’ve been thinking about
Spike as a possible boyfriend. I was, but thoughts of sex were clouding my vision
and getting in the way. It seemed impossible to separate the two. I wanted much
more than sex. That wasn’t even the most important part of what I wanted. But
when I thought about having a boyfriend, holding his hand, looking at the stars
and hugging him, my thoughts always sailed right along—thoughts of hugging
led to visions of humping and getting hard, and then doing something to relieve
the tension that hardness always brought with it. I wanted a sweet, romantic,
boyfriend who’d be my friend, but I couldn’t think about that without also
thinking about dick. Even though love and sex were like oil and water to me, they
were still connected by a bridge; the one seemed to lead to the other.
Maybe it was okay that I thought about sex so much. All guys did. Sure, most
of ’em were thinking about girls, but it was just the same. I think maybe I
thought about the non-sex stuff more than the guys who went nuts over girls. I
never heard any of them talk about going on walks, holding hands, or just spend-
ing time with a girl. It was always about blowjobs—wanting one or getting one,
and sometimes about fucking. It was never about love. I’d seen some guys with
girls in the halls who had a kind of dreamy look in their eyes that made me think
their thoughts were bent towards romance, but I wasn’t sure. Maybe they started
thinking about walks in the moonlight and stuff like that after they got a girl.
Maybe it was just guys without girlfriends, or boyfriends, who were obsessed with
sex. Maybe I’d calm down after I found someone—although I sincerely doubted
it.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I rode my Trek toward The Grove, the mountain bike making passage along
the rutted lane with ease. The Grove was a place of legend, a place where teenag-
Mark A. Roeder
97
ers went to have sex and do lots of other forbidden things. I’d been there before.
I’d come when I was twelve, out of curiosity. A couple of high-school boys smok-
ing dope had pushed me around, made me get on my knees and beg them not to
beat me senseless. I never told anyone about that. Sometimes, I still thought of
those boys towering above me with their flexing muscles. They could’ve hurt me
if they’d wanted. They could’ve made me do anything they wanted. That realiza-
tion both frightened and thrilled me at the time and since.
I was older now, no longer a little kid. I still felt a tremor of fear pass through
my frail body as if those same boys would still be there waiting on me. I shook
my head to clear it. There was no reason to fear the ghosts of the past.
I climbed off my bike and leaned it against a tree. The Grove was empty. It was
not yet 6:30. In my eagerness, I’d arrived a little early. Maybe I should’ve come a
little later to make an entrance, but it was hard to wait knowing I might soon
have what I’d wanted for so very long—a boyfriend, or, at the very least, sex.
I tried not to just stare at my watch. Time crawled; 6:30 came and went with-
out the appearance of Spike. By 6:45 I was downcast. He wasn’t coming. I felt
like crying. I actually began to do so, but I stopped myself before I’d sobbed too
much and wiped my eyes with my shirttail. I was being a baby. Besides, he might
still come.
He didn’t. The minutes passed; 7:00 came and went. Soon, I gave up. I was
too miserable to wait any longer. I climbed back on my bike and rode home.
I shoved my bike in the garage, not caring when it fell over with a crash. I
walked inside, straight to the computer. I checked my e-mail. There was a mes-
sage from Spike.
Toby,
I’m really sorry. My parents caught me smoking and grounded me. I don’t
even smoke, not really. I just tried it with a couple of friends and my par-
ents actually drove by and saw me. Can you believe it? I’m sorry. I know it
was stupid to do that today when I was going to be meeting you, but I
didn’t think I’d get caught. I’m not allowed to drive now, at least not for a
while. Dad’s talking two weeks, but I’m hoping to get a reduced sentence
for good behavior. I hope you didn’t wait for me long. I feel like a jerk.
Don’t hate me, ‘k?
Mark A. Roeder
98
To make up a little for not being there, I’ve attached another pic of me. It’s
without a shirt. I hope you like it
☺
Spike
I felt better, although there was still a sob in my throat that wanted to come
up. I wasn’t going to let it. It would be stupid to cry. Spike didn’t stand me up.
He got in trouble. I was pissed at him for being stupid, but, like he said, he
hadn’t planned to get caught.
I didn’t like him smoking. It made him less appealing. I’d always thought that
kissing someone who smoked would taste nasty. I’d probably still kiss Spike after
he’d been smoking. I’d take the risk to feel his lips against mine. I’d do it so I
could touch his tongue with my own.
The pic he sent drove me crazy. I just stared at his muscles for a while. I loved
the way his biceps curved on his arms. Looking at his chest muscles just about
made me run for the bathroom to whack off. No one was in the room with me,
so I quickly printed out a copy of the pic and slipped it under my shirt. I’d keep
it hidden under my bed or somewhere like that so I could look at it over and
over. I’d keep Spike’s e-mail, too, so I could see his pic online. I didn’t dare save
it to the hard drive. Mom or Dad or Mackenzie might find it if I did.
I hit reply and answered Spikes e-mail.
Dear Spike,
It’s okay, I guess. I waited for about an hour, thinking you might just be
late. I really wanted to meet you. I still do. I understand. It’s not your fault.
Well, it is, but you didn’t mean it to happen. I hope you can still use the
internet even though you’re grounded. It will suck if you can’t. If you can,
e-mail me right back so I’ll know. I’ll get on Gay.com at ten and look for
you. Be there if you can. I still want to talk.
That pic you sent me of you is sooo hot! It got me all excited. It makes me
wanna…well, I’ll tell you that when we chat. I’ll try and get a shirtless pic
of me soon, too, but you won’t like it. I’m skinny and not built like you.
Toby
Mark A. Roeder
99
I hoped he’d e-mail me back soon. I hoped he’d be online at ten, too. It would
make me feel better if I could talk to him. It would reassure me he hadn’t just
decided I was a pathetic loser whom he didn’t want to meet. It would truly suck
if his parents wouldn’t let him use the internet. It might be two weeks before I
heard from him then—two weeks of waiting and wondering.
- 100 -
Mackenzie
With Billy at my side, I watched Toby through a thick growth of honeysuckle.
My brother was waiting on a boy who would never come—a boy who didn’t
even exist. Billy looked on with delight in his eyes, snickering quietly. I wasn’t
enjoying myself so much, especially when I saw Toby start to cry. I wanted to
mess with his head and dig up some dirt on him, but I didn’t want to hurt his
feelings. I wasn’t feeling so good about myself as I watched him.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to Billy. “This is getting boring.”
When we were well away from The Grove, Billy turned to me and said, “That
was cool, wasn’t it? We actually got him to go and meet Spike.”
I didn’t answer.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Dude, what we’re doing isn’t cool. We’re playing with his feelings. You saw
him cry.”
“Ah, come on, Mac. Don’t go soft on me. He’ll get over it. Spike is just some
guy he talks to on the internet. It’s not like we hired some boy to pretend to like
him and then spit in his face or somethin’. Come on.”
“I dunno. This isn’t turning out like I’d planned. I feel bad about it. Maybe
we should stop.”
“Now that would hurt Toby, wouldn’t it? He likes Spike. He likes talking to
him. It probably gives him something to look forward to. You know how boring
your brother is. If he wasn’t chatting with Spike, he’d just be reading some stupid
book or something.”
“But Spike’s not real! You keep talking about him like he is! We created him.”
Mark A. Roeder
101
“Dude, chill. I know. I’m the one who hunted down the photos of him to
send Toby. Remember? Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll send him an
e-mail. I’ll say Spike was grounded, like we planned, but I’ll make Spike all sorry
about it, that way Toby won’t feel bad. I’ll even go ahead and send him a shirtless
pic. He’ll like that. It’ll give him something to jerk to.”
“I dunno.”
“Look, man, we’re doing him a favor. You think a real boy is gonna go for
your brother, especially one as good looking as Spike? Toby’s a freaking geek,
man. He’s short, he’s skinny, and he’s only okay looking. He’s got no muscles
and he probably has a tiny pecker. On top of all that, he’s boring and he’s inter-
ested in all those boy bands. Okay, maybe that last one is a plus with fags, I
dunno, but as far as the rest—he’s hopeless. The boy is gonna die a virgin. No
one’s gonna have sex with him unless he pays for it or something. At least he gets
to have this nice little fantasy. Hell, I’ll even have cyber-sex with him to keep him
happy. Guys pay for that kind of shit and we’re givin’ it away for free.”
“You make it sound like we’re doing this for his benefit,” I said.
“Okay, we’re not. You want to find out Toby’s secrets and that’s a fuckin’
smart move, man. Someday, he’s gonna get some serious shit on you. Maybe
you’ll try drugs and he’ll find out. Maybe you’ll get some girl pregnant or some-
thing, I dunno, but when something like that happens you can shut him up fast
by holding something you’ve found out over his head. You know, you could be
really nasty with what you’ve already got on him. He’d probably do anything you
want to keep you from squealing to your parents that he’s a fag…”
“I don’t know about that.”
“The point is you’re not doing that. You’re just getting information to protect
yourself later and maybe to have a little fun with. It’s insurance. You’re buying a
fuckin’ insurance policy, man.”
“And what are you getting out of it?” I asked.
“It’s fun, man. You know how boring it is around here. Shit like tonight,
that’s a laugh, man. We got your stuck-up brother to go and meet someone who
doesn’t even exist. It’s funny! We’re also getting him to tell us all kinds of shit
he’d never tell us otherwise. Sure, a lot of it’s fag stuff and kinda gross, but some
of it’s not. Hell, it makes me wish I had a brother so I could pull a stunt like this
on him. It’s classic, man!”
I still wasn’t sure, but, as Billy pointed out, Toby was getting something out of
it.
“Well, maybe, if we can end this thing in a way that won’t hurt him…”
Mark A. Roeder
102
“Leave it to me, Mac. When we’re done playin’ with him, I swear, I’ll end it in
such a way that it will just be a pleasant memory for Toby. I like fucking with
your brother, but I don’t want to hurt him either. What kind of an asshole do
you think I am, anyway? I’ll plan it all out so that when Spike does break things
off, it won’t hurt him, okay?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Look, if you want me to, I can do most of this by myself. It would probably
be smart for him to see you around a lot when he’s talking to Spike anyway. If he
begins to catch on, you’ll be the number one suspect.”
“He might suspect you, too.”
“I’ll work on somethin’ for that,” said Billy. “Don’t worry so much, Macken-
zie. I got it all covered.”
Billy was probably right. He was cool. He knew things. He could handle this.
It wasn’t like we were going to keep it up forever. It would all be over in a few
weeks anyway. Billy would end it so that Toby wouldn’t get hurt, so what did it
really matter? Besides, it was something I could offer Billy, something to keep
him thinking of me as cool. I was tired of being just one of the guys. I wanted to
be in and Billy was the key.
- 103 -
Orlando
I enjoyed working at Phantom World right from the start, but Krista made it extra
special. Toby added his own bit of exuberant fun into the mix as well, but my
heart leaped each time Krista walked toward me. She made me feel something I’d
not felt before. There are no words to describe it. I couldn’t even explain it to
myself in my own head. It was one of those things for which there is no language.
The closest I could come was thinking of it as a feeling that made my chest rise
and sort of tingle—almost a nervous feeling, nearly fear, but not quite either of
those. Whatever it was, I liked it.
My day at the park passed in a blur of noisy Skee-Ball, roaring roller coasters,
and the beautiful music of the merry-go-round. At lunch, Krista, Toby and I sat
and ate cheeseburgers and fries in the warm sun. We were surrounded by beauty,
kids having fun and the sounds of the park.
Toby seemed a bit jealous of Krista and me at times, but either he was growing
more at ease with our relationship or he was hiding his feelings well. I wondered
if he had a crush on Krista and resented me a little for dating her. I couldn’t just
come right out and ask him, however, without embarrassing him or making him
angry. I thought it best just to leave it alone.
Krista and I both got off work at six and decided to stay and enjoy the park.
Both of us had a special love for amusement parks. I’d have thought we would’ve
have grown tired of Phantom World since we worked there practically every day
of the week, but neither of us seemed to be able to get quite enough of it. We
often stayed after work, just to have a bit of fun. I even hung around late when
Krista was gone, riding rides or talking to Mr. Meadows.
Mark A. Roeder
104
“What’ll it be for supper?” I asked Krista. “Seafood, pizza, submarine sand-
wiches, chicken nuggets, or gourmet hot dogs? Perhaps followed by a delicious
funnel cake with strawberry or blueberry topping?”
Krista laughed. “You sound like a waiter in a fancy restaurant.”
“Good, that’s what I was going for. I wish I could afford to take you to fancy
restaurants.” My smile faded.
“Hey,” said Krista, “who needs that? Listen, you want to know the truth? I
don’t like fancy restaurants. Don Pablos or The Olive Garden is the top of the
scale for me and I usually prefer Fazoli’s, Denny’s, or Pizza Hut.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“No, really! And, honestly, I’d rather be right here, with you, eating hot dogs
or whatever in this beautiful park than anywhere else. I don’t need fancy restau-
rants. I don’t even want them. They make me uncomfortable. Give me a good
old hamburger any day.”
I grinned. “You make me feel much better about being poor.”
“Who’s poor?” asked Krista. “Look at where we are. We’ve got all this.” She
indicated our surroundings with a sweep of her hand. “When I was a little girl,
my parents used to bring me here maybe once a year. I dreamed about that trip
for weeks in advance, and now I’m here just about every day. It’s my own little
paradise and you…you’re my Prince Charming to share it with.”
“Me? Prince Charming? I’m more like the frog.”
“No! You’re not. You’re my Prince Charming, and you’re mixing fairy tales
anyway.”
I smiled. “Have it your way, then. So, what will it be?”
“Hmm, a submarine is sounding good—one of those big ones with spicy sau-
sage and those yellow peppers.”
“But no jalapenos!” I said.
“I agree. Those things set my lips on fire.”
I grinned at her, leaned in and kissed her. “Your lips are always on fire,” I said,
wiggling my eyebrows. She laughed, pushed me away, and then grabbed me by
the wrist and pulled me toward the submarine sandwich booth.
Thick dark clouds rolled in as if threatening rain. The rain did not come, but
it made it seem as if it were much later in the evening. I loved the evening hours
in Phantom World. It made parts of the park spooky like a haunted house and
others beautiful like an enchanted garden. Across from the submarine booth the
Ferris Wheel was lit up with thousands of lights. Krista and I sat eating our sand-
wiches on a park bench watching the lights of the Ferris Wheel as it slowly turned.
Soft music played as it went round and round.
Mark A. Roeder
105
“Do you think Toby’s a little jealous of me?” I asked Krista.
“Jealous?”
“Yeah, when we started going out he got a little distant. He just seems kind of
jealous sometimes. I’ve been wondering if he has a crush on you.”
“Me? I don’t think so. We’re not like that. Toby’s a great guy, but he’s like a
little brother. I couldn’t think of him in a romantic way.”
“He might be thinking of you like that.”
“I hope not.”
“Me, too. He’s a great kid and I think of him as a friend. I wouldn’t want any-
thing messing that up.”
“Yeah.”
Our conversation flowed easily from one thing to another. That’s one of the
things I liked about Krista. We could talk about anything. After we finished our
sandwiches we bought a couple of donuts for dessert, as neither of us felt up to
funnel cake. Krista got a chocolate-covered donut with orange sprinkles, and I
picked a sourdough donut with maple icing. We ate them and licked each other’s
fingers clean.
“How about a ride?” asked Krista, indicating the tall Ferris Wheel.
I followed her to the short line and before long we were sitting in a swinging
bench seat. We moved up a few feet at a time, while others took their places, and
then the wheel began to slowly turn, affording us a view of a good deal of the
park.
Just across the way was The Graymoor Mansion, sitting above us on the hill. It
really looked as if it had sat there for a hundred years, even though it was a new
addition to the park. The new fit seamlessly with the old here. Phantom World
was an old park, in operation for decades as Mystic Gardens, but it had been given
a new lease on life. I was glad. I remembered the park before it was closed down
for restoration and construction. It was getting a rundown look to it. It just
didn’t pull in enough guests to keep it going. It was nearly lost, the owners on the
verge of going into bankruptcy, but it was saved at the last moment. The trans-
formation was unbelievable. The old park was restored and new attractions were
added. The park was given its spooky theme, and Mystic Gardens became Phan-
tom World. I thought it was a rather clever play on words.
I put my arm around Krista as the Ferris Wheel took us up, down and around.
She leaned into my shoulder and I caught the scent of her perfume. I couldn’t
resist kissing her once more.
“How about The Graymoor Mansion?” I asked, as we walked away from the
Ferris Wheel. “I still haven’t been on it.”
Mark A. Roeder
106
“Me either,” said Krista. “Let’s go.”
It was a short walk to the massive haunted house, and the line wasn’t too terri-
bly long this time. We only had a ten-minute wait until we were seated inside a
car and passing through massive wooden doors into the Mansion itself.
We were plunged into darkness. Even though the light outside was dim and
the waiting area was even more shadowy, it still took my eyes a moment to adjust.
We were slowly passing through a huge parlor with heavy antique furniture and
cobwebs everywhere. The only light came from candles, and it gave the room an
eerie glow. I jerked slightly in fear as creepy organ music began to play. The next
moment the parlor was crowded with blue-gray ghosts of every description danc-
ing right through the furniture. The specters were transparent. I could see
straight through them, yet they looked so real.
Far too soon our car took us beyond the parlor and we found ourselves in a
cavernous kitchen. Everywhere our eyes turned there was something to startle or
frighten. A black cat screamed as it jumped down almost on top of us and bats
flew past, so close I could swear I felt their wings. A bubbling caldron sat on the
stove, emitting a livid, green glow. Was that a head I saw sitting in the center of
the table?
We exited through doors and found ourselves outside for a few moments,
where we could better see the exterior of the mansion. It towered above us, dom-
inating our view, dwarfing us in our little car as if it were a living thing that might
squash us with its immense weight. The Graymoor Mansion was the perfect mix of
spooky delight and real fear.
Inside once more, we were taken through room after room: a library with
thousands of books, some of which moved through the air on their own; a mas-
sive landing where a ghost-boy in a nightshirt bolted up wide stairs with a fright-
ening ax-wielding phantom in pursuit; a dining room where ghosts ate a lavish
dinner on a huge table, talking and laughing as if they still lived; a bedroom
where the boy on the stair was hacked to death before our very eyes. It was so real
I flinched, fearing blood would splatter upon us. We passed through one room
after another, each more fascinating than the last, until we found ourselves at the
beginning once more and exited the ride.
“Now that was worth the wait,” I said. “I’m going to have to ride that again
and again.”
“Same here,” said Krista, taking my arm.
We spent the next hour walking around the park, holding hands and occa-
sionally stopping to kiss. Mr. Meadows was tending white roses near one of the
cemeteries as we neared and we stopped to talk with him. Tending roses at night
Mark A. Roeder
107
might seem odd, but the lighting was such in Phantom World that some parts
were lit up like day even in the night.
I’d grown to love the old man. His voice was comforting and I felt as if I had a
grandfather I could talk to at any time right there in the park. Krista loved him
too. She never failed to give him a hug when they parted.
We rode the merry-go-round and the old time cars. I felt as if I were in a
dream of beautiful swirling lights, wondrous scents and music. It was all so
romantic and beautiful. I felt as if I’d never known happiness before.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Krista dropped me off after our date. I stayed outside a while on the front
porch, watching the stars. Krista made me feel things I’d never felt before. If I’d
known dating would make me feel this good, I’d have tried for a girl much ear-
lier. It was as if the whole world had changed around me, or was it me who had
changed?
I heard voices inside. Gene was here again. He was quickly becoming a regular
fixture in our home. I sighed and went inside.
Mom and Gene were sitting side by side on the couch, their hips and shoul-
ders touching. It was odd seeing them sit together like that, like teenagers on a
date.
“How was your day, son?” asked Gene, as if he were my dad.
Like I’d told Eddie, it didn’t bother me that Gene might be taking my dad’s
place, because there was no one to replace. Dad had left a long time ago, by
choice. Still, I didn’t like this stranger calling me son. I was on the verge of telling
him off when Mom turned to me and smiled. She was happy. I wasn’t going to
take that away from her. I ignored Gene and said, “Hey, Mom.”
Gene smiled at me, but it seemed all fake. I don’t like you, I thought. Some-
thing about him just rubbed me the wrong way.
The phone rang. I wondered if it was Krista calling to say goodnight. I walked
into the kitchen so I could have some privacy and answered it there.
“Hello?”
“Hey, man, it’s Kerry.”
“Oh, hey.”
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Nothing. I just got back from a date with your sister.”
“Ah, so you’ll be going to your room to jerk it, huh?”
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108
“Uh…” As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’d planned, but I wasn’t going
to tell him that.
“I was calling to see if you wanted to hang out. There’s nothing going on
around here.”
“Um, well. Okay, I guess.” I had to be at work in the morning, but I wasn’t
tired and it wasn’t late.
“I’ll pick you up at your house.”
“Sure.”
“See ya in a few,” said Kerry and hung up before I had the chance to give him
directions. I guessed he’d get them from Krista or call back.
I was still wearing my Phantom World outfit, so I ran upstairs and changed
into jeans and a wife-beater. The night had turned warm and humid and the tank
top would give me some air. I put on some fresh deodorant and waited for Kerry
to arrive. He was not long in coming.
A horn honked outside and I walked to Kerry’s vintage Camaro. It had been a
sweet car once, I was sure, but it looked as if it’d seen better days. It was hard to
see by the light of a street lamp, but I could tell it needed a paint job. When I
hopped inside, I noted the vinyl was split in a few places and the carpet was worn
through on the front floorboard. It had a certain appeal to it, however, and I
wouldn’t have minding having it for my own.
“Hey, man,” said Kerry as he pulled out into the street. “How’s Sis been treat-
ing ya?”
“She’s great,” I said.
“You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m just messin’ with ya, Orlando. Loosen up.”
Kerry fiddled with the dial on the radio, trying to find something decent. At
last he stopped on a station playing music I didn’t recognize. “Linkin Park,” said
Kerry, by way of explanation.
We drove around aimlessly with the windows down. Kerry’s car apparently
didn’t have air conditioning.
“Damn, I’m sweatin’ right through this shirt.” Kerry was wearing a
wife-beater just like me. “Hey, you wanna go swimming?”
“It’s almost 11 p.m.”
“So…we can drive out to my Grandma’s. She’s got this awesome little lake.
It’s not far.”
“Won’t she mind?”
Mark A. Roeder
109
“Nah, she won’t even know we’re there and wouldn’t care if she did. I go out
there and swim at night all the time.”
“Well, okay, I guess.”
Kerry didn’t say more for a bit, but drove us toward the country. I envied the
freedom he had—owning his own car.
He was right; his grandmother’s place probably wasn’t five miles out of town.
We were soon driving up a long, winding, gravel drive and then onto a grassy
road that ran past an old barn. Kerry drove on for a bit more and then stopped.
“We walk from here,” he said, getting out.
I followed him away from the Camaro, toward a small lake where the moon-
light glittered like diamonds on the surface. It was still cloudy, but there were
breaks that allowed the moon to appear from time to time.
Kerry stripped off his shirt, his bare torso looking pale in the moonlight. He
wasted no time shoving down his jeans as well, and I noticed he wasn’t wearing
anything underneath. I pulled off my shirt more slowly, then unbuckled my belt,
and pushed down my own jeans. Kerry stood there waiting for me for a moment,
then ran and dived into the lake, whooping and hollering. I self-consciously took
off my boxers, although it was just Kerry and me, and he wasn’t likely to see
much in the darkness. The moon was hidden behind the clouds again and I could
barely see.
I waded into the lake. It was warm, but felt refreshingly cool when compared
to the humid heat of the night. Kerry was swimming out in the depths, diving
under and then reappearing again moments later some way off. When I was waist
high, he dove under and didn’t come up again for several seconds. Just when I
began to get a little panicky, thinking he might be drowning, he popped up again
on the far edge of the lake.
“How do you do that?” I shouted across the lake.
“Swim team,” Kerry yelled back and dove under once more. This time, he
came up almost on top of me.
I was now abdomen high in the water. I’d never skinny-dipped before and the
sensation of the water flowing around my genitals was exhilarating. It made me
feel sexy, too.
“So, you’re on the swim team, huh?”
“Yeah, swim team and wrestling. I haven’t been wrestling very long, though.”
“Cool.”
“You do any sports?” asked Kerry.
“Can’t. I have to work to help out Mom. During the school year my evenings
and nights are spent flipping burgers or sacking groceries.”
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110
“That sucks, man.”
“It’s okay. You do what you gotta do.”
“Yeah.”
The moon broke free of the clouds again and Kerry’s bare chest was revealed
in the moonlight. His torso was long and sleek. The same firm muscle I’d noted
in his arms at the park was evident in his chest and abs. He had the lean look of a
swimmer, but also had some of the heavier muscle mass of a wrestler. He looked
particularly strong in the chest, as if he did a lot of bench presses.
Kerry gave me his patented, minimal smile that, this time, seemed to indicate
he knew he was stronger and tougher than I was. I felt a little inferior standing
there before him. My torso was lean and not so muscular. My chest was definitely
not as well developed as his and my arms didn’t bulge as much either. Kerry
peered at me as if sensing weakness.
“Time for diving practice,” said Kerry, wading out of the lake and climbing to
the shore.
I watched as he walked away, his bare butt revealed as he exited the water. It
looked muscular, too—taut and rounded. Kerry walked a few steps down the
shore and then stretched his arms overhead and to the side as if he were a profes-
sional diver. It gave me a clear view of his stuff and I had the feeling he was inten-
tionally showing off. From what I could see in the moonlight, Kerry had a big
dick—bigger than mine for sure. I was just over five and a half inches and I’d
always felt a little inadequate. His balls hung lower than mine, too, clearly visible
beneath his long shaft.
Kerry looked into my eyes with a serious expression—as if he’d caught me
checking him out, which he had—as if he hadn’t been putting his manhood on
display, which he’d clearly been doing. Was he baiting me?
Kerry dove under the surface of the lake and came up sputtering a few feet
away. Water flowed down over his muscular body in the moonlight. He waded
toward me, that same serious expression on his face. I didn’t want him to get too
near. He couldn’t see under the water, but if he got close enough he could feel.
Kerry had done something to me. I tried to calm my breath. I was shaking. I
wanted to bolt from the scene, but I couldn’t leave the dark waters that concealed
my secret.
“Wanna wrestle?” asked Kerry.
“No.”
“Ah, come on.”
“No!”
Mark A. Roeder
111
Kerry flashed me his barest grin again. This time it was more knowing than
ever.
“Let’s just swim, okay?” I asked.
He nodded his head, not taking his eyes from mine until I dove past him into
the lake and began to swim across its surface. Kerry followed in an instant, swim-
ming by my side. I was thankful for the concealing darkness of the water.
It took several long minutes before I felt it was safe to leave the lake. When I
did, I waded to the shore, shook the water out of my hair as best I could, and
raked it off my body with my hands. I quickly slipped on my boxers and jeans,
afraid of losing control again.
Kerry followed more slowly and stood near me. He used his shirt to dry him-
self, but made no move to dress. My eyes trailed to the point of danger between
his legs. His manhood had stiffened and lengthened. Kerry was much bigger than
I was. I pulled my eyes from his groin, and Kerry snared them with his own and
held them. We stood there in silence. My heart pounded so furiously in my chest
I feared Kerry could hear it, or see it. I slipped on my shirt to hide my bare chest
and to keep myself from staring at Kerry’s nakedness.
Kerry ran his hand down his torso, stopping just before reaching his man-
hood. It made my own swell in my jeans.
“Um, listen…I need to go home. It’s getting late and I have to get up early.
Mom will get worried if I’m out too late.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay, Orlando?” said Kerry in what seemed to me
a rather seductive voice. I felt my face growing hot. I was glad he couldn’t see me
clearly. “Um…yeah. I really need to get going.”
Kerry slowly dressed, first pulling on his jeans and then his wife-beater. We
walked back to the Camaro in silence. Neither of us said a word as he drove back
to town, but my heart and mind were racing. What had he done to me? Kerry
pulled up in front of my house, and I opened the door. Just before I scooted out,
he grasped my forearm.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said and then let me go.
- 112 -
Toby
I had no word from Spike for two whole days. I’d just decided he was indeed
being kept away from his computer when I received an e-mail asking me to meet
him online at ten p.m.
I was relieved. The e-mail I’d received after our planned, but failed, meeting
had set my mind at ease about Spike’s reason for not showing up, but I still
wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t playing games with me. I’d feared he’d lied
about being grounded and would simply disappear from my life.
Almost as soon as I’d cut the connection after reading Spike’s e-mail, the
phone rang. I picked it up and an unfamiliar voice said, “Hello, is Toby there?”
“I’m Toby,” I said, wondering whom I was talking to. It was a boy’s voice, but
I didn’t have a clue as to who it was.
“Hi. I hope you don’t mind me calling. It’s Spike.”
Spike! I was beyond surprised. I’d given him my number, but I never expected
him to call. A boy who wouldn’t even tell me his real name didn’t seem likely to
call me. I found myself wishing we had caller ID.
“Oh, hey.”
“Um, I just wanted to make sure we’re on for tonight. I was afraid you
wouldn’t get my e-mail. I really want to talk to you.”
“I got it. So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Tonight, Toby, I can’t stay on the phone. I’m not supposed to call anyone.”
“Oh, okay then.”
“I’ll talk to you at ten,” said Spike and hung up without a word more.
Mark A. Roeder
113
I looked to the top of the stairs, and Mackenzie and Billy were standing there
watching me. I wondered how much they’d heard. They couldn’t make much
out from just my end of the short conversation, however, so I guess it didn’t mat-
ter.
“Who was that?” asked Mackenzie.
“None of your business.”
“Ohhh, got a girlfriend, Toby?” teased Mac.
“Or a boyfriend,” laughed Billy. It cracked Mackenzie up.
“Shut up, you two.”
Mackenzie stuck out his tongue at me and he and Billy returned to whatever
they were doing. I suspected they were once again working out with the Bowflex
since both of them were shirtless and kind of sweaty.
I followed them upstairs and pretended I needed to get a book from the top of
my dresser. It was a ruse so I could check out Billy’s muscles. I made sure to have
trouble finding the book. Billy was a jerk, but he had a nice bod. I’d been think-
ing about his body more and more since I’d seen him shirtless the time before.
He sure wasn’t boyfriend material. The mere thought made me laugh, but it
didn’t hurt to do a little fantasizing. I took gleeful pleasure in using Billy’s body
in my mind for my own purposes. If he had any idea of the fantasies I spun about
him, he would’ve been furious. It was all safely locked away in my own mind,
however. How odd it was, I thought, that I fantasized so much about someone I
wouldn’t touch in real life. Well, I would touch him, but I’d never date him.
I had plenty of fantasies about C.T. and Spike, either of whom I’d touch or
date for sure if I got the chance. My thoughts were still turned toward having a
boyfriend, but I did have needs—needs that hadn’t been met once in the sixteen
years of my life! Something had to give soon. Whacking it was a guilty pleasure of
mine, but I wanted something real, something mere fantasy couldn’t give me.
Billy departed about 9:30, still shirtless. He walked right past where I was sit-
ting on the couch, and I used the opportunity to drink in the sight of his nice
muscles, again storing up images for my own purposes. He sneered at me as he
passed, but said nothing. I was glad to see him go, because I didn’t want any
interruptions when the time came to chat with Spike. My brother was still
around, of course, but he rarely came downstairs unless it was to leave the house
entirely or raid the kitchen.
Ten p.m. finally came and when it did I was already on Gay.com waiting.
Spike appeared almost exactly on time.
“Hey, man,” he typed.
“Hey.”
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114
“Listen, I’m real sorry about the other night, but it wasn’t my fault. Well, it
was, but it was my parents who grounded me. I tried to get them to postpone my
punishment and start it the next day, but no dice.”
“It’s okay. I was bummed out, but I understand.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re not mad, because I really like you and I think you’re
real cute.”
“Me? Cute? I don’t think so.”
“I do.”
“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, LOL.”
“LOL, but seriously, you are cute. When we meet next time, I wanna do
stuff.”
“Like what?” I was getting excited. I was glad no one else was in the room,
even though they couldn’t have seen anything if they were.
“I want to kiss you,” typed Spike. “And, I want to do a lot more.”
“Let’s meet real soon.”
“I’m grounded for a few more days yet.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Me either. I keep looking at your pics, especially the shirtless one. They’re
driving me crazy.”
“Yours are driving me crazy!” I typed.
“Let’s meet tonight.”
“But you’re grounded.”
“Dude, I wanna meet you so bad.”
“Won’t your parents know you’re sneaking away in the car?”
“They go to bed early. I can coast it down the hill before I start it. I’ve done it
before.”
“I want to meet you, but I don’t want you getting in more trouble.”
“I won’t get caught, don’t worry. So, can you meet me?”
I thought for a moment. I wasn’t supposed to go out so late, but Mom and
Dad never checked to see if we were in our room when we went to bed. The only
problem would be Mackenzie. He wouldn’t squeal, but he might grill me about
where I’d been when I got back. I’d have to make up something to tell him.
“Yeah, okay.”
“The Grove, again?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll meet you there at eleven, okay?”
“Sure.”
“I’m gonna get off here and get ready.”
Mark A. Roeder
115
“Ok, see ya soon.”
“Bye.”
Spike disappeared. I felt a nervous knot in my gut. I wasn’t used to breaking
rules. I wanted to meet Spike, though, and this was my chance.
The Grove wasn’t all that far, but it would take a while getting there in the
dark. I hung around downstairs for a while as the minutes passed. Time crawled
by. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I made sure the coast was clear, and then
slipped out the front door, locking it behind me. I prayed Mom or Dad wouldn’t
want me for anything before bedtime. It would be just my luck if they went to
the room I shared with Mackenzie and discovered I was missing.
I silently wheeled my Trek out of the garage, climbed on, and pedaled down
the street. It was too bad I didn’t have a car, but a bike was stealthy. As I rode
through town, I pretended I was a spy sneaking through enemy territory. It was
partly cloudy and the moon kept disappearing and reappearing, casting all about
me in alternating blue light and shadow.
As I neared the edge of town my thoughts turned completely to Spike. I was
gonna do something with him. I wasn’t going to be shy. I was just going to do it.
When we’d talked awhile, I was going to lean in and kiss him, right on the lips,
unless he kissed me first. I was kind of hoping he’d do that, because that would
take the pressure off me. Still, I was gonna be prepared. I was going to kiss him
and then I’d see what else I had the courage to do. I had yearning thoughts about
what was in Spike’s pants.
My nervousness over meeting Spike was edged with fear. I hoped I didn’t
pedal into The Grove to find some drug deal going down. At the very least,
there’d be some high-school kids there making out and probably doing a whole
lot more—if the stories were true, at any rate. Spike and I would have to find
somewhere to be alone. The woods would do. It was sure dark under the trees.
I’d just ridden my bike under the eaves of the forest and was following the dirt
road back into the woods. I could barely see.
Before long, I had to get off my bike and walk it. It was just too dark to ride.
There were too many ruts. I looked at my watch, the face glowing blue: still
plenty of time, no need to hurry. I wished I could get my heart to stop beating so
fast. It was racing. I grinned in the darkness. I couldn’t believe it. I was gonna do
it. I was gonna meet another gay boy at last and we were gonna do things.
I sensed swift movement off to my right. As I turned my head toward it, some-
one caught me around the chest and shoved me down. My bike fell, landing on
my leg. It hurt.
“Gotcha! Well, well, well, who do we have here? If it isn’t Toby.”
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116
“Billy, get off!” I said. Shit, what was he doing here?
“What are you doing, fag? Come to watch kids do it? Gonna jerk it while you
watch guys with their girls? You pervert.”
“What are you doing here?”
“That’s none of your business, queer.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“Oh, what are you going to do about it? Huh?” We’d arisen to our feet and
Billy was poking me painfully in the chest. There wasn’t much I could do about
it. He was bigger than I was, even if he was younger.
“That’s what I thought, queer!”
“I’m…I’m not a queer,” I said.
“You’re as queer as they come. What about all those pics of guys on your wall?
What’s up with that if you aren’t queer? And you think I don’t notice you drool-
ing over my bod?”
I clamped my mouth shut. What was I supposed to say to that?
“Huh? Do you?” Billy was pushing me around, just daring me to swing at
him. I knew better. If I did, he’d kick my ass for sure.
“Leave me alone.” The seconds were ticking by. What if Spike drove up and
saw Billy bullying me. Would he jump out and save me, be my knight in shining
armor? Or, would he think I was a pathetic little loser and just leave me to my
fate and dump me?
“You don’t leave me alone, do you?” said Billy. “You just keep looking. I can’t
take off my shirt without getting your drool on me. Someone’s gotta teach you a
lesson.”
I made a desperate dive for my bike, but Billy tackled me around the midsec-
tion and took me down. I was stunned by his fist hitting my face. I’d always
known Billy was bad news, but somehow I’d never thought he’d hit me, not
really, even when I was fearing it. He hit me again and I cried out in pain. I tried
to pound on him with my fists. Tried, I say, because he caught my wrists and
squeezed them painfully. His eyes lit up with glee and he sat on my stomach and
punched me in the jaw, and then the eye. I counted each blow as it landed—
three, four, five. Mercifully, he stopped and stared down into my face.
“I bet you get off on this, don’t you, queer? You sick little perv. You just think
about this the next time you see me, and keep your eyes to yourself.”
“Please, don’t hurt me,” my voice sounded weak and pathetic in my ears.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” Billy mocked. “You want some more? Don’t you?”
Mark A. Roeder
117
Billy cocked his fist back for another punch, but someone caught his arm and
jerked him bodily off me. I rolled onto my side, groaning from the pain. I could
taste blood in my mouth.
“Are you okay?” It was a girl’s voice, one I didn’t recognize.
Had I been rescued by a girl? But, no, I could hear the sounds of a scuffle. I
heard a punch land and Billy groan in pain. Then, a male voice said, “Get out of
here, punk, and don’t let me catch you picking on him again or I’ll beat your
ass!”
I didn’t recognize the guy’s voice either, but in moments he was leaning over
me, just like the girl.
“Hey, you work at the park,” he said.
“Yeah,” I groaned.
I recognized him then as my head cleared. I didn’t know his name, but I’d
seen him at Phantom World.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
“I think so.”
Strong hands gripped on either side of my chest and pulled me to my feet.
“I’m Avery,” said my rescuer.
“Toby,” I said. “Thanks for saving my butt.”
“I was just in the right place at the right time.”
I looked at Avery. He was handsome and had a sort of threatening look to
him, but I obviously had no need to fear him.
“This is Nicole,” he said, introducing the girl, who was no doubt his girl-
friend. Why else would they be at The Grove together?
Nicole was running her hands over my body, checking to make sure I wasn’t
badly hurt. It was something my mother would’ve done if she was there. It made
me feel better. I was about to cry.
“We’ll take you home,” said Avery. “That your bike?” he said.
I nodded. Avery grabbed it by the handlebars and pushed it along the dirt
road, deeper into The Grove, as Nicole wrapped an arm around my shoulder and
guided me up the lane.
“The car’s up ahead,” she said. “We were taking a little late-night stroll when
we saw, or rather heard, what was going on.”
I leaned into her a little, her presence comforting. I looked around as we
entered the clearing, but Avery’s car was the only one in sight. Spike hadn’t
arrived yet. I felt like I should stay, but I was afraid to wait there alone, afraid
Billy would return. I couldn’t exactly ask Avery and Nicole to stay with me,
Mark A. Roeder
118
either. What was I gonna do, ask them if they’d wait with me for a boy I hoped to
have sex with?
They put my bike in the trunk, and Nicole put me in the front seat between
her and Avery, as if protecting me. I put my hand to my face and winced. I knew
I was gonna have a black eye the next day. How was I supposed to explain that to
Mom and Dad? I wasn’t going to worry about that just now. I was just glad to be
safe.
Before I knew it, I was home. I had Avery drop me off just a little down the
street because I didn’t want my parents to awaken. I thanked Avery and Nicole
and then waited until they were out of sight before pushing my bike home and
slipping into the house.
- 119 -
Mackenzie
I was awakened by the bathroom light. I couldn’t see the alarm clock from my
bed, but I knew it was late. Except for the small shaft of light coming from the
crack in the bathroom door, the bedroom I shared with my brother was veiled in
inky blackness. I got up, adjusted my boxers that’d wrinkled up and twisted in
my sleep and peeked into the bathroom.
“Shit, Toby, what happened?”
A bruise was beginning to form around Toby’s eye, and he was dabbing at the
side of his mouth with a wet washcloth.
“Shhhh! Keep it down or you’ll wake Mom and Dad.”
“Okay,” I said in a whisper, “what happened?”
“I got jumped.”
“By whom?”
“The friendly neighborhood thugs. I dunno who…it was dark. There were
three of them.”
“What were you doing out so late?”
“Never mind that. I’m not telling you, so don’t bothering asking again. Listen,
Mackenzie, I need your help. I’m gonna leave early in the morning, so Mom and
Dad won’t see my face. I want you to tell them that I said I had to go into work
early. Then, I’m going to pretend this happened on the way to work,” said Toby,
pointing to his face. “If they see me like this before I get a chance to get out, I’ll
have to explain and I’ll be in trouble.”
I nearly said: And what’s that to me? You deserve to be the one in trouble for a
change. But Toby was hurt; some guys had jumped him and beat him up. My
Mark A. Roeder
120
brother and I didn’t get along all that well, but I did care about him. Besides, I
kinda owed him after setting him up to meet Spike. I still remembered the tears
in his eyes.
“Please, Mackenzie, just do this one thing for me. Don’t let on that I got beat
up until after I come home from work. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Toby grinned. “Thanks, Mackenzie.”
I went back to bed wondering just what Toby was doing out so late at night. It
wasn’t like him. I wondered why he’d been jumped, too. Our town wasn’t exactly
known for danger. Maybe some guys thought he was a fag or something and
decided to work him over for that. Toby didn’t look like a queer, but he was into
theatre, he liked to read, and he was a boy-band freak. Even without knowing
what I did about Toby, I could see where guys would peg him as gay. I became
nervous as I thought about it. What if he started getting teased and picked on all
the time? That wouldn’t be cool. I wasn’t exactly eager to be known as the guy
with a queer brother. Guys would give me a hard time. I knew this would happen
sooner or later, I thought. You can’t be as weird as Toby for so many years without
something bad happening.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“Toby got beat up last night,” I said, as I walked along the side of the road
with Billy.
“Really? He say who did it?”
“He told me three guys jumped him. He didn’t know ’em, or, at least he said
he didn’t. He wouldn’t say much about it.”
“I bet he bawled like a baby.”
“Nah, but maybe we’d better take it easy on him for a while.”
“Ah, come on! Are you going soft on me, Mackenzie?”
Billy’s disapproving gaze was upon me—the one that said you aren’t cool. I
think I feared that look more than anything.
“No, it’s just…I just think we ought to be careful about messing with his feel-
ings. You know how sensitive he is, and now he’s had his ass kicked. He’s not like
you and me. If one of us got beat up, we’d just shrug it off and go on, but Toby
will think about it.”
“Hey, that’s his problem. He thinks too much. When did you become his
protector anyway?”
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“Listen! I have to live in the same room with him. I don’t want to have to lis-
ten to him blubbering all the time, okay?” I was feeling hostile.
“Okay. Okay. Just relax, Mac. I’ll just talk to him online—see if I can find out
stuff for ya: insurance like we talked about. I won’t do anything to upset him.
Hell, just for you, I’ll even try to make it fun for him, okay?”
“Yeah, all right.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled. Now, whatcha wanna do?”
“I dunno, man.”
“Wanna hitchhike somewhere? Maybe some babe will pick us up and we’ll
score like last time.”
“Like that’s ever gonna happen again,” I said.
“It happened once, it could again. Damn that was hot. I just wish she
would’ve let us fuck her.”
I’d been thinking a lot about what happened with Mandy, and I don’t mean
just replaying it over and over in my head and jacking to it. Part of what hap-
pened disturbed me.
“Billy, about Mandy…when we were with her and she wanted us to kiss…” I
paused. I wasn’t quite sure how to form my words. I didn’t want to piss Billy off.
“You kissed me just to get Mandy right?”
“Of course, dumb-ass. Couldn’t you tell? If we’d refused, it would’ve been
over right then and there.”
“I just…”
“What?” asked Billy, angrily.
“Never mind.”
“No! What? Say it!”
Billy had turned toward me, his fists clinched, his muscles flexing. I was afraid
of him just then.
“I just…I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to kiss you, I mean, but you
seemed…”
“Dude, I’m gonna be real pissed here in a second if you start talking like you
think I’m some kind of fag. Yeah, I wanted you to kiss me because I wanted
Mandy. That was the price, dude. Get it? Us kissing each other was the ticket
that bought us a ride on Mandy. Understand? Fuck, you’re like your brother.
You think too damned much. Don’t make such a big fucking deal out of it. No
one’s ever going to know what happened. So we kissed? We’re not fags. We did it
for Mandy!”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
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“You’re damned right I’m right.” Billy paused. “You didn’t…like it or some-
thing did you?” he asked.
“No!”
“Okay, then. Enough said.”
Billy stuck his thumb out at a passing car that kept right on going. He glared
at it. It took us forty-five minutes to get a ride and that was with some old guy
who smelled like broccoli. We rode with him a few miles up the road until he
reached his turnoff. Then, we spent another half hour before we got another ride
that took us back where we started. It was NOT an exciting time.
- 123 -
Orlando
I’ll be waiting. That’s what he’d said. Those words filled my mind, echoing off
the insides of my skull. I lay in bed, clad only in boxers, with my fingers inter-
linked behind my head. What had happened? What had Kerry done to me?
I could still see him in my mind: Kerry with that ever so slight, knowing smile;
Kerry naked; Kerry beckoning me to join him in…who knew what?
You know, Orlando, you aren’t that naïve, I thought to myself.
The image of Kerry’s naked body filled my mind—his chest, his tight abdo-
men, his butt, his…My groin stirred with my thoughts. I had an overpowering
urge to whack myself off, but I fought it. Not this time, I told myself. This is dif-
ferent. This wasn’t like all the times I’d stroked myself while thinking about girls.
No, this wasn’t like that at all.
Where were these feelings coming from? They couldn’t have just appeared out
of thin air and yet, that’s what it felt like. It was as if Kerry had bewitched me,
cast some sort of spell upon me that drew me to him.
I searched my mind. This was a time to be honest with myself. This was a time
when I had to look in the mirror without flinching, without trying to delude
myself or lie to myself. Such powerful emotions and desires as I was feeling
couldn’t possibly just spring up out of nothingness, so they must’ve come from
somewhere. Had this been buried deep inside me all along? Had it remained hid-
den or dormant, just waiting to come out?
My attraction to girls was real, of that there was no doubt. How many times
had the sight of a hot babe nearly driven me to insanity with desire, lust, and
longing? There was an emotional link there, too, like with Krista. I had feelings
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for her that weren’t based on mere physical need. I hadn’t been fooling myself
about girls so there was no need to debate it. My manhood was like a yardstick of
attraction, and it stood at full attention when I thought of girls. But now, it’d
done the same with a boy, with Kerry. When I was in the lake with him, I’d been
as hard as I’d ever been around a girl. Kerry was definitely no girl, so what the
fuck was up?
Had this happened to me before? Was there some episode in my past that I’d
blocked from my mind for self-preservation? I concentrated hard on remember-
ing, striving to dredge up memories of being excited by boys. I’d had plenty of
guys as friends. I’d spent loads of time with them. But, I couldn’t recall being
attracted to them. I liked to wrestle with other boys. Did that mean anything? I
liked the struggle, the feel of resistance, and the power of my own muscles, but
did this constitute sexual attraction?
I did know a good-looking boy from a not-so-good-looking one, but did that
really mean anything? So, I recognized that some boys were handsome. Couldn’t
all guys tell the difference? I’d heard some boys being cruelly teased because their
ears stuck out, their nose was too big or they were just plain ugly. Surely, the guys
teasing them had some sense of male beauty.
There were guys I admired—actors, musicians, and athletes and even some
guys at school. Some of that admiration was based on looks, particularly muscles.
My own build was okay, but I didn’t have the thick muscles of some of my class-
mates. I admired them for their muscles, because being stronger was something I
aspired to, but did that admiration mean more than it seemed?
I couldn’t recall having a single crush on a boy, although I could remember
plenty of crushes on girls. Could I have successfully blocked all such memories? It
seemed unlikely. I didn’t want to be gay. I didn’t want to be sexually attracted to
other boys. But, I was sincerely trying to be honest with myself, and I wasn’t
turning up any past evidence of queerness.
I’d thumbed through Men’s Fitness and magazines like it, but I hadn’t ogled
the models. I’d looked at them and thought: That’s how I want to look. I’d desired
not their bodies, but for my body to look like theirs. Weren’t most guys like that?
If that was being gay, than just about every boy out there was queer.
I thought of my closest, most intimate friendships with boys, but none of
them crossed the line. I’d slept in the same bed with other boys and even in the
tight quarters of the same sleeping bag. I couldn’t recall any attraction, nor the
least yearning. There was just no evidence I was queer—none.
I’d been friends with Eddie forever. I loved him, I really did, but it wasn’t
romantic love. It was friendship love. I’d seen him without a shirt more times
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than I could count. I’d seen him naked quite a few times, too, but I couldn’t
remember any sexual attraction. I just didn’t think of him like that. If I was
queer, wouldn’t something have come out of that closeness? Nothing seemed to
add up.
But what about Kerry? I’d experienced an attraction to him, an attraction so
powerful that just an hour before I’d come to a razor’s edge of just pouncing on
him. As he stood there, so inviting, he had no idea how close I was to giving in to
my desires. I was poised on the brink. I nearly, very nearly, reached out and
grasped his dick. That’s what I wanted, that and more. I wanted to sink to my
knees before him and…
It was far too disturbing to think about. This honesty was too intense. I
couldn’t just let it lie, however. The emotions, the yearnings and the desires
Kerry had drawn out of me were real and I had to deal with them. I’d wanted
him—that was for sure. I still did. That’s what disturbed me. Seemingly, from
out of nowhere, came an overpowering desire to have sex with Kerry, to do every-
thing imaginable with him. How could it be so, however? There was no denying
the attraction, the desire, the pure animal lust, but where did it come from?
Was my own virginity the answer? Had my sexual needs been pent up for so
long that they surged forth at the appearance of the first willing partner? Kerry
was willing. He intentionally tempted me. He flaunted himself in front of me
and he’d been doing it since the moment we met. I realized that now. I’ll be wait-
ing. Had my subconscious seen the green light and pushed me ahead, even
though Kerry was a male? I had plenty of questions, but no answers. I had the
feeling that several years of psychoanalysis would bring me no closer to a conclu-
sion.
I couldn’t think about it anymore. I just couldn’t. I closed my eyes and tried
to sleep, but I tossed and turned. It was hours before I finally lost consciousness.
In the morning, I awoke with my boxers stuck to my crotch. I’ll be waiting.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
The merry-go-round went around and around, in a never-ending circle, not
unlike my own thoughts. Toby was laughing with Krista over some joke I’d been
too preoccupied to hear. I was glad to be in Phantom World. Work was a distrac-
tion, a reality that forced my thoughts outward, at least part of the time. I needed
to escape from my own mind, and my job lent me aid.
“Lunch vote,” said Krista. “What does everyone want to eat?”
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126
“Chicken nuggets,” announced Toby without thinking. “I love that
honey-mustard sauce.”
“Orlando?”
“Huh? Oh, that sounds good.”
Krista peered at me, a concerned look gliding across her features.
“I could go for that, so I guess chicken nuggets it is,” she said.
“Yes!” said Toby.
I looked at Toby. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t noticed his
face. His right eye was blackened and he had a bruise on his cheek.
“Dude, what happened to you?” I asked.
“Fight,” he said. “You should see the other guy.”
“What was it about?”
Toby hesitated. “It was about Krista. I said she was the prettiest girl in the
world, and the other guy, well, he said she was only the second prettiest.”
“Awww,” said Krista, mussing his hair.
Did Toby have a crush on my girlfriend? I suspected it more than ever. I had
no worries there, however, as Krista had already told me she thought of Toby as a
little brother.
Brother. When Krista looked at me, I saw her brother. They looked too much
alike, but then again, they were twins. It was almost as if he were inside of her,
peering at me through her eyes, but how could he be when he was so firmly
planted inside my own head?
“Are you okay?” asked Krista.
“Yeah, just a little…distracted. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
I wondered if she knew I’d been out with Kerry, but surely he wouldn’t have
told her. She said nothing about it, so I figured not.
I looked at Toby. He seemed in good spirits for someone who’d recently been
beaten up, but then again, I’d been pounded a couple of times with no lingering
effects. Or maybe he was just putting up a brave front. Now that I thought about
it, his humor did seem a little forced.
I had too much on my mind to worry about Toby. The sight of Krista was a
firm reminder of my troubles. How could I possibly be attracted to Kerry, her
very own brother? How could I have been thinking about having sex with him
when I was dating his sister? It was nearly incestuous. Was I going out of my
mind?
I was falling for Krista hard and fast. I really was. Did I love her? I wasn’t quite
sure. I didn’t know enough about love to be certain. I loved the time I spent with
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127
her. I loved kissing her. Just looking at her made me happy, and it aroused me
too. How could I even think about her brother when I felt this way about her?
Life wasn’t like the movies. In films, there were the good guys and the bad
guys. Sometimes the bad guys acted like the good guys, or some twist in the plot
made the good guys appear to be bad for a while, but in the end it was all pretty
black and white. I was in some kind of weird gray area that wasn’t even supposed
to exist. I was a nice guy, really, so how could I be having the thoughts I was hav-
ing? For the first time in my life I had a girl I really cared about. How could I
even consider getting it on with her brother? It was crazy.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Kerry, or myself. How could I be gay? Okay, I
guess the term was bi, since I obviously liked girls, but still…everyone knew what
gay guys were like: They were soft, weak, girl-like. That wasn’t me. Maybe I was
different because I was bi, if that’s what I was. Maybe bi guys kind of fell in
between gay and straight guys. Maybe their mannerisms weren’t as pronounced. I
felt like screaming. There were way too many questions in my head.
Krista gave me a reassuring kiss on the way to lunch a couple of hours later.
She took my hand and held it. Toby eyed us, but didn’t say anything. If he was
jealous, he was dealing with it. That was a good thing. I didn’t need more com-
plications in my life.
Kerry showed up while we were feasting on chicken nuggets. His eyes locked
meaningfully onto mine. I felt his spell ensnaring me. I had the strongest urge to
get up and kiss him, right there in front of Krista, Toby, and everyone. Kerry
pierced me with his eyes. He knew what he was doing to me. He knew it. He was
the Devil and I had to resist him. The trouble was I didn’t know if I had the will-
power.
I’ll be waiting.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Gene’s truck was parked outside once more when I got home from work. I
was neither thrilled nor surprised. He was always around. The more time I spent
with him, the less I liked him. I kept my trap shut about it, however, because
Mom obviously saw something in him or she wouldn’t be dating him. What that
something was, I couldn’t begin to guess.
Mom had been alone for a long time. I knew what it felt like to be lonely. I
had friends, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. Eddie was always there for me, in
a way, but even he wasn’t enough. I felt the need for more intimate companion-
ship and I knew that’s what Mom felt, too. Mom had friends—and me—but she
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needed something more: a soul mate. I felt guilty for thinking it, but I sure hoped
it didn’t turn out to be Gene.
Gene was sprawled out on the couch like he owned the place. It ticked me off,
but was I being fair? If Eddie was lying there in exactly the same way, I wouldn’t
have thought anything about it. Maybe I needed to try to be a little more objec-
tive.
“Hi,” said Gene.
“Hey.”
I made for the stairs, but Gene grabbed my wrist as I walked past. I didn’t like
it, but I didn’t say anything.
“How are things going with that girlfriend of yours, Karen, Carmen?”
“Krista,” I corrected. Gee, did Mom tell him everything?
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Things are going just fine with her.”
“Maybe we should have a little talk.”
“A talk?” I asked.
“Yeah, your Mom tells me you haven’t dated before. There’s some…”
“Quit trying to act like my dad,” I said. Gene was pissing me off.
“You need to start showing me a little respect, boy.”
“You need to earn it.”
Gene didn’t like that at all. He was ugly when he got angry. He was all smiles
around Mom, but his mask was slipping in front of me.
“Listen, when I marry your Mom, I’m going to be your dad, whether you like
it or not. Things are going to change around here. Your mother lets you get away
with murder. If you expect to have an allowance or…”
“I make my own money, thanks.”
“I don’t like your attitude,” said Gene. His face contorted into a snarl.
“And I don’t like yours!”
“Don’t raise your voice to me!”
“I’ll raise my voice if I damned well please!”
Gene grabbed my wrist again. Anger filled his eyes and he was breathing kind
of hard.
“Get your hands off me!” I shouted, trying to push him away.
That’s when he hit me. He actually punched me in the face. It surprised me.
Instead of hitting him back, I just stood there looking at him blankly. Mom had
come out of the kitchen by that time, too, no doubt worried about us shouting at
each other. I didn’t know how long she’d been there. I shot Gene a look and
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stomped up the stairs. I slammed the door to my room and threw myself on my
bed.
I was steaming. My jaw hurt where Gene had belted me, but the fact that he’d
actually hit me is what pissed me off. I would’ve laid into him, even though he
was bigger and would no doubt have kicked my butt, but I didn’t want to put
Mom through that. The last thing she needed to see was her son and boyfriend in
a fist fight.
There was a knock at my door after a few minutes.
“Orlando, may I come in?”
It was Mom.
“Yeah.”
I sat up on the bed as she opened the door.
“Are you all right, honey?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to…”
“Shhhh,” she said, putting a finger over my lips. “Gene’s gone. I asked him to
leave.”
“Leave?”
“Yes, leave and not come back. I won’t have a man around who is going to
treat my son like that.”
“I don’t want you to give him up on my account. I know you need someone,
Mom.”
“I don’t need someone like that. There’s no excuse for such violence.”
Mom took my chin in her hand and moved my head around while she looked
at my face.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. It didn’t hurt that much. I was more shocked than anything. I didn’t
think he’d just up and belt me.”
Mom pulled me to her and held me.
“I’m sorry I messed things up for you,” I said, almost crying because I knew
how lonely Mom got.
“Hey, you didn’t mess up anything. You did me a favor. I would have found
out about his temper sooner or later, and sooner is better. I don’t want a man
who loses control so easily.”
“I wish you could find someone nice,” I said.
“Me too, baby, but nice guys are hard to come by. That’s why you’re going to
be quite a catch for some girl. Not only are you talented and the most handsome
boy in the world, you’re also sweet and kind.”
I laughed. “I think you’re biased, Mom.”
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130
“Of course I am. I’m your mother. Now, why don’t you come down and help
me eat the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn I just spent an hour prepar-
ing. We can’t let it go to waste. There’s apple pie, too.”
I smiled and hugged Mom again.
“I love you,” I said. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I love you, too, Orlando. And I want the same for you.”
I followed her down to the kitchen, feeling better about everything, except my
attraction to Kerry.
- 131 -
Toby
I considered telling Mackenzie it was his buddy, Billy, who jumped me and beat
the crap out of me, but I didn’t want to have to explain what I was doing at The
Grove. I had to live in the very same room as my little brother, and I didn’t want
him freaking out because I was gay. For all I knew, he might think I was checking
him out or something. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth, but that
wouldn’t stop him from thinking it. He might tell Mom and Dad, too, and I just
wasn’t ready for my parents to know that about me. They’d go through the roof
for sure if they knew I’d gone to meet someone off the internet.
I was already at Phantom World before it dawned on me I should’ve e-mailed
Spike with an apology. He’d snuck out while grounded, putting himself at risk of
getting in further trouble, and I’d stood him up. I had good reason, of course, but
that still didn’t mean he wasn’t sitting there in his car for a long time waiting on
me. I was almost glad he stood me up the first time, as it would be harder for him
to be mad at me about this one. I’d e-mail him with an apology as soon as I got
home.
Billy. He really pissed me off. I sure didn’t enjoy getting my butt kicked, but
he’d also kept me from Spike. Oddly enough, that’s what upset me the most. I
had plans for Spike. I felt like I’d been waiting to meet another gay boy forever,
and Billy screwed it up. I wished Avery had kicked his ass. At least he gave him
one good punch and from the sound of Billy’s groan, it was in the stomach. It
served him right, but he should’ve gotten more.
I was kind of afraid Billy would come after me again, but he could hardly beat
me up in my own house. My parents were usually there and if he tried something
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like that he’d be banned for life. I was safe at work, too, because there were so
many people around, and there was security. I doubted he’d go to the trouble of
ambushing me, so the only real danger was in meeting up with him somewhere
isolated when I was alone. That wasn’t likely. What happened at The Grove was a
freak accident. I also took some comfort from the defense plan I’d thought up. It
was simple and almost foolproof. I just wish I would’ve thought of it when he
jumped me. If Billy came after me again I was gonna kick him right in the nuts,
and I was gonna do it as hard as I could. I didn’t care if it meant he could never
have kids. His kind didn’t need to reproduce anyway.
I had lunch with Krista and Orlando. They were reading Robert Frost poems
to each other. It was kind of sappy, really, and I felt a bit embarrassed for them,
but they were happy, so who really cared? I did kind of like Nothing Gold Can
Stay when Orlando read it. It was kind of sad and hopeful at the same time. It
was sad, because it basically said that nothing lasts, especially good things, but
then it’s talking about the dawn, which will come again tomorrow, even though
the poem doesn’t mention that. So, even though good stuff doesn’t last, there’s
always more to come, so that’s what made me think the poem was hopeful, as
well as sad. I wondered what tomorrow, or later today for that matter, held for
me.
After lunch, we each went our separate ways. Krista was scheduled to work in
the donut booth, and Orlando was handling cotton candy. I was assigned to the
Phantom World Railroad where I’d started out my career in the park.
I heard the sound of the steam whistle even before I drew near. There was
quite a line at the station, but each car held a number of people, so the wait prob-
ably wouldn’t be too bad. That didn’t really matter all that much to me, since I
wasn’t going to be riding anyway. I’d barely started my shift when C.T. came
running up, all out of breath, dragging another park employee I didn’t know
behind him.
“Toby, come on! Come with me!”
“I’m just starting my shift.”
“This is Jake. He’s off the rest of the day. He’s filling in for you.”
“What? Why? What’s going on?”
“Just trust me. Come on!”
C.T. literally dragged me off the station platform, much to the amusement of
the guests. He pulled me most of the way across the park to the amphitheatre
near the Ghost Pirates ride. As we drew closer, I could hear loud and familiar
music playing. Lots of people were headed for the amphitheatre. It seemed like
almost everyone in the park was rushing toward it.
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133
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I listened some more. There was no
doubt.
“That’s Phantom!” I cried.
“Yes!”
“They’re really here?”
“Yes! I was just going on my lunch break and I heard Misunderstanding. I
knew it was them!”
“Shit. Were they supposed to be here?”
“No one said anything.”
Thanks to our staff shirts, we went around back and walked right up to the
backstage area. I felt weak in the knees.
“Oh, my God!” I said to C.T. “It’s him!”
I couldn’t believe it; Jordan was standing there, singing, not twenty feet away.
Mainly, I was looking at his back, but I could see the side of his face, too. He was
beautiful.
I just stood there in a trance as I listened. All my worries, fears, and doubts
fled from me. I forgot about Orlando turning out to be straight. I forgot about
Billy beating me. I forgot about everything. I felt like I was floating on air. I guess
Robert Frost was right.
“I didn’t think they’d sound this good in person,” said C.T. “Most groups
don’t; everything’s fixed in a studio.”
“Jordan’s the best singer in the whole world,” I said.
“Now there’s an unbiased opinion,” giggled C.T.
I could see Kieran playing his guitar on the other side of the stage. I wished I
had half his talent. Ross was closest to me, about six feet away. I could practically
reach out and touch him. He even looked back in my direction once and smiled
at me! I about melted. My eyes were on Jordan most of the time. He played his
keyboard and sang like an angel. He was the most beautiful young man I’d ever
seen in my entire life. There was a lot more to people than their looks, but I
could’ve just stood there and gazed at him forever.
I desperately wanted to meet Jordan and maybe get his autograph, but after
Phantom finished their last song, Do You Know That I Love You, all three of them
headed off stage in the opposite direction.
“Ross!” yelled C.T.
Ross turned and actually walked toward us. I was almost speechless.
“Oh my God!” I said. “I love your music.”
“Thanks, dude,” said Ross, flicking the hair out of his face.
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I got all tongue-tied, but managed to blurt out, “Can you have my auto-
graph?” I felt like a fool, but Ross laughed. C.T. handed him a Sharpie, and Ross
signed one of his drumsticks and gave it to me. He gave the other one to C.T.
“Sorry guys, but I have to run. My ride’s leaving,” said Ross. He turned and
hurried to catch up to Jordan and Kieran. A grim-looking man with dark sun-
glasses followed him. He must’ve been his bodyguard.
“I told you to trust me,” said C.T. smiling.
I grabbed him and hugged him. I very nearly kissed him.
“Thanks so much. C.T.! You made my life!”
“Ohhh, does that make you my slave now?”
“Yes!” I was so elated I thought I could fly.
“Hey, I’ve got to get back to work. I’m due at the bumper cars in five min-
utes,” said C.T.
“I’ll walk with you,” I said. I had plenty of free time, since I’d traded with
Jake. I’d have to see when he wanted me to cover for him. He was another one I
owed big-time.
C.T. and I walked along talking excitedly, clutching our drumsticks in our
hands. C.T. seemed almost as excited as I was, which was a near impossibility.
“Not that I’m complaining, not in the least,” I said, “but if only I could’ve
met Jordan; that’s like my life-long dream.”
“Hey,” said a vaguely familiar voice behind me.
I turned and recognized the owner of the voice immediately.
“Hey, Avery.” I smiled broadly, remembering how Avery saved my butt.
“Hey,” said C.T.
“Avery, this is C.T,” I said. They shook hands.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” said Avery, “but I overheard what you said
about meeting Jordan.”
“Yeah?” I said, feeling just a touch embarrassed. Avery probably thought I was
some obsessed kid, which maybe I was.
“If you’d really like to meet him, I can arrange it.”
“Funny!” I said.
“No, really.”
Avery appeared to be sincere, but it seemed almost impossible.
“You know Jordan?”
“Yeah, he’s kind of a friend of a friend. I actually know Ross better. Anyway,
I’m going out to see Ross tonight, and Jordan will be there, so if you’d like to
come…”
“Oh my God, you aren’t really serious are you?” I asked.
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“Of course I’m serious.”
“I’d LOVE to come. Can C.T. come, too?”
“Sure, but don’t invite anyone else, I don’t drive a bus.”
I simply could not believe it. This day just kept getting better and better. If I
would’ve known this was coming, I’d have been smiling last night as Billy was
beating me.
“When do you get off?” asked Avery.
“I’m off now,” I said.
“I get off at five,” said C.T.
“Great. Can you guys meet me in the employee lounge a little after five then?”
“Sure thing. You are serious, right?” I asked again. “This isn’t come kind of
joke?”
“I’m serious. I wouldn’t mess with you about something like this.”
“Awesome!”
“Cool, I gotta run, but I’ll see you then.” Avery trotted away, quickly leaving
us behind.
My head was spinning. I simply could not believe it.
C.T. took the path to the bumper cars. I walked around just a bit and then
rode my bike home. I sent Spike an e-mail explaining why I’d stood him up. I
apologized and asked him to forgive me. I also told him I wouldn’t be online that
night because I was going to be doing something. I didn’t tell him what, because
I didn’t think he would’ve believed me.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I was all shaky with nerves as I sat beside Avery in his teal Chevy S-10. C.T.
was on my other side and we were a little scrunched in. I couldn’t believe I was
on my way to meet Jordan. I was actually going to be in the same room with him.
I was actually going to get to talk to him. He’d be looking at me with those beau-
tiful blue-green eyes of his. How many times had I peered at those eyes? How
many hundreds of Phantom photos had I gazed at over the years? And now, those
eyes would be looking back at me. It seemed unreal.
Jordan was bigger than life. He was a rock star. He was the rock star. He was
someone you saw on TV, not in person, and I was going to be hanging out with
him. It was too good to be true. I had no reason not to trust Avery, but a little
part of my mind still feared this was all some horrible joke. Either that or I was
dreaming; that was the real danger. I’d had some Jordan dreams before. In one,
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I’d actually kissed him. I loved those dreams, but it was always such a disappoint-
ment to wake up. Please, please let this be real, I silently prayed.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.
“To a farm, it’s owned by the parents of Jordan’s boyfriend. They’re all stay-
ing there for a couple of days.”
“Cool. Is it far?”
“Not far at all.”
In just a few minutes, we were following a winding, gravel drive up to a large,
two-story farmhouse. There was a pickup sitting outside as well as a big Buick
LeSabre, but there was nothing to indicate rock stars were in the old house. I
scooted out of the truck nervously and followed Avery up the walk.
We walked around the back of the house and entered the kitchen. An older
couple greeted us. They weren’t real old, probably in their 40s or 50s and I
guessed they were Ralph’s parents. I’d read about Ralph, Jordan’s long-time boy-
friend. I’d always thought it was cool he was from my area, but I never knew
exactly where he lived.
I saw Kieran first. He walked into the kitchen and greeted Avery. There was
no doubt about it, Avery knew Phantom. It kind of blew my mind. Avery intro-
duced C.T. and me to Kieran. I felt a shiver pass up my spine as I shook Kieran’s
hand. It was suddenly hard to speak, but I did manage to tell him I loved his
music. He was so nice to us it put me at ease.
“Hey, I could use some hot tea,” said a voice approaching from the next room.
I recognized it. Oh, God, it was him!
In moments, he’d stepped into the kitchen and I just stared. He was wearing a
white tank-top and sleek black Umbros. I’d never seen such a sexy guy in all my
life. He was absolutely beautiful. The mere sight of his long, blond hair made my
heart race. There was some conversation between Jordan and Ralph’s mom, and
then he and Avery were talking, but the words were all jumbled in my mind.
Before I knew it, Avery was introducing Jordan to C.T. and me.
C.T. smiled and shook his hand, looking all cool and calm. I was a nervous
wreck. I was trembling so violently I was sure everyone could see it. I know Jor-
dan could feel it when I reached out to shake his hand.
I finally managed to make my voice work,” Hi, I’m…I’m…” I couldn’t
believe it. I’d actually forgotten my own name. I seriously couldn’t remember it. I
was overwhelmed. Jordan gazed at me with those beautiful eyes of his. Everything
went kind of dark and I felt myself falling.
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I opened my eyes with no idea how much time had passed. Everything was
blurry for a few moments. I was seated at the kitchen table. Someone was holding
a wet washcloth to my forehead. I looked up to see who it was and it was him.
Embarrassment flooded me. Had I really passed out? I looked around. The
room had cleared out. It was only Jordan, Ralph’s mom and me. I covered my
face with my hands and mumbled, “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” said Jordan. “It’s okay.”
I lowered my hands. Jordan was looking at me with concern on his face.
“I’m Toby,” I said, finally remembering my name.
“It’s nice to meet you, Toby.”
“So, am I the first person to ever pass out when he met you?”
“Actually, no,” Jordan grinned. That made me feel a little better.
Ralph’s mom gave me a cup of hot maple tea. It helped to calm my nerves. I
was still kind of shaky being so close to Jordan.
“I love your music,” I said. “Sometimes, when I get really sad, I can listen to it,
and it makes me feel good. I’ve got all your CDs. I want to be a singer myself—
not like in a rock band, but in musicals and stuff. I like acting in plays. I’m think-
ing I want to go to school for theatre. I love performing, being someone else for a
little while.”
“I’d like to do some acting,” said Jordan. “I think that would be totally cool. I
don’t think I have the talent to act, though.”
“But, I’ve seen you on some shows, and you were good!”
Jordan laughed. “Well, those are just little appearances and I’m usually play-
ing myself, so there’s not much acting involved.”
Jordan sat down near me and we talked and sipped tea. Jordan was really nice.
C.T., Avery, and Kieran returned and joined us at the table. Mercifully, none of
them mentioned me passing out. What really struck me as I sat there was that
Jordan and Kieran talked just like real people. I mean, I know they’re real, but we
got to talking about stuff like playing Roller Coaster Tycoon and stuff like that. I
expected them to talk about stuff like…I dunno…hanging out with movie stars
and buying helicopters or something like that. They seemed so normal.
Jordan was really big into Roller Coaster Tycoon, which was kind of funny since
he owned his own amusement park.
“Hey, Jordan,” I said, “did you buy Mystic Gardens and turn it into Phantom
World because you liked playing Roller Coaster Tycoon so much?”
“Well, kind of. We bought it, actually, Kieran, Ross, and I. I’ve always loved
amusement parks and I found out Mystic Gardens was going under. It seemed
such a shame. Ralph had taken me there, and it was a blast. The owners were
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practically begging for someone to step in and save it. I got to thinking about it
and thought, what the heck?”
Ralph entered the room, hugged Jordan from behind, and gave him a peck on
the cheek. Avery introduced us. Ralph seemed really nice, but almost too plain to
be Jordan’s boyfriend. I’m not knocking him, but you’d think a rock star would
date someone glamorous, some actor or someone. I liked Jordan better for not
dating someone like that. I admired him for choosing an Indiana farm boy,
instead of some movie star. It said a lot about him. After all, Jordan could’ve had
anyone he wanted, I’m sure. Hell, I think straight guys would’ve dated Jordan.
Two more guys came into the room. They were college age, like Avery. He
introduced them. Their names were Sean and Nick. I watched them some as we
all sat there talking. They were leaning against the kitchen cabinets, and Sean had
his arm around Nick’s waist. There was no doubt about it. They were a couple.
“How’re Ethan and Nathan doing?” asked Jordan.
“They’re getting along just fine,” said Sean. “We’re really busy. Nick and I
almost couldn’t get away to come down and see you guys.”
I didn’t know any of the people they were talking about, but that was okay.
The house vibrated with the sound of someone thundering down the stairs,
yelling “I’m having a pie attack!”
“Brace yourself,” said Kieran. “You’re about to experience Ross.”
I grinned. He said it like Ross was a hurricane, which I soon learned wasn’t so
very far from the truth. In moments, Ross came bolting into the kitchen. He slid
across the floor in his sock covered feet to announce, “I’m starving!”
“There’s some apple and some pecan pie on the counter,” said Ralph’s mom,
unperturbed.
“Ohhh, fresh meat!” said Ross, looking at C.T. and me. “You guys play Risk?”
“Um, yeah,” I said. Ross kind of shocked me with the way he just started in,
skipping all the introductions. Of course, he had met us briefly at the park, but I
doubted he even remembered us. He probably met thousands of people. Ross
had a mischievous glint in his eye that made me smile.
“Oh yeah!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “After I’m done with pie, we
gotta play!”
“Ross is on another Risk binge,” said Kieran. “This happens every few weeks.
Just humor him.”
Ross shot Kieran a mischievous glance, but said nothing. He looked like he
was ready to explode with excess energy. I’d always wondered if his public per-
sonality wasn’t all just an act, but it was obviously quite real. If anything, he was
wilder in person. Ross was a nut.
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If anyone had told me a week before that I’d be sitting around a kitchen table
playing Risk with Phantom, I’d have thought they were out of their minds, but
that’s just what we did. They were ruthless players. Ross weakened me to the
point of annihilation and then forced me to be his ally. He tried the same with
Kieran, but he wouldn’t bow to the will of Ross, so Ross destroyed him. I giggled
at the way Ross gleefully taunted Kieran and wickedly chuckled. He was totally
into the game. Jordan, Ralph, Sean, Nick, and C.T. allied themselves and
pounded Ross without mercy. Rather than face their wrath, I turned on Ross and
helped to destroy him. When he was wiped out, he fell to the floor pretending to
have a knife in his back. He jumped up laughing and proceeded to sow the seeds
of discord among the remaining players.
It was Ralph who won. He took me out with relative ease and then turned on
his boyfriend. They might love each other, but Ralph and Jordan had no mercy
on one another in the game. It was fun to see Ralph yell, “In your face!” at Jordan
as he ripped up his empire. Sean and Nick held out longer, but Ralph was too
powerful, and they fell to him as well. He smiled gleefully when he’d wiped us all
off the board.
C.T. and I got a chance to talk to Jordan all by ourselves for a while. Ralph
was sitting there with us, too, but he didn’t seem to mind sharing his boyfriend.
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” said C.T., “but you seem more
normal than I was expecting.”
Jordan laughed.
“What were you expecting?”
“I dunno. It’s kind cool to find out you’re not that different from us.”
“Well, I am from the same planet,” said Jordan.
“That’s debatable!” yelled Ross from the living room.
“Shut up, Ross!”
The sound of Ross laughing wafted into the kitchen.
“I think what he means is that we see you on TV, doing talk shows and stuff
like that,” I said. “I guess I kind of think of you as always doing that kind of
thing, instead of playing Risk, or whatever.”
“Well, even though we do a lot of appearances, that’s just a tiny part of our
lives. When you think about it, less than 1% of our lives is spent in front of a TV
camera. That’s the part you see, so that’s what you think we do. Most of the time
Ross, Kieran, and I are working on new songs. Sometimes we’re in the recording
studio, but most of our time is spent sitting in a room together working on lyrics
and everything else that goes into a song. When we’re touring, we travel con-
stantly, but even that’s only a few months out of the year, and we don’t tour
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every year. I guess our lives aren’t quite normal, but they’re really not that differ-
ent.”
We sat around talking for a long time. Eventually, the whole household was
sitting around the kitchen table talking about music, Phantom World, and every-
thing else under the sun. It was the best night of my entire life. I planned to go
home and write down everything about it before I had the chance to forget it.
Before we left, the guys signed photos for C.T. and me. I even got to hug Jordan.
“I can die happy now,” I told C.T. as we left.
- 141 -
Mackenzie
I was getting bored with the whole Toby/Spike thing. It was fun for a while, but
then the new wore off. I felt bad about what we’d done to Toby, too. I didn’t
mind making fun of him or calling him names to his face, but I wasn’t out to
hurt his feelings by making him think he had some kind of boyfriend when he
didn’t. Billy was all for continuing, however. I don’t know what the big deal was
with him talking to my brother on the internet. It wasn’t that fun. I would’ve
thought Billy would tire of it faster than I had, but he seemed to find it irresist-
ibly entertaining. Sometimes, it was all he’d talk about. I was getting tired of
hearing about my brother, but I didn’t want to say anything to Billy. If I did, he
might think I was no longer cool.
Billy was my ticket in. He was in at school, so if he was my friend, I’d be in
too. I didn’t want to be like my brother, a virtual social outcast. Toby didn’t even
seem to know it, but he wasn’t cool. There was something wrong with him. He
didn’t follow the rules. He wasn’t into sports and he wasn’t into girls. Sure, he
was gay, but he could’ve at least pretended. Not acting like he was interested in
girls was just asking for trouble. That’s probably why he’d been jumped. Of all
people, Toby needed to put up a front. Being in all those plays and singing were
enough to make anyone doubt his sexual orientation. Toby had lots of friends
who were girls, but he was like one of ’em or something. He was a freak.
I was smarter than my brother. Even if I was a queer, I would’ve had the good
sense to hide it better. I wouldn’t be prancing around on some stage, and I
would’ve had a girlfriend for sure. I wasn’t gay, though, not in the least. There
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wasn’t a queer bone in my body. I guess Toby had sucked up all the queer genes
when he was born and that was fine by me.
Billy was the key to everything. Hell, he’d even got me my first time with a
girl, and a college girl at that! If I stuck with him, who knew what doors would
open for me? I’d always been liked well enough by the other guys, but had never
been quite able to make it over that line into true popularity. Billy could pull me
right over. If word got out that Toby was queer, I’d need Billy all the more. He
was the only thing that could save me from going down with my brother.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“You up for some fun?” asked Billy.
“Yeah,” I said.
Mom was baking some cookies as I stood in the kitchen, attached to the
phone.
“I mean some real fun—with a girl.”
“Really?”
“Would I lead you wrong?”
“So, who?” I asked. I carefully censored my conversation. I didn’t want Mom
hearing anything that might incriminate me.
“Tami Sterling.”
“Are you serious?” Tami Sterling was hot. When school ended, she’d been
dating Ben Hunter, the hotshot captain of the junior-varsity football team.
“Uh huh. I told her about what happened with Mandy, and it turned her on.”
“You told her?” I asked. “Everything?”
“Yes.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that.”
I looked nervously over at my mother, but she didn’t seem to be paying much
attention.
“Relax, dude, Tami will keep quiet.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” I wanted to go off on him, but I sure couldn’t
with Mom right there.
“Hey, I’m as much at risk as you are and I’m telling you, there’s no risk.
Tami’s cool.”
I was pissed. Billy had promised to keep what happened with us and Mandy a
secret and now he’d gone and blabbed it to Tami. What if she spread it around?
That’s just what I needed, word getting out that I’d kissed a boy. I’d be marked as
a queer, and it wouldn’t matter that I was totally innocent. I could just see it
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now. Word would get out that I’d kissed Billy and then Toby would be outed,
and everyone would assume we did it together. Barf!
I didn’t say anything, so Billy went on. “Listen, dude, we’re gonna score this
time. Tami wants to see us together, and she’ll do us both, man. I’m talking all
the way.”
All the way with Tami Sterling? The mere thought made my pants dance. I
turned away from Mom so she wouldn’t notice the bulge forming in my shorts.
“See us?” I asked, frowning. Billy’s words finally pierced my daydream of get-
ting it on with Tami.
“Yeah, like with Mandy. She wants to see some boy-on-boy action to get her
hot.”
“Dude, I dunno…”
“Come on, Mackenzie, it’s no big deal. You’ve done it before. It’ll be just like
last time, only this time we get more.”
The thought of Tami was powerfully tempting. She was hot. I’d had some
fantasies about her, but I never thought I’d get her. Word was she could be had,
but not by just anyone. She usually went for jocks.
“So, you in, dude? You gotta be in. Without you nothin’ is going down. She’s
made it clear. It’s either both of us or neither of us. Come on, man. You know
you want her.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay.” I knew it was a mistake, but my balls had taken com-
mand of my decision-making process. They were in full control.
“Okay, dude, I’ll be over in an hour and then we’ll go to Tami’s. Her parents
won’t be home for two whole days,” said Billy excitedly.
I hung up the phone and left the kitchen facing away from Mom. My shorts
were about to rip from the strain.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
My stomach did flip-flops as I sat on the couch beside Billy, across from Tami
Sterling. She was so incredible—sex on legs! She was about seventeen and had
beautiful brown hair and eyes. What I and every other boy noticed most about
her was her boobs. She had one of the biggest pair around. She made me drool.
She was talking with Billy about school, as if she hadn’t invited us over to have
sex. I was eager to get things started, mainly because I was so worked up I was
about to lose control in my shorts, but also because I was so nervous I thought I
might hurl. The whole thing about Billy and me having to do something before
Tami would sleep with us was just too much. Were all girls such freaks about
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watching boys make out? I thought it was only guys that got off on such things,
like two girls going at it. I could understand the attraction of that, so I guess I had
to acknowledge that two boys kissing might be hot to a girl. I figured it was some
kind of display of boy-ness or something like that.
Billy got up off the couch and sat on the arm of Tami’s chair. He leaned over
to kiss her, but she wasn’t having any of that. She pushed her hand against his
chest and kept him from getting near.
“I want to see some action first,” she said. She was very direct. I admired her
boldness. I would’ve never had the nerve. Then again, she was in complete con-
trol and she knew it.
Billy looked at me and shrugged and then joined me again on the couch, this
time facing me as I sat there looking at Tami. Man, she was hot. I slowly turned
my head and looked at Billy. He was gazing at me. He licked his lips.
“Okay,” said Tami, “let me see you two kiss.”
I hesitated, but Billy urged me on with his eyes. He seemed to be saying, ‘It
won’t be so bad. Just like last time, then we can have her.’
“We’re not gay,” I said, turning my head toward Tami. “You know that
right?”
“Relax, Mackenzie, I know what you really want,” she said seductively. I let
out a deep breath. She was driving me insane. Did all girls have that kind of
power over boys, or was it just Tami?
I faced Billy. I leaned in and closed my eyes, letting Billy do the work. I’d
devised a new plan on the way over. I was going to keep my eyes closed as much
as I could and pretend it was a girl I was kissing. I’d put Billy right out of my
mind and pretend I was already kissing Tami or maybe Mandy again.
I felt Billy’s lips touch mine. I felt the gentle suction as he kissed me. In a
moment, his lips were pressed against mine once more and I moved mine around
in response. I pictured Tami in my mind.
“Open your mouths,” said Tami. “I want to see some tongue action. God, this
is so hot.”
Billy forced his tongue into my mouth. I parted my lips reluctantly and slid
my tongue along his. Billy was leading me and that was best. That way, I didn’t
have to think about things so much. I kept pretending Billy was a girl and it
kinda worked. Reality kept slipping in, but mostly I kept up the illusion. It was
like when I whacked off and pretended a girl was blowing me.
Billy was kissing me hard. His tongue was all over the inside of my mouth. He
was breathing hard. I sort of was, too. I didn’t want to be kissing Billy, but it
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wasn’t all bad. I was getting off on Tami watching us. Something about that was
exciting.
“Take off your shirts, boys,” said Tami.
Billy slowly pulled my shirt over my head and I took his off for him. I had to
momentarily open my eyes while I was doing it and it was nearly a shock, seeing
Billy bare-chested before me instead of a girl. Billy had a hungry look in his eyes.
He was obviously turned on by Tami watching.
“Feel each other,” said Tami. “You’re my slave boys and you have to do what-
ever I tell you.”
This was getting kinky and I kind of liked it. I had no more interest in touch-
ing Billy than I had at the start, but Tami was getting me worked up. I’d fanta-
sized about being some girl’s slave boy before. It was part of my wild and kinky
side. If only it was Tami, me and another girl!
Billy ran his hands all over my chest and stomach. He was feeling my butt,
too. I touched his arms, chest, and stomach as well, but didn’t allow my fingers to
get anywhere near his more private parts. That would’ve ruined the illusion for
sure.
“Come on, Billy, you know what I want to see,” said Tami.
I felt him untying the string on my soccer shorts. I breathed faster with nerves.
Billy was going to see I was excited. What if he thought I was excited over him?
Would he tell me later we couldn’t be friends? When we were finished with
Tami, would he turn on me and call me a queer?
I peeked down at Billy’s crotch and saw that he was as stiff as he could get.
That made me feel safer. He could hardly accuse me when he was excited, too.
Besides, I was excited by Tami watching, and surely he understood that.
Billy pushed my shorts down and I leaned up so he could get them off. I was
sitting there in only my boxers, feeling completely naked already.
“Go on, Billy, do it,” said Tami.
I felt Billy grope me. He actually touched me, there. In spite of myself, I
moaned. No one, except for Mandy and myself, had ever touched be there before.
“Take it out.”
My mind reeled as Billy pushed my boxers down. Now I was naked. I wanted
to cover myself, but at the same time Tami watching had me totally turned on.
“Mackenzie, you do it too.”
I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. I
pushed down Billy’s shorts, only to discover he wasn’t wearing anything under-
neath. Tami commanded us to touch each other, so I did as I was told, even
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146
though I was screaming NO! inside my head. It was all just wrong. When was I
gonna get to touch Tami?
That’s when I heard Tami say, “I want to see you suck him.”
I kind of froze. This was going way too far. It was much worse than I’d imag-
ined and was getting worse by the moment. “Mackenzie, I want to watch you
blow Billy.”
My eyes popped open and I stood up. “No! No way!”
Billy said, “Mackenzie” in a long, sing-song kind of voice, as if saying, Come
on, go along with this, we’re almost there.
I couldn’t. Kissing Billy was bad enough. Touching him…down there was
worse. But this…this was where I drew the line. It was unthinkable.
“No! I’m not doing it. Nothing is worth that! It’s sick!”
Tami looked disappointed and Billy angry.
“Dude, you’re gonna blow this for us both,” he hissed, through clinched teeth.
“I don’t care, man. This is too much.”
Billy looked at Tami as if pleading with her to change the rules. She didn’t
look in the mood to do so. Billy was getting desperate. He must’ve wanted her
even worse than I thought.
“How ’bout if I do him?” he asked at last.
Tami mulled it over. “I guess…that would be okay.”
Billy looked at me and I shook my head. “No, man, this is too screwed up.”
“Come on,” said Billy, through clinched teeth once more. “If I’m willing, you
should be, too.”
I was keenly aware that I was standing there naked, my goods displayed for all
to see. I grabbed my boxers and pulled them on, falling down onto the couch in
the process. Billy kept saying, “Come on, Mackenzie,” as I pulled on my shorts
and shoes. I grabbed my shirt and headed for the door without another word. I
slammed it behind me.
What a disaster! Not only had I participated in what could only be called gay
sex, I hadn’t even gotten to touch Tami, and I’d blown my friendship with Billy.
All my work was down the tubes, and all I had to show for it were memories that
would probably take me a lifetime to erase. I felt like blowing my brains out.
I began the long walk home. When I got there, I was going to take a shower. I
was going to try and scrub all traces of what I’d done off me. I had the feeling
that no matter how hard I scrubbed, I’d never feel clean again.
The final embarrassment was that I was still excited. I’d found no release for
all that pent-up sexual energy. I needed to relieve the pressure, but I was afraid of
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147
doing so for fear of unwanted images entering my head. I’d never forget what had
just happened—never. It had probably ruined sex for me for the rest of my life.
- 148 -
Orlando
“Man, that blows,” said Eddie. I’d just told him what happened with Gene. “At
least he’s gone now.”
“Yeah, and my mom’s all alone again.”
“It’s not like that Gene was any good.”
“No, but I wish she could find someone, anyone. You know, just some guy
who would treat her nice and spend time with her.”
Eddie sighed.
“What’s the matter?”
“Beth. She dumped my ass.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. She threw me over for some college guy. She said it was nothing
against me. Yeah, right! There’s not a girl out there who wants me.”
“They say there’s someone for everyone.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve got Krista.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t have anyone before her. Think about it, if I can get a
girl, surely you can.”
Eddie laughed feebly at my attempt at humor.
“I’m just gettin’ real tired of bein’ alone,” said Eddie. “You’re a lot of fun and
all, but I need somethin’ only a girl can give me.”
“Like sex?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant. I know you think I’m just a big
horn-dog, but I have feelings ya know?”
“I know,” I said quietly.
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“It just kinda hurts thinking that there isn’t anyone out there who wants me.”
“I know this doesn’t help, but you’ll find someone.”
“Hey, you know what? It doesn’t help! But, thanks for tryin’, man.”
“No sweat.”
“I feel like getting high to forget about my troubles,” said Eddie.
He just sat there, not moving.
“I thought you said…”
“I get high for fun, not as an escape. I don’t want to end up like the old man,
always drunk off his ass.”
“Whoa, who would’ve thought? Eddie has self control.”
“Shut up, man. Of course I do. I’m not a burnout; I just play one on TV.”
We both laughed, but I could tell Eddie was really down. I hated seeing him
like that. I wanted to help him, but, as Krista was my first girl, I’d never been
dumped myself, so I didn’t have any worldly advice.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get in your Cutlass and cruise around town. We’ll
find you a hot babe.”
Eddie shook his head, but then smiled. “I guess it’s worth a try.”
“Of course it is. You’ve got a lot to offer.”
“Thanks, man.”
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
I sat with Krista on her front porch, the crickets serenading us with their song.
My arm was around her and I held her close. She’d asked me to come home with
her for supper. An internal battle had ensued, but the part of me fighting to say
yes won in the end. What reason could I give for saying no? I had a reason—a
huge reason, but I couldn’t voice it. What was I going to do: tell Krista I’d love to
come, but I can’t because I have the hots for your brother and he’s trying to seduce me?
I was nervous meeting Krista’s parents, but they took a liking to me. All went
well with them. It was Kerry who was the problem. He kept catching my eyes
and holding them, forcing me to look away. Each time I did, he smiled in tri-
umph. He knew I wanted him. It was some kind of game for him. I wondered if
this was what he did for fun. Did he set out to seduce boys just to see if he could?
Was I a special prize because I was dating his sister? Did he do the same thing to
girls, or was it just guys? I remembered the boy who’d almost come up to Kerry at
Phantom World and it made me wonder. Had Kerry played his game with him?
Mark A. Roeder
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Kerry played footsies with me during supper. He sat straight across from me
and rubbed my foot with his own. It aroused me instantly, and Kerry grinned at
me like he knew it. I kept my feet tucked back under the chair after a while.
Kerry reveled in my discomfort. He kept working little incriminating hints
into the conversation—nothing that really gave anything away, but things that
increased my fear he’d reveal my secret. He said stuff like, I hear you really like
swimming, Orlando; you find it stimulating, don’t you and so forth. I wanted to run
away and, at the same time, I wanted to jump across the table and kiss him. Why
was I so powerfully attracted to Kerry?
I began to fear he’d blackmail me: threaten that if I didn’t do something with
him he’d tell his sister. I doubted she’d believe him, though. I was being para-
noid. I was letting Kerry mess with my head.
Even sitting on the porch swing with Krista, I was aware of Kerry in the house.
I knew he was in there, probably up in his room, maybe even taking a shower.
Or, perhaps, he was on his bed, jerking it and thinking about me. The mere
thought made my heart race.
The phone rang inside and moments later Krista’s mom came out onto the
porch and handed Krista the phone. “It’s Elsie. She sounds upset.”
I could hear the sounds of crying on the other end of the phone. I didn’t know
who Elsie was, but she was truly worked up about something. Krista disappeared
inside for several moments and when she returned I heard her end the conversa-
tion with, “I’ll be over in just a minute.”
“Problem?” I asked.
“Yeah, Elsie, one of my friends. Her boyfriend just dumped her.”
“Oh,” I said. There seemed to be a lot of that going around.
“Listen, I need to go talk with her. She needs me. I can have Mom or Dad
drive you home, you don’t mind, do you?”
“I can drive him home,” said Kerry through the screen door. He’d appeared
out of nowhere. Krista eyed him suspiciously.
“Okay,” she said. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Before I could answer, she’d given me a peck on the lips and was walking
quickly down the street. Apparently, Elsie didn’t live far away.
“I’ll get my keys,” said Kerry grinning.
I must’ve looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car because that’s
exactly how I felt. I had half a mind to just get up and run, but part of me wasn’t
willing.
Kerry was back in moments. I’d hesitated too long. “Come on,” he said.
Mark A. Roeder
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He drove toward the outskirts of town. “This isn’t the way to my house,” I
said.
“I know.”
As he drove, Kerry reached over and put his hand on my leg. Part of me
wanted to jerk my leg away and part of me wanted to scoot closer.
“Kerry…” Whatever I meant to say died on my lips as Kerry began to move
his hand up and down my leg. I swallowed hard.
As his hand dipped to my inner thigh and continued rubbing, I finally man-
aged to make my voice work. “Kerry, stop.”
“You don’t want me to stop,” he said. He peered at me for a moment. In the
darkness, his eyes were like those of a tiger—no, like those of a wolf.
“Stop,” I said, but there was no strength behind the word. It was meaningless.
“Let’s see if you really want me to stop,” he said, sliding his hand right up on
my crotch. I don’t think I’d ever been harder.
“No, you don’t want me to stop, do you, Orlando?” He squeezed with his
hand. Kerry smiled. He knew he had me.
Kerry stopped the car in a deserted lane. I had no idea where we were. I hadn’t
been paying attention. He scooted toward me, pulled me to him, and pressed his
lips to mine. He kissed me and I kissed him back. It was as if a dam had burst.
We devoured each other, our tongues entwining. All willpower left me. I surren-
dered to him.
Kerry tugged at my shirt and ripped it over my head. I found myself pulling
his shirt off as well, revealing his bulging muscles. He pushed my head down and
I licked his chest. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like I had no control over my own
body.
I dove for his shorts. I impatiently pawed at them. Kerry held his hips up so I
could get them off him. Kerry was big. I lowered my head into his lap.
“Yeah, I knew you’d be a wild one,” croaked Kerry.
I barely heard him. I was too intent on fulfilling my own desires. Something
inside me had snapped. I just went for it. I’d never done it before, but I seemed to
instinctively know how.
After a few minutes, Kerry bucked in the seat a few times and moaned. I sat
back in the seat once more. Kerry reached over and put his hand on my crotch.
He drew it back smiling. He grinned at me. He knew I’d lost control while I was
doing him.
“Take me home,” I said, nearly in tears. Now that my lust had passed, the
spell was broken. Shame, remorse, and confusion fell on me like a heavy blanket,
shutting out all happiness and light.
- 152 -
Toby
I woke up smiling. I’d had the most incredible dream. It was like others I’d had
about Phantom, but it seemed so much more real. C.T. was in it this time and…I
looked over to my dresser. There was the photo that Jordan, Kieran, and Ross
had signed for me. It wasn’t a dream. Holy crap! It was real!
I stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I looked at myself in
the mirror while the steam began to fog it up. A bruised face with a black eye
stared back at me. I’d nearly forgotten. Phantom had wiped it from my mind.
Events couldn’t have been timelier. If Phantom hadn’t shown up at the park, I
would never have gotten to meet them. I’d probably have brooded over getting
jumped by Billy. As it was, I had little time to think on it. Was it that big of a
deal anyway? Billy was a jerk. I’d always known that. I just needed to make sure
he didn’t catch me alone. That was all. There was no need to think and worry
about it, so I wasn’t going to.
I stripped off my boxers and stepped into the shower. The hot water sure felt
good. I loved to get all soapy while hot water pounded down on me. I liked it so
hot I nearly couldn’t take it, even in the summer.
I showered, dried, dressed, grabbed a couple of donuts for breakfast and then
rode my bike to the amusement park. I couldn’t wait to tell Krista and Orlando
all about my night with Phantom. I wanted to talk to C.T., too, so I could relive
those wondrous hours. I felt like I’d achieved a dream.
At work, Orlando was strangely withdrawn and quiet. Even Krista couldn’t
draw him out. She kept trying, but it just wasn’t working.
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“I appreciate your concern,” Orlando finally told her, “but I’ve just got a lot
on my mind, that’s all. I just need to think.”
We allowed him his space.
“Guess who I was with last night,” I said.
“Who?” asked Krista.
“Phantom!”
“Um…” Krista didn’t quite know what to say. I think she didn’t believe me,
but was too polite to say so.
“Really! I’m not making it up! I swear! You know they were here yesterday,
right? Well, C.T. took me over to hear them sing, pulled me actually. I even got
to talk to Ross for a second, and he gave C.T. and me signed drumsticks. Then,
when C.T. and I were walking away, I was telling C.T. how badly I wanted to
meet Jordan. Avery—he works here—but I don’t think you know him, over-
heard me and he said he knew Phantom and could take me to meet them! Well,
he did! C.T. and I spent hours with them last night playing Risk and talking and
just hanging out. I got their autographs and everything, and I’ll show you!”
Krista laughed. “Don’t forget to breathe, Toby. That’s a wild story, but I
don’t think you could fake being so excited.”
My chest was heaving. I didn’t realize I’d given her such a rapid-fire, breathless
account until I’d finished. I was grinning from ear to ear.
“It was so incredible!” I said. “They were really nice, too—not like you’d
expect. They don’t act like rock stars at all, just like guys. Well, Ross acts crazy,
but that’s just how he is. He’s wild!”
Krista listened attentively so I kept going on and on while we worked the Old
Timers line. A lot of the guests were listening too. One asked, Was Phantom really
here yesterday? and another said, You are so lucky! My head was spinning as I tried
to recount every little detail I could remember. I was glad I’d written it all down
after coming home the night before, because I was already getting confused on
the order of events.
Orlando didn’t seem to hear me. I hoped he was okay. He just kind of looked
off into the distance. I had a good audience, though. It was wonderful being able
to tell Krista all about it. Stuff like that is so much better when shared.
Orlando was still quiet through lunch, although we did get him to talk a little.
He seemed very distracted, but maybe he was just having a bad day. That hap-
pened to me sometimes. Not every day could be awesome. I still felt sorry for
him, though, and hoped he’d soon be feeling better.
Mark A. Roeder
154
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“Tell me about the guy who jumped you,” typed Spike. It was nearing 11
p.m. and I’d just signed on to chat, as Spike had asked in his latest e-mail.
“He’s a friend of my brother—a total jerk. He’s been a dick since Mackenzie
started hanging out with him, but he’s never jumped me before. He kept acting
like he was doing it because I’d been checking him out.”
“Had you?”
“Well, kinda. Billy’s sort of hot. He’s got a nice body anyway. I get excited
when I see him without a shirt. It’s not like I just stare or anything. I just steal
looks at him when he isn’t paying attention. I have no idea how he could’ve
caught me at it. I’m real careful. Maybe he was just making it up, or maybe my
brother noticed and told him or somethin’.”
“So he’s hot, huh? Would you do him if you got the chance?”
“No way. He might have a nice bod, but he’s got the worst personality ever.
I’ve never met a bigger jerk in my life. He’s a bad influence on Mackenzie, too.
My brother wasn’t half as bad before he met Billy.”
“I dunno. Guys like that can be fun—good sex.”
“Whatever. You know, you’ve kind of changed.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we first started chatting, you were all into the idea of having a boy-
friend, being romantic and all that. Now, you just talk about sex.”
“Hey, I still want a boyfriend, but a guy’s got needs, you know? I’d love to be
dating some cool guy, but that’s hard to find. I’ll take just sex if I can get it until I
land someone.”
“How about us?”
“Well, man, I wanna meet. You oughta know that by now. We’ve just had bad
luck: first me getting grounded and then you getting jumped. Third time’s a
charm, though, right?”
“I’m kind of afraid to go back to The Grove. What if Billy’s there? I don’t
know what he was doing there the other night, so maybe it’s his hangout after
dark or somethin’. I don’t wanna be alone with him. If that college guy hadn’t
come along and saved my butt, Billy would’ve messed me up bad. He was just
gettin’ started.”
“We can meet earlier or something: some day when you aren’t working. I’ll
make it worth the risk, I promise. When we meet, even if we don’t hit it off, I’ll
blow you, man. How about that?”
Mark A. Roeder
155
I knew I shouldn’t be so easily tempted by the promise of sex, but the mere
mention of it was making me throb with anticipation. I was going to have to
whack it soon if Spike kept talking about it.
“That sounds good,” I typed, feeling a bit weak for doing so.
“Hey, you ever think about your brother?”
“What’d ya mean?”
“You know…does he ever turn you on?”
“Dude, that’s sick.”
“Come on, man. You can tell me. He’s a guy. He’s got all the parts. You ever
get hot for him?”
“No! He’s my brother.”
“So? If I had a brother, I might do something with him.”
“Not me. No way. That’s just…gross.”
I was beginning to wonder about Spike. The more I talked to him, the weirder
he became. Maybe weird wasn’t quite the right word. Maybe he was just becom-
ing more and more sexual. At first, we’d talked about lots of other stuff, but now
it was all sex. I was becoming disillusioned. Spike was turning out to be some-
thing other than I’d hoped. He no longer seemed like good boyfriend material.
Still, he had his attractions.
“Hey, want another pic of me? A nude one?”
“Yes,” I typed. I just couldn’t help myself.
“You gotta send me one of you.”
“I don’t have one.”
“You can get one, though, right?”
“I guess.” I could take one with dad’s digital camera when no one was around.
I didn’t know if I liked the idea of sending a naked picture of myself to someone,
but if he did it first…
“All right. If you promise you’ll take one and send it to me, I’ll send you one
of me right now.”
“Okay, I promise.”
“Just a sec.”
I waited while Spike attached his photo to an e-mail. I liked Spike’s pics. I had
four of them already. I especially like seeing him without a shirt. Some guys sent
fake pics of themselves, but I could tell Spike’s weren’t stolen from some porn site
or something. For one thing, he wasn’t showing as much as porn pics would’ve,
although the one he was sending would probably qualify.
“Sent.”
Mark A. Roeder
156
I checked my e-mail. Nothing. I checked it again. There was a message from
Spike.
“Got it, hold on.”
I clicked on the e-mail. Spike’s spiky hair came into view, followed by his cute
face. Next, his bare, nicely muscled chest was revealed, then his tight abs.
Mmmm, I sure liked the way he looked. More and more of the pic opened, until
there he was at last—in all his naked glory.
“Wow,” I typed.
“Thanx, man. If you want it, it’s yours when we meet. No pressure, but it’s
yours.”
“Mmmm,” I typed.
“So, when you want to meet?”
“On my next day off,” I typed, still under the influence of the pic. “I don’t
know when that will be, though.”
“I hope it’s soon. I want you.”
“Me, too.”
“If I was there right now, you know what I’d do?” typed Spike.
“Tell me.”
We’d never done it before, but Spike and I had cyber-sex. I couldn’t believe
how hot it was just typing what we’d like to do to and with each other. I couldn’t
believe some of the stuff I typed! I never thought I’d have the courage, but Spike
got me all worked up. He seemed to know just how to turn on my sex drive and
rev it up!
I didn’t get to finish, though. Mackenzie had to come downstairs at just the
wrong time. I was seconds away. I stuffed Little Toby back into my shorts and
typed gtg. It meant “Got to Go.” It was what Spike or I typed when we were
interrupted and had to sign off without warning.
“What you doin’?” asked Mackenzie mischievously.
“Nothin’.”
“Yeah, right! You’re up to something.”
“No, I’m not. I just finished going through my e-mail.”
“Cool, then let me on.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I still have stuff to do.”
“But you said you were finished.”
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“I just remembered…” I was getting flustered. The truth was I couldn’t stand
up. I hadn’t finished—not with cybering with Spike anyway and that much
would’ve been obvious if I got out of that chair.
“Lemme on!” said Mackenzie, nearly whining.
“Just go away!” I said loudly.
“What’s all this noise?” asked Dad, coming down the stairs.
“Toby’s hogging the computer!”
“I am not!”
“Isn’t it a little late for you two to be up?”
“Dad! It’s summer,” whined Mackenzie.
“To bed, young man!” said Dad. He looked at me. “It’s time you got to bed,
too. You’re a working man now.”
“Okay, Dad.”
It was interesting how quickly I went from boy to man and back again in my
father’s eyes. I was a boy when I was doing something he didn’t like and a man
when he wanted to lay a responsibility trip on me.
I stalled for a few more moments and adjusted myself as I got up. The bulge
wasn’t quite as noticeable, but I hurried past Dad just in case.
Whew! That was close, I thought when I made it into the bathroom. I was
going to finish off, but Mackenzie pounded on the door.
“What are you doing in there?”
Sometimes, I despised my little brother. I came out of the bathroom, pretend-
ing innocence, pulled off my shorts, and climbed into bed facing away from
Mackenzie. I was so worked up it was painful, but I knew I’d have to wait until
he fell asleep to take care of business. It never happened; I slipped off first and
dreamed about meeting Spike.
- 158 -
Mackenzie
“Mackenzie!” called Mom. “Phone! It’s Billy.”
I was halfway down the stairs when she said “Billy.” I jerked to a halt. Half of
me was excited he’d called, because I figured he’d never speak to me again. The
other half didn’t want to talk to him. It would only serve as a reminder of what
had happened. I was trying hard to forget.
My two halves were still fighting for dominance as I took the phone from
Mom.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hi,” said Billy. There was a long pause in which neither of us spoke. “We
need to talk.” I said nothing. “We need to talk, did you hear me?”
“I heard you.”
“So?”
“I guess.”
“Meet me in the park.”
Billy hung up without another word. I went back upstairs, put on my shoes,
and headed out.
Billy was waiting on me when I got there. I wasn’t looking forward to speak-
ing with him. The last time we’d been together, we’d seen each other naked; we’d
touched each other. I tried to shake the images from my mind.
“What was up with you?” asked Billy.
“With me?”
“Yeah. Five more minutes and we would’ve had Tami. She’d have been ours
all night long, man.”
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“Did she let you…”
“No! You ruined it! You know how long it took me to get her interested? She
goes out with seniors and college guys, dude! We’re fifteen. I had to promise her
we’d put on a show for her. She’s into that shit I guess.”
“Did she suggest it, or did you?” I asked.
“What are you trying to say, Mackenzie?” said Billy, standing over me. He was
without a shirt and his muscles were bulging as he tensed his fists at his sides.
“Nothin’,” I said. It wasn’t the truth. Billy seemed a little too willing to do
stuff with me.
“It was her idea, if you must know,” he said. “Fuck, Mackenzie, don’t you
want some ass? Huh? We could’ve had her, but you had to chicken out!”
“She wanted me to blow you!” I said. I wanted to yell it, but there were other
people in the park and I didn’t want anyone to overhear us.
“Dude, if you’d done it for like…two minutes, that probably would’ve been
enough, then we could’ve had her.”
“I’m not a fag.”
“Like I am? We discussed this shit before. I thought you understood. Doing
what Tami wanted was us buying our ticket to ride. Get it? Just like with Mandy.
Why do you always have to freak out over shit? I thought you were cool.”
“I’m not blowing no dude,” I said.
“Fuck, man, I even got her to say it would be okay if I blew you, and you
wouldn’t even go for that. Fuck!”
Billy put me on the defensive. He was acting like I was at fault—like I’d done
something wrong.
“How could you even think about doing that, Billy?”
“Oh grow up, Mackenzie. It’s not that big of a deal. Fuck, a lot of the jocks
jerk each other off when they get horny. That doesn’t make them gay. Hell, I’ve
heard some of ’em have even blown each other, just to get off when they can’t get
a girl. You know Mike Bradley? He’s on the varsity high-school team and him
and Chase Simmons have sucked each other off more than once. When they’re
between girlfriends and they’re real horny, they do it and they ain’t gay, man!”
“How do you know they do that?”
“’Cause Mike told me.”
“Why would he tell you?”
“Because I’m cool. Guys tell other guys stuff if they’re cool, but you wouldn’t
know about that.”
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I felt like I’d just been slapped in the face. I hoped my cheeks weren’t turning
red. I bit my lip. Suddenly, I felt like crying, but that sure wouldn’t make me
look cool. I glared at Billy.
“So see? You blew it with Tami for nothing! Worse, you blew it for me! We
were so close, man, and you had to be a little pussy.”
I found myself apologizing to Billy. I don’t know what made me do it. It was
like he had some kind of power over me. He’d done it before. Sometimes, I was
convinced he was in the wrong, but by the time he got done talking, it was my
fault. Maybe I had been stupid. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. It was just that
“fag” and “cocksucker” were such huge insults at school I thought anyone who
did that stuff was totally un-cool. I didn’t know there were rules about it. I didn’t
know there were times when it was okay. Sometimes, I didn’t want to grow up.
Everything was just too complicated. I wanted to go back to being fourteen when
everything was simple.
“So, am I forgiven?” I asked.
“Will ya give me a blow?” asked Billy. “Just kiddin’, man. Yeah, you’re for-
given, but fuckin’ grow up and don’t be such a pussy. You’re gonna have to get
yourself in shape before school starts ’cause I’m not covering for you all the time.”
I felt about two inches tall.
“Hey, don’t take it so hard. You take everything too seriously! You’re mostly
cool; otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang out with me. We’ve just gotta get rid of
your un-cool parts. It’s probably the influence of your queer brother. You can’t
be that close to queerness all your life without being affected by it.”
“Think Tami would give us another chance?” I asked.
“I dunno, man. I doubt it. She was plenty disappointed, and pissed. Maybe, if
I explained things…”
“You can blame me,” I said. “It was my fault. Next time, I’ll just do what she
asks, okay?” Were these words really coming out of my mouth?
“Yeah, well. I’ll see,” said Billy.
I felt better. Things were getting back to normal. It was a close shave, though.
I’d nearly messed up everything with Billy.
- 161 -
Orlando
I was in a daze as I worked with Krista and Toby. The mere sight of Krista filled
me with guilt and remorse. How could I have cheated on her—with her very own
brother no less? I wasn’t that kind of guy. At least, I hadn’t been that kind of guy.
I obviously was now. Krista was worried about me, and that just made it worse.
There she was, concerned about me when I’d betrayed her. It was the worst feel-
ing in the world.
I was tired. I hadn’t slept. Kerry had driven me home without so much as a
word being uttered by either of us. At least, I don’t think he said anything.
Maybe he did and I just failed to hear. I was in shock. The same question kept
repeating itself in my mind, over and over: Why did I do it?
I’d taken a shower when I got home, as if I could scrub away my guilt. There
wasn’t that much soap in the entire world. I couldn’t undo what I’d done. After
my shower, I’d climbed in bed, but didn’t bother to close my eyes. I didn’t dare.
If I did the images would assail me; visions of Kerry and me having sex would
flood my mind. It was like I’d been possessed. It was like someone else had taken
control of my body. Kerry hadn’t forced himself on me. He touched me when I
didn’t want him to, but soon after, I was all his. It was me who dived for his
crotch. It was me who’d gone down on him. I’d cried as I tried to force the
images from my mind.
Was I queer? I had to be; I had to be bi. Straight guys didn’t give head. They
didn’t attack another guy and swallow him whole. I’d done it and I knew what I
was doing. I wanted it. I was consumed with lust for Kerry. If he would’ve denied
me what I wanted, I’d have begged for it. There was no denying the truth.
Mark A. Roeder
162
How could I do such a thing to Krista? That question had haunted me all
night. It plagued me still as I worked by her side. She was kind, sweet, and loving.
She was my girlfriend. How could I toss all that aside and jump on her brother
like that? Yeah, he was willing. He’d tempted me. He’d seduced me. But, he
didn’t force me. I did what I did of my own free will. Maybe Kerry had set me
up, but I’d been a willing participant. I was guilty, as guilty as sin.
One thing that totally perplexed me was how I could so easily toss aside a
dream. Sure, the mere fact I’d gone after a guy confused me, but what really
turned my world upside down was how I’d turned my back on all my principles
in one swift move. I’d dreamed about having a girlfriend—someone to love,
someone who’d love me back. I wanted to find a girl like Krista and spend my
whole life with her. I wanted to get married and have kids and grow old together.
I wanted to stick with that one girl forever. I knew boys who cheated on their
girlfriends, although they cheated on them with other girls and not boys. I’d
always looked upon them with contempt. I’d felt so superior to them, knowing
that my morals would never allow such a thing, and yet the very first time I found
a serious girlfriend, I turned around and cheated on her in an instant.
I wasn’t sure where to turn or what to do next. One thing I’d decided during
my long, sleepless night was that I would never repeat my mistake. I’d stay away
from Kerry. I would no doubt see him from time to time, but never again would
I let him get me alone, never again would I yield to temptation. I’d be true to
Krista. I just hoped Kerry would keep his mouth shut. What if he told her? Or,
what if he threatened to tell her if I didn’t have sex with him again? I’d gotten
myself into one tangled mess.
I’d pondered long and hard over whether or not I should confess to Krista.
Should I tell her what I’d done, or would that do more harm than good? I didn’t
like walking around with my dirty little secret, but I knew how hurt she’d be if I
told her. There was the fact that Kerry was her brother, too. What trouble would
I stir up between them if I came clean? Would they be broken apart forever if I
told the truth? If I didn’t tell, would Kerry prey upon whatever boy Krista dated?
Was this a one-time thing for him, or was it some kind of sick and twisted
hobby?
My thoughts halted for a moment as I realized what had entered my head—
Krista dating other boys. Did I have so little faith in our relationship I assumed it
wouldn’t last? I wanted to scream. There were too many thoughts running
around in my brain. I wished I could just shut them off for a while. Maybe this
was why some people did drugs or got drunk. Such an escape was tempting, but
at least I had the sense to know that kind of escape was a trap. I’d screwed up
Mark A. Roeder
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things enough already without adding to my problems in a vain attempt to escape
them.
No, I couldn’t tell Krista. It would likely bring an end to our relationship, and
it would only serve to hurt her. I would not repeat my mistake. I wouldn’t touch
Kerry again. I’d live with the knowledge of what I’d done. I’d carry it with me as
a punishment. If Krista ever strayed, I’d remember how I’d cheated on her and
I’d forgive her. Maybe I’d even tell her about Kerry then, but maybe not. Krista
would never cheat on me, though; she was better than that. I’d thought I was bet-
ter than that, too, but I was wrong. I’d fallen from my pedestal.
After my workday ended at five, I didn’t go home. Instead, I wandered around
the park, but its beauty was lost on me. I thought it odd I could look at things
that usually brought me such pleasure—the flowers, trees, rides, beautiful lights,
and more—and find no happiness in them at all. I was seeing the same things,
hearing them, smelling them, but those senses didn’t get translated into happi-
ness. Perhaps it was a punishment for what I’d done.
“How are you doing today, young Orlando?” asked Mr. Meadows.
I’d almost passed him without seeing him. That’s how lost in my own
thoughts I’d become.
“Oh, hello. I’m…” I was going to say fine, but it was a bold-faced lie. “I’m
feeling a little down, actually.”
“Ah, I’ve been there many times myself. Pull up a toadstool and tell me about
it.”
Mr. Meadows was working on a vast bed of marigolds that were mixed in with
some purple flowers which were so dark they were nearly black. He was arranging
them so that they formed a giant jack-o-lantern.
I wasn’t sure how much I could or wanted to reveal to Mr. Meadows, but I sat
down and watched him work, carefully planting each flower in its place, like an
artist painting on a canvas. We remained silent for a good long time. Mr. Mead-
ows had the patience of someone accustoming to waiting for things to grow from
seeds.
“I’ve done something terrible,” I said at last, “and it’s eating me up inside. I
feel like a horrible, awful person.”
“The mere fact that your conscience is tormenting you tells me you’re not
horrible at all. We all do things we regret.”
“I cheated on someone I love,” I said.
Mr. Meadows looked up at me. I saw compassion rather than reproach in his
gaze.
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“It’s hard when you fall,” said Mr. Meadows. “It’s hard to face the fact that
you aren’t as near to perfection as you once thought.”
“I’m no where near perfect.”
“No one is, but deep down, most of us believe that we’re basically good.
When we fall short of that, our fallibility is often hard to accept. We feel as if
we’re less than we were.”
“Exactly.”
I paused, debating on just how much I should tell Mr. Meadows. He was
older and might not react well at all to my homosexual experience. In the end, I
couldn’t bring myself to speak the words. There was so much inside me that I
dared not share. Talking with Mr. Meadows helped, though. It didn’t solve my
problems, but he helped me put things in perspective. He didn’t say what I’d
done was okay, but he did point out that everyone made mistakes, that everyone
failed to live up to their ideal self.
Mostly, I just sat there in silence as Mr. Meadows tended his plants. A warm,
humid scent enveloped me, a scent like I’d noticed in the greenhouse, a scent of
earth and growing things. It helped me relax. I drew it into myself, almost as if I
were trying to become one with the plants around me. I almost wished I could. If
I could become a flower, I’d never be able to hurt anyone.
I walked more when I parted from Mr. Meadows, still thinking, still wonder-
ing why life had to be so hard. Why couldn’t everything just work out? Why did
my mom have to struggle just to pay the bills? Why did life have to be messed up
for so many people by too little of this or too much of that? I wanted everyone to
be happy. Life should be like a day at Phantom World, filled with laughter and
fun and cotton candy. Problems should not exist. That wasn’t reality, though.
Wanting it didn’t make it so. I had to live in the world I was born in and make
the best I could of it. That’s all anyone could do.
I briefly caught sight of Kerry as I was wandering around. He was wearing sexy
Umbros and a tank top that showed off his muscles. I hadn’t realized it before,
but he was a walking advertisement for sex. Our eyes met and he gave me that lit-
tle, knowing grin of his that now meant so much more than it had before. I hated
him, but at the same time the mere sight of him made me breathe a little harder,
and my manhood stirred in my shorts. I quickly turned and walked away, repeat-
ing to myself, never again.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“Dude, what’s eating at ya?” asked Eddie.
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165
We were sitting on the hood of his Cutlass, tossing back ice-cold Cokes from
the Marathon. It was late evening and the sky was darkening. The shadows high-
lighted Eddie’s face, making him almost handsome.
“More than you’d ever guess, man.”
“Tell me?” he asked.
“If I told you everything, you’d hate me.”
“No way could I ever hate you. Come on, we’ve been friends forever. Spill it. I
don’t like seeing you in pain.”
I felt like crying.
“I can’t…”
“Then tell me what you can.”
“I cheated on Krista.”
“No way! I mean…you really cheated on her?”
“Yep. I guess I’m just like Tara.”
“Not unless you’ve slept with every guy in town,” said Eddie with a laugh.
Guy—the word hit me. Little did Eddie know…
“I just cheated on her once. I’m not gonna do it again.”
“Who was it?” asked Eddie. “Sorry, that’s not my business.”
I looked at Eddie, my best friend forever, as tears welled in my eyes.
“I’m so fucked up, Eddie. It hurts so bad.”
A sob escaped. It just pushed its way up from my chest and burst out of my
lips. More wanted to come, but I held them in. It made me want to scream. I
wrapped my arms around my knees and drew them up against me, and I rocked
back and forth. I wanted to die.
“Dude, come on, tell me what’s eating you alive. Let me help you, just like
you’ve done for me so many times.”
“I can’t!” I said, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks. “I can’t!”
“Dude,” said Eddie, taking me by the shoulders. “You’re my best friend.
Nothin’ can change that.”
I looked into his eyes. He was kinda blurry through the tears.
“You know who I cheated on Krista with? It was a guy.”
I peered at Eddie, letting the word sink in.
“I cheated on her with a guy, Eddie, a guy. I had sex with another guy.”
Eddie bit his lip. His eyes left mine for a moment, and then returned. He nod-
ded.
“Okay,” he said, almost as if to himself. “Okay. So, you’re like bi or gay or
what?”
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“I think I’m bi,” I croaked. It was hard holding back the sobs. “I like girls,
but…last night…”
I looked at Eddie, blinking away the tears.
“It’s okay, man,” said Eddie.
“Is it really? Aren’t you freaked out?”
“Nah, you gotta come up with something way more shocking to freak me out,
man.”
“So, me doin’ it with a guy isn’t shocking?”
“Oh, it’s shocking all right. I never saw this one comin’, but it doesn’t matter.
You like girls, you like guys, what’s it to me? You’re still my best bud. The only
thing that bothers me about it is that it bothers you.”
Eddie was peering at me intently. He meant the words that were spilling out
of his mouth. The look of concern on his face was clear to read.
“So you’re okay with me bein’ half-queer?”
“Dude, I’m like half Jewish and half Polish and half Irish, so what?”
A snicker escaped from my lips, “Eddie, that’s three halves.”
“Yeah, well,” he said with a grin, “ya know what I mean!”
“So you’re really okay with it?”
“How many times I gotta tell ya! Yes! If you ask me again, I’m gonna pound
ya.”
“Okay,” I said. “Eddie, you don’t know what this means to me. It’s like…it’s a
huge load off my shoulders. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you would’ve
freaked out over me being into guys.”
“Well, I didn’t, so quit worrin’ ’bout that.”
I smiled.
“So, how long have you known about this guy thing?”
“A few days.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, it must’ve been inside me all along, but then I met Kerry
and…” My voiced trailed off. I hadn’t really meant to say his name, but there it
was.
“Kerry?”
“You know him?”
“Yeah,” said Eddie, as if that word meant a lot. “He’s trouble, man.”
“He’s also Krista’s brother.”
“Shit, man!” said Eddie. “Damn, you life has turned into a soap opera. I didn’t
know you had it in you.”
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“Well, I’m not proud of it. I can’t believe I cheated on Krista, but Kerry…he
seduced me. I didn’t even know I wanted what he had until I saw it, but once I
laid eyes on him…I was a goner.”
Eddie nodded.
“I’m not trying to say it’s any excuse for cheating on Krista, but it just
blind-sided me.”
“I can imagine.”
“He’s so hot, Eddie. When I look at him, I just…”
Eddie was being so cool. The stuff I was throwing at him was a real shocker,
but he just hung right in there, never flinching.
“You be careful around Kerry. He’ll use you up and throw you away. He’s
done it before,” said Eddie.
“Yeah? What do you know?”
“Mainly just rumors, but I’ve seen a few of the girls he’s screwed up. It’s a
game to him. He gets into their heads, makes them think he cares, and then
dumps them. You’re not the first guy he has had either. He totally fucked up this
one kid I know. I don’t mean he beat him up or anything, but the kid’s gay and
young and Kerry just totally took advantage of him—acted like he cared, had sex
with him a few times, and then laughed at him. He made a total fool of him. The
weird thing is Bobby, that’s his name, keeps wanting to go back for more. It’s
messed up.”
My mind when back to the boy Kerry and I had seen in the park, the one who
looked like he wanted to come up to Kerry, but was afraid. I remembered also
Kerry had left real quick after that. Was that Bobby? Had Kerry gone in search of
him?
“I don’t know how to handle this,” I said. “There’s this whole part of me that
I didn’t even know was there, you know? I always figured I’d get married some-
day and all that, but now, I don’t know. I really feel like I don’t know anything.”
“Dude, give yourself some time to sort it all out. I can’t say I know what it’s
like, not without lying anyway, but I know it’s got to be confusing. Look, you are
what you are, just let it flow, man. Deal with what you’ve done to Krista and just
chill out about the rest for a while. Things may look way different down the
road.”
“When did you turn into such a philosopher?” I asked.
“It’s the pot, man, makes me fuckin’ brilliant.”
I laughed. “You may be brilliant now and then, but it’s definitely not the pot.”
Eddie grinned. I was glad to have him as my friend.
- 168 -
Toby
I smiled at C.T. as I neared the Phantom World Railroad. We were working the
station together.
“You know, I don’t think you’ve stopped smiling since you met Jordan,” he
said.
“Well, I have, but not often. Thanks again. If you hadn’t come to get me, I
would’ve never known they were in the park. I’d have been so bummed out to
miss them! Avery would’ve never overheard us talking either and…”
“It’s okay,” said C.T., “you thanked me, what, ten times already? You’re eter-
nally grateful; you’re my slave. I get it.”
I grinned.
“Besides,” said C.T., “if you hadn’t been going on about your Jordan obses-
sion, Avery wouldn’t have overheard us, and I wouldn’t have gotten to meet
Phantom either.”
I really liked C.T. Where Spike had been getting more and more sexual with
me on the internet, C.T. kept things cool. We were friends and hopefully headed
toward being boyfriends. I had hard, throbbing thoughts about Spike, but I had
warm, fuzzy thoughts about C.T. I think I liked those warm and fuzzy thoughts
the best. Not that I didn’t like the sexual thoughts. Those were…incredibly
enjoyable in so many ways, but when it got right down to it, there was a lot more
to having a boyfriend than sex. Sure, sex was part of it, a damn good part, but it
was about companionship and love, too. I had part of that with C.T. already. At
the very least, we had companionship, and I was feeling something for him. Was
Mark A. Roeder
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it love? I didn’t know. I had no idea how love felt. It wasn’t in any books, and no
one seemed able to describe it.
I was going to try and keep things going with both Spike and C.T. It’s not like
I was cheating on either of them. C.T. and I hadn’t openly spoken of our rela-
tionship. I didn’t even know what it was yet. Spike seemed less and less like the
boyfriend kind. He had an appealing, bad-boy quality to him, however, that I
found hard to resist. My hormones drove me to him. If things got serious with
C.T., then I’d break things off with Spike. If Spike and I started getting together
for regular sex, then I’d put off thinking about C.T. as more than a friend. There
was no reason to tie myself down just yet or eliminate any of the possibilities.
Things didn’t always work out, as I’d learned with Orlando. And I’d waited way
too long for a boyfriend and sex to give up any of my options.
I was glad to be working with C.T. instead of Krista and Orlando. I liked
them both just fine, but Orlando was getting moody and wasn’t nearly as much
fun as he had been. I found myself wanting to help him out of his funk, but I
didn’t know how. I tried to joke around with him, but he wasn’t very responsive.
I didn’t want to get too nosy about his troubles either. Besides, Krista was his girl
and he’d probably tell her stuff way before he’d tell me.
C.T. had become more of a Phantom fan since he’d met the guys. He was far
more eager to hear me talk about them and to join into the conversation than he
was before. We even talked about going to one of their concerts together.
“Hey,” said C.T., as we were waiting for the next train to arrive, “you want to
go see Young Abe Lincoln? It’s not exactly Broadway, but I’ve heard it’s pretty
good. I might even want to audition for a part next year, although I’ll probably
work here again.”
“That sounds kinda cool. I haven’t been to a show in like, forever.”
“How about tonight? It’s not expensive. We’re both under 18 so it’s only $8, I
think, not much more expensive than a movie.”
“It’s a date,” I said, watching to see if C.T. would react to my choice of words.
If he thought anything about it, he didn’t let it show.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
It didn’t take long to get to the amphitheatre. It was less than an hour from
Phantom World. The amphitheatre was bigger than I expected. It was also cov-
ered. For some reason I thought it was an open-air theatre, but this was better,
especially since a steady drizzle was falling from the sky. I still felt like I was out-
side, though, which was cool.
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170
I was sitting right beside C.T. I liked the way that made me feel. I wanted to
put my arm around him or something, but that’s not something one guy can do
with another in public, at least not in southern Indiana. I didn’t know how C.T.
would react either.
When the show started, there was a boy kneeling by a tombstone. He had to
be young Abe Lincoln. I knew enough about Lincoln to know that his mom had
died when he was real young. I’d even seen her gravesite at the National Park in
Lincoln, which was real close to where we were sitting. Anyway, the boy was sit-
ting there in the twilight, and I could hear a whippoorwill singing in the distance.
Beyond the stage stood tall, dark trees, further creating the illusion we were out-
side.
I got into the show even more than I thought I would. I wondered why I
hadn’t bothered to go see it before. I even thought I might like to audition for
one of the Abe Lincoln parts, but I liked working at Phantom World too much.
Four different actors, of varying ages, played Lincoln in the play. The first one
was just a boy, but the others were older and more interesting. Gee, I couldn’t
even watch a play without checking out guys. I was boy-crazy. I’d have to knock
that off if I started dating C.T., unless we went boy-watching together.
C.T. was spellbound. He truly loved theatre. I could see it in his eyes. I love
being in plays, but my enthusiasm for watching them couldn’t match that of
C.T. He was as into plays as I was Phantom. Whoa.
I didn’t know how long the performance lasted, but it didn’t seem long at all.
That’s the mark of a good play. If you feel like you’ve been sitting there forever,
then it wasn’t very good. This one wasn’t like that. It was cool.
C.T. and I discussed the play on the drive back. We hadn’t gone far when we
stopped at the edge of Ferdinand and ate at the Wendy’s that was right by the
interstate. I liked Wendy’s. They had good, cheap bacon cheeseburgers and I
loved those Frostys. Mmm.
C.T. and I sat there, talking more about the play. He mentioned again that he
might want to audition for it, but would stick with Phantom World if he could
get a part in one of the shows there.
“We should’ve asked Jordan about it when we were with him,” I said. “He
owns the place, after all. He could just put us in.”
“Yeah, but I’d kind of like to get it on my own, you know?” said C.T.
“I guess I can understand that. I think I’m gonna try out for the shows next
year, too. Maybe we’ll even be in one together; that would be so cool.”
“Yeah.”
“Even if I don’t make it, I can still work in the park. I love it there.”
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“Me too. My feet get tired, but I’ve had lots of other jobs that gave me tired
feet and I didn’t like them nearly as well.”
I could tell I was falling for C.T. because he kept looking cuter. That had hap-
pened to me in the past. In fourth grade, I didn’t think Eddie Whitehead was
good looking at all, until I started liking him. He got better looking every day
after that until he was downright cute. C.T. was pretty cute to begin with, with
his blond bangs always falling down in front of his green eyes, but he was getting
way cute now.
As we sat there, I thought about telling C.T. how I felt about him. I hadn’t
entirely decided how I felt, but I liked him, a lot. I was feeling something for
him. I definitely had a crush on him and it felt like it was more than that. It
wasn’t like me to be shy, but I’d never told another boy something like that, so I
didn’t know how. I ended up not saying anything, but I did decide I’d tell him
soon. It might seem a bit wicked, but I kind of wanted to hold off on telling him
until I’d met Spike. Something about Spike intrigued me. His bad-boy qualities
attracted me, and I at least wanted to meet him and fool around before I got seri-
ous with C.T. That felt a little wrong, but I couldn’t help myself.
By the time C.T. dropped me off I was dead tired. It was getting late and I had
to get up the next morning for work. I told C.T. goodbye and thanks and stum-
bled into the house. I dropped down on the bed and went to sleep without even
bothering to undress. During the night, I dreamed of kissing C.T.
- 172 -
Mackenzie
I’d been thinking about what I’d told Billy. Had I actually said I’d do anything
Tami wanted if she gave us another chance? I knew what she wanted, and just
thinking about it made me wanna hurl. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to do it
with her after doing it with Billy. I’d probably be permanently turned off. I
wished I’d told Billy just to forget the whole thing. I should’ve come up with
some excuse or done somethin’ to get out of it. What was I thinking? It was like I
couldn’t think for myself when I was around him.
Billy was coming over. He was due at any moment. I sure hoped he hadn’t
talked to Tami, although if it was going to happen, maybe it was best to just get it
over with. Maybe I could pretend my way through it, like I’d done when I was
kissing Billy and pretending he was Tami. I sure couldn’t pretend my way
through giving head, though. Tami didn’t have that kind of equipment. Maybe I
could get Billy to do it. That wouldn’t be quite as bad. If he did me, I could pre-
tend he was Tami.
I was determined not to mention Tami, but she was about the first thing out
of my mouth when Billy walked in the door. Was I just stupid or what?
“Did you ask Tami?”
“Yes and she’d barely talk to me. She wouldn’t go for it, man. She said we’d
had our chance.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You better be!”
I bowed my head a little. I was sorry I’d ruined things for Billy, but I wasn’t at
all sorry we weren’t getting together with Tami. It was a huge load off my mind.
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“I’ve been thinking about Toby,” said Billy.
“What about him?”
“We could have some fun with him.”
“We already did that, and you’re still doing it.” I wasn’t entirely happy about
that. I still felt bad for making Toby cry when “Spike” didn’t show up.
“Not that! I mean, something a lot more fun,” he whispered. “Are your par-
ents home?”
“Nope.”
“Good, I don’t want anyone hearing. I was thinking, since Tami turned us
down…” Here, Billy paused and glared at me. He waited a full five seconds to let
the full severity of my crime sink in. “Since Tami turned us down, I was thinking
that maybe we could get what we wanted from your brother.”
“Huh?” Billy was making absolutely no sense. He might as well have been
speaking French, or Latin, or Swiss.
“We could get your brother to do for us what Tami was going to do.”
I stared at Billy. Did he really mean what I thought he did? It wasn’t possible.
“No way,” I said, hoping Billy would explain himself and that he was meaning
something other than what I thought.
“Come on, man, he’s a fag. He’ll probably like it. I know he’s got a thing for
me. You found that out yourself.”
“Dude! No!”
“Come on, Mackenzie, you owe me this! You screwed up things with Tami, so
you gotta get me a replacement.”
“How could you even suggest it? Why would you even want that?”
“Hey, it’ll feel the same.”
“That’s…that’s gay, man.”
Billy grabbed me by the throat and glared at me. “You callin’ me a fag?”
“No. No, Billy,” I croaked.
Billy released me. I rubbed my throat.
“Listen, Mackenzie, it’s not gay. It’s him who will be doing the blowing after
all.”
I was shocked. “No way!”
“Come on, Man.”
“Dude, even if Toby would be into that, I sure wouldn’t. I don’t want no part
of it. It’s…it’s incest.”
“Who cares if he wants it or not? We can make him.”
“Dude, that’s not cool.”
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174
“He’s a queer. The same rules don’t apply to him. I bet he’d do anything we
wanted to keep us from telling your parents and everyone at school about him.”
“No!”
Billy looked at me in disgust.
“Don’t be a pussy. If you don’t wanna join in, at least let me have him. Fuck,
it’s just a blow.”
“No! It’s not right! It’s blackmail!” I was practically screaming.
“Calm down, dude. Okay. Okay. It was just an idea. I thought you’d be will-
ing to do something for me since you’ve messed up everything else.”
Billy was laying on the guilt heavily, but this time I wasn’t going to knuckle
under. I was beginning to see him for what he was. I was willing to jerk Toby
around and play with his mind, but Billy wanted to go way too far. Maybe Billy
wasn’t as cool as I thought.
“Listen, Dad’s going to be home soon. He’s taking me to buy…shoes.”
Billy peered at me like he didn’t quite believe me. He’d probably picked up on
my hesitation. I was pretty good at lying, but Billy had thrown me.
“Okay. Why don’t I just go home since we’re not going to have any fun?”
He was still digging at me, still trying to lay a guilt trip on me.
“Okay,” I said, “Bye.”
Billy left. For the first time ever, I was glad to see him go.
- 175 -
Orlando
I went for a walk to clear my head. I started walking and kept walking. I didn’t
pay any attention when I heard a car come up behind me. I was walking along
the side of a gravel road and had already been passed by a handful of vehicles. A
horn jolted me out of my inner world, and I jerked around to see Kerry’s
Camaro.
Kerry pulled to the side of the road and got out. He was wearing his sleek,
black Umbros again and no shirt. It was a clear, humid day and Kerry’s muscular
torso glistened in the sun.
“Hey,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you.”
I didn’t answer.
“You’re mad at me.” He made it seem like I shouldn’t be angry with him.
“Yeah, well…”
“You don’t have to be mad.”
“You made me cheat on your sister.”
“Made you?” Kerry laughed. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t make you do anything.”
I hated that he was right.
“Listen,” said Kerry, “you don’t have to be uncomfortable about us. It’s not
cheating. It’s just guys having fun. It’s not like you went out and screwed another
girl.”
I shook my head. I knew I should be disgusted, but all I could think was,
Damn, is he hot!
“So it’s not cheating since you’re a guy?”
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176
“No. It’s not like we’re dating. I’m not trying to take you away from Krista. I
just want to have some fun. Besides, you won’t get action with my sis like you
will with me. If you’re waiting to get into her pants, it’s gonna be a long wait.”
“There’s more between Krista and me than sex.” At the present, there was no
sex, only making out.
“Yeah, that’s right,” said Kerry. I was surprised he agreed with me. “I know
you’re serious about her. I’m glad. That doesn’t mean that you and I can’t…have
some fun.”
Kerry closed the distance between us. I could see beads of sweat running down
over his tanned, muscular pecs, onto his tight abs, and into his Umbros. The
desire to reach out and touch his smooth skin was almost unbearable. Kerry
smiled at me seductively. Everything Eddie had told me about him went sailing
out of my mind.
“Hey,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to cause you any trou-
ble.” He gently grasped my chin. He closed in on me and I let him kiss me. He
slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I was his.
We couldn’t stand there and make out by the side of the road. Kerry led me to
his car, and I got in the passenger side. He flashed me a smile that made my heart
beat faster and put his hand on my knee. He drove to The Grove, which was
deserted in the early evening.
“Come on,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me from the car. He
was really leading me by my manhood. It was doing my thinking for me, but I
didn’t care. Kerry was so strong, so beautiful, so wild and sexy and sexual I
couldn’t resist him.
Kerry led me along a seldom-used path, quite some distance into the woods.
We stopped in a sheltered bay formed of honeysuckle. It surrounded us on all
sides, with only a small opening at one end. It was like a roofless room made of
living ivy. The clear sky shone through the leaves far overhead. The floor was
made of moss, like a smooth, green carpet. It was beautiful, but I didn’t observe it
for long. My heart pounded in my chest and my thoughts were consumed with
Kerry’s sleek, muscular body.
I knew I shouldn’t be there with him. I knew I shouldn’t be doing what I was
doing. But, it was like I couldn’t think when I was near Kerry. He held out a
whole new world to me, mine for the taking. What was so wrong in that?
Kerry took me in his arms and I didn’t resist. He kissed me again and our
tongues entwined. It was just like before. We tried to devour each other. Our lips
and hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Kerry pulled my shirt over my head
as we made out and his fingers were soon busy finding their way into my shorts.
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Kerry had me stripped naked in no time at all. The warm air felt good on my
nude body. A thin layer of perspiration formed on my skin. I yearned to get into
Kerry’s Umbros, but it was he who went down on his knees first. He engulfed me
and I moaned loud enough to be heard for who knows how far.
It was all a bliss-filled blur from that moment on. It was sex, sex as I’d never
imagined it, not even in my wildest fantasies. Kerry took me to the edge, and
beyond, and then we went at it again. We changed positions and I threw myself
into the act of making Kerry moan. I felt as if something primeval had been
released inside me and couldn’t be controlled.
Kerry pulled me down on top of him, with the soft green moss spread out
beneath us. He thrust himself into me and I mirrored his actions. There was so
much he could teach me. Kerry nibbled on my ears, making my mind explode
with pleasure. Who would’ve guessed such a simple thing could feel so good?”
Kerry scooted around under me until he was face down. His firm butt-cheeks
invited me to press my manhood between them. Did he really want this? Is this
where he was leading me? I pushed against him and he didn’t stop me. Slowly,
ever so slowly so as not to hurt him, I penetrated him. Kerry moaned.
I’d never known such bliss as this. Stars went nova in my mind. I thrust,
whimpered and moaned, and Kerry was not silent beneath me. I wanted it to last
forever, but it could not. It was too intense, too incredible and too intimate. I
cried out in pleasure and Kerry bucked beneath me.
Later, we lay side by side on the moss, looking up at the sky. When had the
sky darkened and the night come? I rested my head on Kerry’s chest and listened
to the rhythm of his heart. I wanted to stay there with him forever.
- 178 -
Toby
“Do you think Orlando is acting…odd?” asked Krista, as we sat across from the
Ferris Wheel, enjoying our hot dogs for supper.
“Not exactly odd,” I said slowly, “more like distant, withdrawn. It’s like he’s
always thinking about something far away.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Krista. “That’s more of what I meant, although it is
odd for him to be that way. I’m getting worried that…”
Her voice trailed off and her eyes became watery as if she were on the verge of
crying. I put my arm around her.
“What is it, Krista?”
“I…I don’t think I can talk to you about it. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me? How?” I asked, sitting back.
Krista hesitated, and then spoke almost hesitantly, “I know about you, Toby.
At least I think I do.”
This was it. She’d guessed I was gay. She’d seen me checking out boys, or
maybe she’d seen me with C.T. Most people probably thought C.T. and I were
just friends, which was true at the moment, but he was definitely queer acting.
Well, he acted the way most people thought gay boys acted: his voice, his clothes,
his love of theatre, the way he gestured with his hands when he talked, the way he
held his wrist. C.T. was a walking gay stereotype. Maybe Krista had caught on I
was gay because I hung out with C.T.
“Go on,” I said. Oddly enough, I felt perfectly composed. Krista was my
friend, and I believed she’d accept me, whether I like girls or boys. I’d thought
about telling her myself, but it wasn’t easy to come out, even to a friend.
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“Well, I know you have a crush on me, Toby. Now, don’t get embarrassed;
there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m flattered, but I just don’t think of you in
that way. You’re more like a little brother to me.”
A small chortle forced its way up my throat before I could stop it. Krista
peered at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to laugh, but it’s funny. I’ll explain in a
minute, but first, you tell me why you think I have a crush on you.”
“Ever since Orlando and I started dating, you’ve seemed kind of jealous. You
keep it mostly hidden, but we’ve both noticed. Maybe I should’ve said something
before. I like you Toby, I like you a lot, but as a friend.”
“Okay,” I said, “you’re not completely wrong, but let’s get back to what’s
bothering you. What has you upset?”
Krista grew quiet for a few moments. I slowly chewed on my hot dog while
waiting for her to speak.
“I think Orlando has another girl.” Her voice was so quiet it was nearly a
whisper.
“No, not Orlando. He wouldn’t do that. What makes you think so?”
“It’s just little things. When we kiss, he gets kind of awkward. It’s like his
whole body becomes all rigid. When I mention how happy he makes me, he
doesn’t look me in the eyes. When he does look into my eyes I see guilt there. I
don’t know what to think, Toby. I like Orlando so much. I think I even love
him. I don’t want to say anything to him about my suspicions in case I’m wrong.
Then he’d just think I don’t trust him.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I, uh, I don’t quite know what to tell you. I’m not exactly
experienced in this kind of stuff.”
Krista smiled despite her sadness and mussed my hair. She looked at me curi-
ously.
“What did you mean when you said I wasn’t completely wrong about you
being jealous, and why is the idea of you having a crush on me funny?”
“Think about it,” I said. “Add those two things up and see what you get.”
I watched Krista as she puzzled it out, but she didn’t seem to be getting any-
where.
“Me having a crush on you is funny,” I said slowly. “You’re not completely
wrong about me being jealous of you and Orlando. I don’t have a crush on you,
but I’m a little jealous because I have a crush on…”
“Orlando?” asked Krista, as if she didn’t think she had the answer, even
though it seemed the only possibility.
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I nodded. “I’m gay,” I whispered. I was a little uneasy admitting that even to
Krista.
“Really?”
“Really. Listen, I had a crush on Orlando…well, I still do, sorta, but since he
started dating you it’s become kinda obvious he’s straight. I knew the chances of
him bein’ gay weren’t good, but I’d been hoping, and then you two started in,
and…well, that kind of ended that. I want you to know I’m happy for you, both
of you. You’re my friends. I’m a little jealous. I can’t help that, but I’m happy
that you’re happy. Only now you’re not.” I frowned.
Krista weakly smiled and nodded her head.
“So, um, it’s okay with you that I’m gay?”
“Of course it is, Toby. Why would it not be?”
“I dunno. I thought you’d be cool with it, but I didn’t really know, you know?
Some people…”
“Some people can go jump in the lake,” said Krista.
I laughed again, smiled, and then turned serious once more.
“I hope you’re wrong about Orlando. Maybe something else is bothering
him.”
“I hope I’m wrong, too.”
I hugged Krista again. We’d become good friends. In some ways, that was
even more important than having a boyfriend.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
When I checked my e-mail after work, the subject line in a message from
Spike made my heart beat faster. It said, “Let’s Meet Tonight.”
I clicked on the message and read it:
Toby,
I can’t wait anymore. Besides, I don’t have to. I’m no longer grounded.
I’ve been thinking about you and looking at your pictures. You’re driving
me crazy. I want you so bad, Toby. When we meet, I want to have sex. I’ll
go ahead and say that right now. If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay, but
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that’s what I want. I feel like I’m going to burst or something. I’ll be at The
Grove waiting for you at 8:30 p.m. Please come.
Spike
I looked at my watch. Shit! It was 8:20 already! I closed the browser and hur-
ried for the door.
“Where ya goin’?” called Mackenzie as he was coming down the stairs.
“None of your business,” I shot back and ran out the door. My little brother
was so nosy.
I pulled my Trek from the garage and pedaled toward The Grove as fast as I
could. As it was, I’d be a little late. I hoped Spike didn’t think I was standing him
up again. I doubted he’d give me another chance if I failed to show up this time.
Plus I wanted to meet him.
Guilt flashed through my head as I raced toward The Grove. What about
C.T.? I really liked him. Wasn’t meeting up with Spike kind of like cheating on
C.T.? Sure, we weren’t officially dating, but we had gone out. It felt like a date,
although neither of us had put that name to it. I felt even more guilty because I’d
intentionally put off talking to C.T. about our relationship. Part of that was
because I was nervous about bringing it up. He might not be interested in me,
after all. I was sixteen, short, and skinny. He was the same age, but taller, better
built and way cuter than I was. That blond hair just made me…
Anyway, I had to focus. The main reason I’d put off talking about us was
because I wanted Spike. If C.T. and I started dating, Spike was out. There was
something about Spike that drew me to him, something irresistibly sexy and
arousing. I wanted to see what that was all about before I settled down with C.T.
Spike was a bad boy I wanted to have fun with before getting myself a boyfriend.
Did that make me a bad person?
My thoughts zipped to Spike—those pics of him…yum. There seemed to be
some direct connection between my eyes and little Toby, because when I looked
at a shirtless pic of Spike, little Toby got instantly excited. He was about as
worked up as he could get right now. My shorts were straining to keep him in.
I pedaled up the dirt road that led into The Grove. After a bit, the ruts gave me
enough trouble that I climbed off my bike and walked. Cars could navigate the
old road well enough it seemed, but the ruts could throw a bike wheel. I
begrudged the lost time and had to force myself to keep from running. I didn’t
want to bolt into the clearing like some desperate, sex-starved boy, although that
was a pretty accurate description of me.
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182
I hit the button on the side of my watch, making the face glow blue. It was
8:35. I was late, but if Spike decided to leave, he’d have to drive right past me.
There was only one road leading in and out. I forced myself to relax. I wanted to
appear calm and cool when I met Spike.
I glanced down at my clothes—old gym shorts from school and nearly worn
out sneakers. At least I was wearing my tank top. It almost made me look like I
had muscles. I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping to get any tangles out of
my curls before I met Spike. I wanted him to like me. I wanted him to want me.
What if he didn’t—want me, that is? Spike was obviously way hotter than I
was. He had muscles. I didn’t. What did Spike see in me? Maybe, he just saw me
as a horny boy he could have sex with. I didn’t mind that. I’d already come to the
conclusion our relationship wouldn’t go much beyond sex. We could be friends,
but that was about it. Spike wasn’t the boyfriend type. That, too, was part of his
appeal, but I was a little put out with myself for feeling that way.
I pushed my bike into the clearing. There was no car. Shit! I’d missed him
again.
“Hey, Toby.”
I turned quickly as someone stepped out from the trees. For a fleeting moment
I thought it was Spike, but no, it was Billy. What was he doing here?
“You look like you’re surprised to see me,” said Billy, coming closer.
“Um, yeah.” Shit, this was exactly what I didn’t want to happen. What were
the odds of us running into each other in The Grove again?
Billy crossed the remaining feet between us before I knew it. He grabbed me,
squeezing my biceps, but he didn’t start punching me. The expected blows did
not come. Instead, he kissed me roughly. I pulled back, shocked, and wiped my
mouth with my arm. Billy’s eyes were gleaming with anger.
“What are you doing? I asked, confused and afraid.
“Whatever I want,” said Billy in a smug, amused tone.
“But…”
“Haven’t figured it out yet, huh?” asked Billy.
“Figured it out?”
“Spike,” he said, releasing me.
How did he know about Spike?
“Mackenzie,” I said. “He’s been snooping on the computer hasn’t he?” I did
my best to keep things hidden. I deleted files. I kept Spike’s pics on a floppy disk
that I hid in my special hiding place. I deleted the internet history and even the
temporary files. Mackenzie knew more about computers, though. Somehow, he’d
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gotten into my e-mail or something and had told Billy all about my conversations
with Spike.
“Not a bad guess, but wrong,” said Billy, standing there with his arms crossed,
smiling evilly at me. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. If I wasn’t so scared, he would’ve
turned me on.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of brain. You really can’t figure
it out?”
“No,” I said, confused. I felt slightly stupid. I hated that he could do that to
me.
“There is no Spike, fag.”
There is no Spike?
“I…I don’t understand.”
“Or, maybe I should put it this way—I’m Spike.”
“No, I’ve seen his pics. I’ve…he called the house once when you were there.”
“One of my friends called your house. I had him do it when I knew I’d be
there, just to throw you off if you started figuring things out. I see I need not have
bothered.”
Billy was just screwing with me. That was it.
“You have a crush on me,” said Billy. “Well, not a crush. You want me. You’re
afraid of me, but you want me. I know all about it.”
I swallowed hard. Had Mackenzie found something about that on the com-
puter? Were my chats somehow recorded?
“Want to know more? I can keep going. I can tell you everything you wrote to
Spike, everything you said to him while you were chatting, because when you
thought you were talking to Spike, you were talking to me.
“Why do you think you ran into me the last time you tried to meet him, huh?
Why do you think I’m here now? Do you think it’s just some kind of freaky coin-
cidence? Spike wasn’t waiting on you last time, just like he’s not here this time,
because there is no Spike.”
My jaw dropped open. It was true. Why was Billy in The Grove twice when I’d
come to meet Spike? It would’ve been a pretty amazing coincidence.
“Shit!” I said out loud. Billy knew everything!
“That’s right, fag. Brilliant plan, huh?”
He grabbed me again, digging his fingers into my biceps once more. He kissed
me, forcing his tongue into my mouth, and then he jerked away from me and
slugged me in the face. “You disgust me,” he said.
“You’re gay,” I shot back. It was obvious. Why else would he kiss me?
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“No, I just like fucking with your mind, Toby. It’s a fun little toy.”
He kissed me again and, once more, when he pulled his lips from mine, he hit
me—this time in the stomach. I doubled over with a loud grunt of pain.
“Mmmm, you’re even more fun to kiss than your brother.”
“What?” I yelled, clutching my stomach. “No way! No way did you kiss
Mackenzie!”
“Way!” said Billy. “Oh, he’s not gay. That one’s as straight as an arrow, but I
got him to do a few things as the price for making it with a girl. It was another
brilliant scheme of mine. Imagine it, bending a straight boy—getting him to do
something he’d never do otherwise.” Billy laughed. There was a crazed look in his
eyes.
My mind was reeling. I’d always had a low opinion of Billy, but he was lower
than low. He’d actually manipulated my little brother into kissing him, and who
knows what else? It was sick.
“You’re mad! You stay away from my brother!” I yelled.
“Oh, like you have anything to say about it. Fuck, you’re such a wuss.”
I felt like crying. It was all too much. What he said was true. I was a wuss.
Even Mackenzie could beat me up.
“Enough talk!” said Billy.
He jumped on me. He kissed me. His hands were all over me, touching me.
My shirt ripped. I struggled, but it didn’t help much. Billy was stronger than I
was. I screamed before he clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was useless. The
Grove was deserted, except for the two of us. There was no Avery to rescue me
this time.
Billy hit me. He punched me in the stomach and the chest. When his hand
slipped from my mouth, I said, “I’ll tell. Get off me or I’ll tell. They’ll arrest
you.”
“You won’t tell,” said Billy, laughing at me. “You want to keep your secret,
don’t you? Besides, you’re far too much of a coward to tell anyone.”
I struggled against him, but it was all but useless. Billy kissed me again, and
then he reached down and felt me where he shouldn’t. He could tell I was
excited.
“You sick little faggot,” said Billy. He slugged me in the face.
He kissed me yet again, and then pulled back for another punch, but someone
rammed into him from the side. I couldn’t tell who for a moment in the failing
light, but then I made out the features of my rescuer. It was Mackenzie!
I raised myself up on my elbows, the pain in my gut making it difficult to sit
up. I could hear more than see the scuffle in the darkness under the trees. I pain-
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185
fully raised myself to a sitting position. I could make out Billy and Mackenzie
rolling around on the ground, a mass of flailing fists and grunts of pain. I never
thought Mackenzie would attack Billy, but there he was, saving me. I felt a wave
of guilt and shame engulf me. My little brother had to save me. I was a year older
than he was, but he had to fight my battles for me.
Mackenzie wasn’t doing so well against Billy, though. Billy crawled up on top
of him and pummeled him, yelling “Fucker!” Mackenzie was struggling, but Billy
had him down.
I screamed in a rage and launched myself at Billy. I wrapped my arms around
his shoulders and used the force of my lunge to get him off my brother. I began
punching wildly, not aiming, just punching. I didn’t know how to fight, so I just
hit whatever part of Billy I could reach. He slugged me in the face and I went
down. I was on my back. I leaned up to see Billy coming at me again. Mackenzie
was lying not far away, struggling to get to his feet. I had to say one thing for my
little brother: He didn’t give up.
Billy staggered toward me. He was almost on top of me. I saw my chance. I
pulled my right leg up toward my chest and then shot my foot toward Billy’s
crotch as hard as I could. I nailed him in the nads. Billy screamed in pain and fell
to the ground, clutching his groin. I pulled myself to my feet, Mackenzie was by
my side, breathing hard and wincing from pain.
“Good shot, Toby,” said Mackenzie, looking down at Billy, writhing and
moaning on the ground. “That’ll keep him out of it for a while. Come on, let’s
get outta here.”
I retrieved my Trek, and Mackenzie and I limped down the dirt road, sup-
porting each other. Both of us were eager to get out of The Grove and away from
Billy. I shuddered to think about what could’ve happened.
- 186 -
Mackenzie
I hobbled along beside my brother. When we cleared the darkness of the trees, I
could see there was a little trickle of blood oozing from the side of his mouth. It
was my fault, all my fault. I started crying.
“Hey, Mackenzie, it’s okay. He’s not coming after us anytime soon,” said
Toby.
“It’s not that. I’m not afraid of Billy.”
“Well, I am. Thanks for saving me back there.”
“No. No. No! It’s my fault. It’s all my fault! He could’ve hurt you bad and it
would’ve been my fault!”
Toby glanced sideways at me. His expression was hurt.
I confessed my sins to him. “I snooped in your stuff. I found your Undergear
catalogs and those pictures of guys you’d torn out of magazines. I snooped on the
computer, too. I found out you chatted on Gay.com. I found your screen name. I
told Billy. He thought it would be funny to chat with you on the internet, mess
with your head. I thought I could find out secrets. I didn’t know he was gonna
take things so far! I never meant for you to get your feelings hurt, and I never
meant for Billy to hit you!”
I cried like a baby and then cried even harder when Toby comforted me. After
the nasty things I’d done to him, he was still trying to make me feel better.
“Don’t do that!” I practically screamed. “You should yell at me! You should
hit me! You should nail me in the nuts like you did Billy! It’s what I deserve!”
Toby stopped. He turned at me and held me in his gaze. The corners of his
mouth were turned downward with sadness.
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187
“If you want to know the truth,” said Toby, “I’m hurt, I’m disappointed and I
can’t believe you’d do something like this to me. I mean, you’re always a little
pain in the ass, but you’ve never done anything malicious before.”
“Malicious?” I asked. I hated it when he used big words.
“It means you did something nasty, something to cause harm.”
“Oh. I swear, Toby, I really didn’t mean for it to go so far! I told Billy we had
to end it. I told him to stop. He said he’d make it fun for you, like a fantasy. I
didn’t know he was going to set you up. I didn’t! I didn’t know he had anything
like that planned until I got into your e-mail earlier this evening and saw he
wanted to meet you. Then I knew something was up. Billy had been lying to
me.” I pleaded with my big brother. I was afraid he wouldn’t love me anymore.
“Mackenzie, I believe you. You’re annoying, you’re a smartass, you’re an irri-
tant, but I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.”
“Thanks, Toby. Thanks for believing me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Listen, it wasn’t all your fault, little bro. Billy’s some kind of psycho or some-
thin’. He was using you. He told me what he got you to do, at least part of it.”
I looked away from Toby. I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I wasn’t crying any-
more, but tears were still leaking out. I felt ashamed, frightened and foolish.
“I’m not gay,” I said, in a hoarse whisper.
“I know, Mackenzie, I know.”
“Not that it’s bad,” I said quickly. “I know I’ve made fun of you. I know I’ve
done some terrible things, but it wasn’t because you being gay grossed me out or
anything. It was just something to use against you—something to tease you
about. I swear, Toby, you being gay is cool with me. I’m kinda worried about
what people will think about me if they find out about you, but I’m okay with it.
You’re still my brother, and it doesn’t change anything.”
I meant what I said. I could tell Toby appreciated it. There were tears in his
eyes as he smiled at me. He hugged me.
“Thanks, Mackenzie.”
We were nearly home. We walked up the sidewalk leading to the house and
hobbled up the steps. Just as we reached the top, the front door and then the
screen door opened. It was Dad.
“You two have a lot of explaining to do.” Dad looked really ticked off.
Mom about had a fit when she saw us both all messed up. She sent us off to
the bathroom to clean up and then told us to report back to the kitchen. She
awaited us there with bandages and some kind of cream that kept away infec-
tions. Dad looked on with crossed arms while she fixed us up.
“Now,” he said when Mom was done. “Explain.”
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Toby started to speak, but I cut him off. “It was my fault,” I said. “I talked
Toby into coming with me to see Billy because I was scared. Billy has been acting
really mean lately and I wanted to tell him we couldn’t be friends anymore, but I
was afraid he’d try to hurt me.”
Toby looked stunned for a moment, but wisely wiped the look off his face
while I lied through my teeth.
“I was right. When I told Billy we couldn’t be friends anymore, he punched
me in the face. We fought. Billy got me down and was punching me when Toby
pulled him off me and kicked his butt!”
I noticed Dad smiled proudly at Toby for a moment, before remembering to
be stern.
“You both should have more sense!” said Mom. “Going out at night, without
telling anyone where you were going to meet someone you knew might try to
hurt you!”
I bowed my head hoping to look sorry and ashamed, but I don’t think Mom
bought it.
“Mackenzie, you’re grounded for two weeks!”
“But, Mom?”
“Three!” she said. Her eyes were blazing. I knew better than to utter another
word or I’d be looking at a month.
“And you,” she said, rounding on Toby, “it’s commendable you wanted to
protect your brother, but you should have told us instead. Understand?”
“Yes,” said Toby. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s absolutely right!” said Mom. “You weren’t! One week, Toby. You go
nowhere but work for a week.”
Toby nodded. No doubt he received a lesser sentence because of his lack of a
record. I, on the other hand, was in trouble more often than not.
When we got back to our room, Toby turned to me and said, “Thanks for
taking the heat for me down there. If they found out what really happened…”
Toby shuddered.
“It was the least I could do for my big bro, especially since it was my fault.”
“It was Billy’s fault,” said Toby, angrily.
“It’s probably not a good idea to meet someone off the internet like that,” I
said. “There’re probably a lot of Billys out there.”
“Yeah, I know. I wasn’t thinking. Well, I was, but I wasn’t thinking with my
head. I was thinking with something else.” Toby pointed to his crotch.
I laughed. “I think with my dick a lot too. I guess it’s not so smart.”
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“So,” said Toby, “about this girl…Billy said he got you to kiss him so you
could do something with a girl. What happened?”
I grimaced at the mention of kissing Billy, but Toby wasn’t making fun of me.
It was a kindness I didn’t deserve.
“Actually, there were two different girls,” I said, grinning.
Toby’s eyes widened and I told him about Mandy and Tami, playing down
the stuff I’d done with Billy as much as possible. For the first time ever, Toby
seemed like a buddy and not just a dorky older brother. Maybe I wouldn’t miss
Billy so bad after all.
- 190 -
Orlando
Krista. Kerry. What had I gotten myself into? Or, more accurately, what had
Kerry pulled me into. He’d seduced me, plain and simple. I’d been seduced by a
boy when I wasn’t even attracted to boys. No, that wasn’t right. I was attracted to
Kerry. How else could he have enticed me to have sex with him?
I still didn’t understand it. I’d always been straight, at least as far as I knew. I’d
never felt the slightest attraction for another guy, until Kerry. Maybe it wasn’t
about sexual attraction, though. Maybe it was about forbidden fruit. Kerry was
forbidden, in more ways than one. He wasn’t just another boy; he was my girl-
friend’s brother. He was doubly taboo. Was there something about that that
excited me? Was it the danger and illicitness of it and not Kerry himself I found
so irresistible? Perhaps those things did entice me, but there was more. I had to
admit the thrill of what we were doing, even though it was so very wrong. I was
attracted to Kerry, though. There was no denying that fact. Even now, he was in
my mind—those eyes, that hair, that face. His body was strong and chiseled,
practically a work of art. Something about his chest made me want to caress it
and…. I shuddered at the pure sexuality of it. My attraction to Kerry was pain-
fully real, but also very much an enigma.
I’d never thought about guys before, but I did now. There were some cute
ones around. Did I have some kind of mental block that kept me from seeing
that before? I couldn’t remember a single instance of being attracted to someone
of my own sex before Kerry, but now I was beginning to see the guys around me
in a new light. There were a few that…that I’d like to kiss. The thought didn’t so
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much disturb me as surprise me. I felt as if a doorway to a long locked room had
been opened in my soul.
Kerry and I had done much more than kiss. My mind reeled with it. The feel-
ings Kerry was able to create in my body with his hands, lips, and tongue were
indescribable and intense—mind-blowing. I was still astounded he’d allowed me
to enter him. That had to hurt, but he’d seemed to enjoy it as much as I.
What had I become? There was no doubting my lust for girls, but this new
lust for my own sex was just as powerful and perhaps more so. Had it been there
all along, or had something or someone awakened it? Kerry. I wondered what
would have been if our paths had never crossed. Would these desires and feelings
have remained hidden inside me? And, would that have been a good or bad
thing? I didn’t ask for this, but I had to admit this new world begged to be
explored.
Krista. I had to think about Krista. I cared for her, maybe even loved her. I
wasn’t sure. Like I’d so recently learned, there was no black and white, only
shades of gray. How did you know if you loved someone? Was there some sure
sign? I’d never heard of one, only of vague hints. How did one know for sure?
Perhaps that didn’t matter for the moment; what did was my relationship with
Krista, and with Kerry. I found myself trapped, unwilling to give up either of
them. After our first sexual encounter, I’d firmly decided never to be with Kerry
again. It was obvious my resolve was less than firm on that one. One look at
Kerry’s gleaming chest had been enough to topple the walls of my determination.
I’d fallen into his arms again, and willingly. Now, sitting alone on my bed, I
knew I didn’t want to stay away from Kerry. I wanted to experience the delights
of his body, over and over again.
I wanted Krista, too. Sexually, to be sure, but there was more to it than that—
companionship and friendship. She made me laugh.
I held my head in my hands and moaned. Why did it all have to be so hard?
First, I had no one and now I had two someones. Kerry assured me we could con-
tinue without hurting Krista, but how likely was that? It was a small world, and
Krista and Kerry lived in the same house. I knew in my heart I should stop seeing
one, or the other or both of them. If just one, it had to be Kerry. I could hardly
break up with Krista and say, “There’s someone else. I’m dating your brother.”
We weren’t dating, actually, just fooling around. I wasn’t deluding myself. I
knew our relationship was about sex and nothing more, but what sex! I’d never
experienced the likes of it before! Of course, that didn’t mean much with me
being a virgin and all, but I’d never dreamed it would be so good. At last, I
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understood the meaning of ecstasy. Sex was like a drug that addicted instantly. I
had to have more.
There was something about Kerry, too, something about this relationship
with another boy. I was developing feelings for Kerry, not unlike those I had for
his sister—not as strong, but present and growing. Was I falling for him, too?
That wasn’t a good thing, not because Kerry was a guy, but because I knew he
could never return my affection. It was just a game to him, just sex. Who knew
how many guys he’d slept with, or how many girls? Kerry was the kind that could
go through life without feeling too strongly. It was a trait I did not possess. What
could I do?
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Krista and I were watching a movie in her living room. Kerry was home. He’d
given me a knowing grin. My eyes devoured him in his worn jeans and cut-off
t-shirt that exposed his well-muscled abdomen. The mere sight of him aroused
me. I had to sit quickly and pull a pillow over my lap to hide it. I was glad Kerry
didn’t remain in the room.
I put my arm around Krista and she settled into my side. The closeness com-
forted me, but I felt like a louse. I’d been cheating on her. It seemed impossible—
me, the boy who’d yearned for a girlfriend, actually cheating on her. The world
was not a simple place, however, and I’d not reckoned with Kerry and my newly
awakened desires.
Halfway through the movie, I went upstairs to go to the bathroom. When I
came back out, Kerry was standing there. He reached to his sides and pulled off
his shirt, beckoning me with his finger. My eyes fell to his chest and I followed—
a lamb to the slaughter. Kerry led me into his room and pushed the door to
behind us. He kissed me passionately on the lips. Our tongues entwined.
“This is crazy,” I said. “You sister’s right downstairs.”
“That’s what makes it so fucking exciting,” said Kerry, grinning. “Now get on
your knees, boy.”
Kerry pressed down on my shoulder with his hand. The pressure was hardly
necessary. I was under his spell. I gladly sank to my knees before him. I reached
up and popped the button on his jeans and then pulled down the zipper. Kerry
was wearing nothing underneath. I pushed his jeans to the floor, leaned and
pulled him into my mouth.
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Moments later, I have no idea how many, there was a stifled cry just after the
door to Kerry’s room opened. I looked up to see Krista staring at me in horror. It
was the ultimate nightmare. She turned and fled. The damage had been done.
“Fuck,” said Kerry. I thought the word pretty much summed up the situation.
I pulled away from Kerry and stood, no longer under the spell of his body. I
walked down the stairs in a daze. Krista was on the couch, crying. When I neared
her she looked up and said, “Go. Just go.”
I ran for the door, flinging it open. I was out of the house and tearing down
the street before the screen door even slammed shut behind me. What had I
done?
- 194 -
Toby
I’d never felt like such a fool in my entire life. The boy with whom I’d shared my
secrets, dreams, fantasies and desires didn’t even exist. I couldn’t believe I’d been
stupid enough to send pictures of myself to someone I didn’t even know. Then,
in the most idiotic and foolish move of all, I’d actually gone to meet him.
Being beaten by Billy was bad enough, but I realized I’d probably gotten off
lucky—not only because Mackenzie had come running to my aid, but because
someone much, much worse than a fifteen-year-old bully could’ve been waiting
for me. What if Spike had turned out to be a full-grown man or a group of col-
lege-aged gay bashers? What if he’d been a kidnapper, or child molester, or mur-
derer?
Mackenzie saved my butt by lying to Mom and Dad. If they would’ve found
out what I’d done, I’d have been lectured about it until the end of time. They
would have been justified doing so, too. I didn’t need any lectures from my par-
ents. I lectured myself. I realized what could’ve happened, even with Billy. If
Mackenzie hadn’t come along…Billy frightened me now as he never had before.
There was something in his eyes as he attacked me. It wasn’t the mischievous
glint I’d seen as he tormented me alongside Mackenzie; it was something more,
something sinister.
I kept thinking about how Billy kept kissing me and then punching me. His
kisses were passionate. When his lips met mine, he kissed me as if he’d been wait-
ing forever to do so, but then he pulled back and there was fierce anger in his
eyes, as if he was infuriated I’d kissed him. Then, the blows came. He hit me with
all the power he could muster. Had I experienced the beginnings of a rape? If
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Mackenzie hadn’t come, would Billy have raped and maybe killed me too? I’d
seen some show on TV that said rape was an act of violence, not of sex. When
Billy attacked me, it felt like violence and sex combined. It terrified me as noth-
ing had before.
I’d always thought I was smart, but recent events taught me otherwise. I’d
been completely taken in by Billy, by someone who never seemed that intelligent.
I had to reevaluate my thinking. If I was wrong about this, what else was I wrong
about?
One thing was for sure. I was going to be much more careful on the internet.
I’d probably never be able to talk to another guy again without wondering if it
was Billy, or someone like him, messing with my head. In the near future, at
least, I was going to limit myself to just chatting. I wasn’t going to meet up with
anyone, no matter how hot he was. If I did meet a boy off the internet again
someday, I was damned well going to meet him in a public place. I’d never again
be as reckless as I had been with Spike.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Krista’s eyes were filled with silent tears when I met her in the employee
lounge at Phantom World. When I asked her what was wrong, she just shook her
head, as if unable to speak. She walked along beside me, silently, as we made our
way to the Water Demon. I didn’t try to speak to her, as it was obvious that she
was trying to control her emotions and put on a happy face for the guests. It
looked like I wasn’t the only one who’d had a bad night. Krista was in such a state
she never even asked me about my bruised face. During the night, more than one
part of my face had turned purplish-black where Billy had slugged me. If I’d
taken off my shirt, the marks of what had happened would’ve been even more
evident. I had big bruises on my chest, as well as small bruises on my arms left by
Billy where he’d painfully dug his fingers into my biceps. My stomach had no
such marks, but my gut still faintly ached.
“Where’s Orlando?” I asked. He was scheduled to work with us, but he was no
where to be seen.
Krista burst out crying all over again at my question. I felt horribly guilty for
increasing her pain, although I didn’t know quite what I’d done. I was suddenly
fearful. Had something bad happened to Orlando? I wanted to ask, but I didn’t
want to make Krista cry, so I swallowed the question as it formed on my lips.
Krista managed to put herself together before any guests got in line, but her
smile was forced and fake. The guests probably didn’t notice, but I knew her well
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enough to read the pain in her eyes. I felt for her and wished I could make her
troubles go away.
I worried about Orlando. The feelings I’d had for him before he and Krista
started dating returned. I had a crush on him still—no mistake. My heart ached
with the thought he could by lying in a hospital, hurt, and maybe dying. I knew
he could never be the boyfriend I’d wanted, but that didn’t keep me from caring
about him. At the very least, he was a friend; but Orlando was more than that to
me. I’d always have feelings for him.
I shook myself out of my thoughts. There was no use in getting worked up
until I knew what had gone down. If I allowed myself to worry about all the bad
things that could’ve happened to him, I’d be bawling my eyes out in no time at
all. That wouldn’t help Krista. I just had to bide my time. I’d find out.
That time didn’t come until lunch. As Krista and I sat silently eating chicken
strips and fries, I summoned the courage to poise the question.
“Did something happen to Orlando?”
Krista looked at me. She could read the fear in my eyes. She put her hand on
my shoulder.
“No, Toby, he’s fine. Nothing happened to him.” Tears welled up in her eyes
again. I pulled her to me and hugged her. When she released me after a couple of
minutes, I peered into her eyes.
“I don’t want to pry or be nosy,” I said, “but, if you want to talk about what-
ever’s bothering you, I’m here.”
“Orlando cheated on me,” Krista said flatly. The suddenness of her response
shocked me after her silence.
“Cheated on you?” I asked, incredulously. “With some girl who works in the
park?” I suddenly felt guilty for being so nosy. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my busi-
ness.”
“He cheated on me with another guy.”
“A guy?” I asked, more shocked than ever before.
“With my brother.”
My jaw would’ve dropped to the ground if it were possible. I was in total
shock.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I said.
“Hey,” said Krista, “there’s a lot of fish in the sea, right?” I could tell she
wasn’t nearly as optimistic as she was pretending.
“Yeah, that’s true. I just wish they were easier to catch.” I tried not to let my
own disappointment come through in my voice, but my options were disappear-
ing one by one.
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Krista reached out and ran her fingers through my hair. “You’ll find someone,
Toby; you have a lot to offer.”
I smiled. “So do you.”
“Now why can’t I find a guy like you?”
“That wouldn’t help you,” I said. “I’m gay, remember.”
“At least you’re open about what you are.”
“So, um, Orlando’s bi, I guess? Sorry, I shouldn’t be asking.”
“No, it’s okay. I kind of want to talk about it and you’re the only one I feel I
can share this with.”
That made me feel good inside.
“He must be bi,” said Krista, “unless he was faking things with me. We
never…we never made love, but we kissed and…well, let’s just say I know he was
excited by it.”
I nodded my head.
“There’s no doubt he’s attracted to guys, too. I walked in on him and my
brother. They were…” she shuddered.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to say it.”
“It’s not really the fact that I found him with another guy. It’s not even that he
was cheating on me with my very own brother. What really hurts is just the fact
he cheated on me, period. I thought he cared about me, maybe even loved me,
but…I don’t understand how he could do this.”
“Maybe…” I said slowly, trying to clarify my thoughts and put them into
words, “maybe Orlando was torn somehow. I’m not bi, so I don’t know what
that’d be like. But, maybe there’s something he needs he can only get from a guy,
you know? I’m not defending what he did. I’d never cheat on someone I cared
about, but maybe it’s harder for him. What’s it like being bi? Think about it, no
matter who you date, you can’t really have what you want. If you’re with a boy,
you don’t have a girl. If you’re with a girl, you don’t have a boy.”
“I never thought about it like that.”
“I may be wrong. I’m just trying to understand. Orlando doesn’t seem the
type to do something like this.”
“I’d have thought the same before I walked in on him and caught him.”
“Yes. I’m just saying that maybe that’s the reason he cheated.”
Krista looked off into space for several moments without speaking.
“I guess it should make me feel a little better, knowing he cheated on me with
a boy. It’s somehow not as bad if it’d been a girl. In a way, it’s worse, more of a
shock, but then again, maybe you’re right. Maybe he needed something I just
couldn’t give him—something no girl could give him.”
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“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.
“Yes. Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not the day after that. But, I’m going
to be okay eventually. It hurts to be betrayed by someone I cared about. It makes
me feel like I can’t trust anyone, present company excepted, of course, but I’m
not going to lie down and die over this. I may need a shoulder to cry on for a
while, though,” she said, tearing up once more.
“Mine’s always here for you Krista.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder and I kissed her forehead. I put my arms
around her and held her as if keeping her safe from the world. I was glad I could
be there for her when she needed me. That was what being a friend was all about.
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
Krista and I went our separate ways after lunch. As I headed for the donut
booth, I saw Orlando wandering in the other direction. There was a crowd
between us, and he didn’t see me, but he had the same stricken look on his face
I’d seen on Krista’s. I knew I should be angry with him for what he’d done to
Krista, but I couldn’t help but pity him.
I had plenty of time to think while I was selling donuts. I was relieved
Orlando wasn’t hurt or dead. The news Krista had given me was sure a shocker
though. I’d never seen this one coming.
I guess Orlando wasn’t quite as unobtainable as I’d thought, but I didn’t
know if I wanted him now, not after what he’d done to Krista. Loyalty was some-
thing important to me, and his lack of faithfulness was disturbing. I’d reserve
judgment until I knew the whole story, if ever. I didn’t think I could date
Orlando in any case. It would be too weird going out with Krista’s old boyfriend
when I was friends with her. Orlando was attractive in many ways, but not as
attractive as before. He certainly wasn’t worth the risk of damaging my relation-
ship with Krista.
I guess that only left C.T. He was my last possibility, at least for the time
being. I felt guilty I’d put things off with him so I could hook up with Spike. I
guess I’d been punished for that. In the future, I was going to think for myself
and not let little Toby do my thinking for me—well, at least as much as I could
manage.
I worked The Scrambler with C.T. on my next shift. Was it just that I knew he
was my last chance or was he looking cuter than ever? I loved that blond hair of
his, especially the way his bangs fell down into his eyes. I hoped he’d never get
those bangs trimmed.
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I eyed C.T. as we worked. He was cute and I liked his slim body and nice little
butt. I feared I was thinking too much with little Toby again, so I shifted gears. I
had fun with C.T. Going to see Young Abe Lincoln with him was a blast! The only
thing that could’ve made it better was if we’d made out in the back of his car
afterward.
I wanted to take things slowly. I’d been all too willing to throw caution to the
wind and just go for it with Spike, and look where that’d got me. I was going to
take things one step at a time with C.T. I’d see if he was interested in me. That
would be the first step. If he was, I’d work on getting him to kiss me, and then
we’d take it from there. Actual sex could wait until later. Even though my body
was demanding it right now, it would just have to be patient.
I nervously asked C.T. if he’d like to have supper with me and he eagerly
agreed. I took that as a good sign. I might actually have a boyfriend before it grew
dark. Who knew?
C.T. and I both ordered pizza and drinks for supper. Instead of sitting on a
bench, I guided him to a grassy area behind The Graymoor Mansion where we
could watch The Poltergeist, and, more importantly, where I could speak with
him in private. I was going to have a hard enough time without strangers listen-
ing in.
I found it hard to speak. I’d been able to say all kinds of things to Spike and
others on the internet, but talking to C.T. face to face was quite another thing.
The cars of the giant roller coaster roared as we enjoyed our pepperoni pizza. I
tried to summon the courage to make my mouth work. Finally, I just set my
pizza down and turned to C.T. I knew I’d never ask him what I wanted to ask if I
didn’t force myself.
“C.T., I really had fun when we went out and I really like you, so…I was won-
dering if you wanted to…like…date me.”
I hoped my words didn’t sound as stupid to him as they did to me. I’d wanted
to be cooler about it. I guess I should’ve just been glad I didn’t stutter and get all
tongue-tied.
C.T. put down his pizza. “Um, Toby…I have fun with you too, but…I’m not
interested in guys, not like that. You’re cool as a friend and all, but I can’t…well,
you know.”
I was crushed, but at the same time a slight giggle escaped from my lips.
“C.T., I understand if you don’t want to date me. I know I’m not the hottest guy
around, but you are gay, right?”
“No.”
“Come on…I mean…”
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200
“I know what you mean!” said C.T., suddenly angry. “God! I’m so sick of this!
Why does everyone assume I’m gay?”
He skewered me with his eyes. I found it hard to speak.
“Well, you’re…you…you’re obviously gay.”
It was the wrong thing to say. C.T. turned red and actually trembled with
fury.
“Listen!” said C.T. “I know I have a soft voice and maybe I lisp a little bit.
Yeah, I use my hands as much as my mouth when I talk, but I’m not gay!”
“I’m…I’m sorry. I just assumed.”
“Everyone assumes! Shit! You know that real cute girl, Rebecca, who we
worked with last week in the Skee-Ball Pavilion? Well, I asked her out and you
know what she did? She laughed. She thought it was a joke. She didn’t even
believe me when I said I was straight! Do you have any idea how much that
hurts?”
“Uh, no,” I said.
“I’m so tired of everyone just assuming that about me. I’m gonna die a virgin,
because everyone has this stupid idea that I’m queer!”
“I’m really sorry,” I said, feeling extremely stupid and uncomfortable. “I
hope…I hope you’ll still be my friend.”
C.T. glared me for a moment, but then said, “Of course I’ll still be your
friend. You’re a cool guy, Toby, and you’re a lot of fun. We have much in com-
mon. I’m sorry. I know I probably overreacted, but I’ve just had to put up with
this shit so many times…”
“Are you okay with me being gay?”
“Dude, I don’t care about that,” said C.T.
“What about me…well, I just asked you out. I’m so embarrassed.”
“It’s okay, Toby. Listen, I can’t like you like that, okay? As long as you under-
stand that, we’re cool.”
“It won’t bother you that I asked you out? I mean, I have feelings for you.
I…”
“It’s okay, Toby. Unlike some guys, I don’t get all freaked out if I think
another guy is attracted to me, and believe me I’ve been approached by quite a
few. Like you, they assume I’m gay, so they think it’s safe. We’re cool, man. I just
hope you didn’t take anything I said the wrong way. I’m not down on gays.”
I nodded, feeling both foolish and relieved at the same time.
“Friends,” I said, extending my hand.
“Friends,” said C.T., shaking it. “And if you wanna go out tonight, as friends,
it’s cool.”
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I smiled, but the smile quickly faded. “Ah crap, I just remembered. I’m
grounded for a week!”
“So we’ll go out next week then,” said C.T.
My smile returned.
- 202 -
Mackenzie
I wasn’t sure how to deal with Toby’s forgiving attitude. Sure, I was glad he
wasn’t going to be pissed at me forever, but it seemed worse somehow than if
he’d hit me or screamed at me or something. I was grounded for a couple of
weeks, but that hardly seemed to cover it. I’d been grounded that long for telling
off Mr. Nichols at school, and he totally deserved it.
There was no getting Toby to go off on me, though, so I just had to deal with
it. I didn’t like how it put me on the hook. I felt like I had to be nice to him now.
I was in the mood to be kinder to him, but one of the true joys of my life was irri-
tating Toby. How long could I survive without doing it?
Being grounded was driving me crazy. It was all well and good for Toby. He
could go to work and be outside in the sun. Sentenced to detention in an amuse-
ment park; how weak was that? I was stuck indoors. I was already dying for the
feel of the sun on my face. I didn’t mind that Toby had it easy. He deserved it,
but that didn’t help me endure my imprisonment.
I had a lot of time to think about Billy while I was stuck in the house. He’d
played me for a fool. I should’ve known something wasn’t quite on the up and
up, especially when he wanted to blackmail Toby. I thought he’d backed down
from that idea, but I guess he hadn’t. He’d just taken it underground and worked
on Toby behind my back.
Knowing what I did now, some things I hadn’t given a second thought before
began to stand out—like how Billy was always talking about Toby. It was always
some putdown or joke, but I wondered now if there wasn’t more to it than I’d
thought at the time. I don’t know if Toby told me everything, but he had told me
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about Billy kissing him and feeling him. Was Billy queer? I’d had some suspicions
about that before, but now I was pretty certain. Well, he was most likely bi, but
he’d sure been after my brother, and he’d been after me. I was growing suspicious
about everything. Was Billy so willing to do it with me to get to Mandy and
Tami because he wanted me as bad as them?
I had thought Billy was my friend, but he’d used me. I’d played right into his
hands, too. He must’ve been delighted when I told him about Toby’s Undergear
catalogs and about his Gay.com screen name. Maybe he’d been after something
like that all along. I’d been used and I didn’t like it. I wanted to kick Billy’s ass,
but he was stronger than I was.
I hopped on the Bowflex and worked off some of my frustration. I liked to feel
my muscles working. Maybe I could keep working out and then go and beat Billy
senseless. That’s what he deserved. Toby and I could’ve worked him over good,
but I was hurting so bad I didn’t feel up to it. At least Toby had nailed him in the
nuts. He got him so hard it almost hurt my balls just watching. I hoped Billy
would never be able to have kids.
Working out got me all hot and sweaty, but it didn’t keep me busy nearly long
enough. Being grounded sure sucked in the summer. It was way worse than being
grounded during school. Of course, now that Billy wasn’t my friend, there wasn’t
as much to do. Of course, I could’ve hooked up with some of my other friends.
I’d been kind of neglecting them. I hoped they weren’t pissed. If they were, I
deserved it. I’d messed up just about everything.
By the time Toby came back from Phantom World, I was pacing the room like
a caged tiger. I felt like a lightning bolt with nowhere to strike.
Toby sat down at his desk and started reading. It was a wonder Mom and Dad
even bothered to ground him. For Toby, it wasn’t a punishment. It was just a
chance to escape to one of his fictional worlds. I looked at the book he was read-
ing: Prince Caspian. He was working his way through The Chronicles of Narnia
again. He must’ve read it five times already. Someone had to save the boy.
“Hey, Toby, wanna work out with me?”
Toby looked up from his book suspiciously. I guess I couldn’t blame him for
that.
“Come on, really, work out with me? You can get all buff, and maybe it’ll help
you get a boyfriend.”
Toby smiled sadly.
“I don’t think anything will help me with that.”
“Ah, come on, bro. You’re okay. You’ll find someone. Work out with me?”
Mark A. Roeder
204
I’d used the Bowflex not all that long ago, but it wouldn’t hurt me to do it
again. Besides, I wanted to start doing at least a few things with my brother, and
Billy sure wouldn’t be my workout partner anymore.
“Okay,” he said, putting down his book. He walked over to the machine. “I
don’t really know how to do this.”
“It’s easy. I’ll show ya. We’ll start with bench presses.”
Toby was pathetically weak, but I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I encouraged
him all I could. I owed him that much. To my surprise, he seemed to like work-
ing out. I was willing to bet he’d never touched a weight machine in his entire
life. It’d do him good for sure. Also to my surprise, I found myself enjoying my
time with Toby. He was more fun than I’d remembered. When I was real little,
he used to play with me. I remembered us building whole cities in the sandbox
and driving cars and trucks around in it. We’d have crashes and fires and usually
destroy the whole city, pretending it was an earthquake or something. I’d lost
Billy as a friend, but maybe I’d gained a new one in my brother.
After we worked out, Toby returned to his book and I went back to pacing.
“I can’t stand this,” I said. “I’m going out.”
“If you get caught, Mom and Dad will just ground you for longer,” said Toby.
It was true.
“Cover for me?” I asked. It was something I’d never asked of Toby before.
“Okay,” he said, smiling mischievously. I was shocked and wondered if I was
rubbing off on him.
I made a fake me in my bed.
“Just tell Mom or Dad I’m taking a nap if they come in and ask. I promise I
won’t be gone long. I’ve just gotta go run or something.”
“I’ll cover you,” said Toby, a bit nervously. I smiled and slipped out the win-
dow.
Our room was upstairs, but I’d climbed down the trellis many times before. I
was careful to avoid the thorns from the roses. There were dozens of them, all red
and climbing their way to our window. I was surrounded by their scent as I low-
ered myself to the ground.
It was still pretty light out, but I took care to creep under the windows and
then bolt for the hedge so Mom or Dad wouldn’t see me leave.
The sun was almost gone, but at least I was outside. I started running, feeling
like I’d escaped from a cage. Ah, freedom! I ran down the sidewalks and streets
until my breath came in gasps and my side hurt. There was a thin sheen of sweat
covering my face, and my shirt stuck to my body. It felt good. I slowed to a walk
and soon found myself in the park. I was hoping maybe I’d find one of my
Mark A. Roeder
205
friends there, but no such luck. There were plenty of people out enjoying the
beautiful evening, but no one I knew.
I stopped to gaze at the setting sun. The sky was all red and purple, and the
few clouds were lit up and almost looked as if they were on fire. I rarely took the
time to look at sunsets. That was a Toby thing, but if he could work out, then I
could stop and look at a sunset.
“Hey, loser,” said a voice behind me. It was Billy.
I turned and fixed him with a stare. “What do you want?” I asked angrily.
“Dude, chill. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for taking advantage of Toby? For beating him up and doing whatever
else it was you were doing to him? Sorry for beating me up?”
“Hey, man, you attacked me. I was just defending myself.”
“Bullshit! Were you defending yourself from Toby, too? You lured him out
there. You…”
“Chill, Mackenzie. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It is to Toby, and it is to me.” I couldn’t believe Billy was trying to blow
everything off like it just didn’t matter, like he’d done nothing wrong.
“That’s your problem, Mackenzie. You get all worked up over nothing.”
“Nothing? Like you trying to get me to have sex with you was nothing?”
“We’ve been all through that! That was just to get to Mandy and Tami.”
“Yeah, sure it was. If I asked Tami about it, what would she say? Would she
tell me it was her idea or yours?” A flicker of discomfort flashed across Billy’s eyes,
but only for a moment.
“Like Tami would even speak to the likes of you.”
“If she’ll talk to you, she’ll talk to anybody,” I said. I knew I was asking to get
my butt kicked, but I didn’t care. If Billy came at me, I’d try to nail him in the
nuts like Toby did.
“You’re a waste of my time, Mackenzie.”
“And you’re a lousy friend. I wish we’d never been friends.”
“Well, guess what? Your wish is granted, because we never were friends,
Mackenzie. You were never cool enough to be my friend. I thought there was
hope for you, but you’ll never be cool! You’re just a pathetic loser like your
brother!”
Billy turned on his heel and walked away. I just stood there and watched him
go, taking my one chance to be accepted with him. Billy was my ticket for getting
into the cool crowd, but I felt no regret whatsoever as he disappeared into the dis-
tance. If I had to be like Billy to be cool, then Billy was right, I’d never be cool. It
was too high a price to pay.
Mark A. Roeder
206
I glanced at the last moments of the sunset. I felt like I had to start my life all
over. It didn’t scare me, though; instead, it gave me a feeling of freedom. I could
be anyone I wanted to be. One thing was for sure. I wasn’t about to be another
Billy.
When the last rays of the sun had disappeared, I walked home. I didn’t want
my brother to get in trouble for me. I’d realized at last who my real friend was.
- 207 -
Orlando
I went into work early the day after Krista caught me with Kerry. I had my sched-
ule changed so I wouldn’t have to work with her. I couldn’t face her, not yet. So
this was what it felt like to be the bad guy? I knew I’d done wrong. I’d known it
all along, but I didn’t have the willpower to resist Kerry, and it had cost me my
girlfriend and my self-respect.
I wanted to lay the blame on Kerry, but I couldn’t. He was far from innocent,
but he hadn’t forced me into anything, as he’d pointed out. It’s not like he’d
raped me. It’s not like I couldn’t have walked away at any moment. I chose to do
what I did with him. I wanted it. I chose not to walk away from what I knew was
wrong. If I hadn’t been dating Krista, it would’ve been different, but I was dating
her. I could’ve broken up with her and then seen Kerry, but I didn’t do that
either. I just plodded along, letting Kerry lead me into things I knew I shouldn’t
be doing. I’d fallen from my pedestal.
I knew I had to face Krista. I had to give her the chance to scream at me and
spit in my face. I owed her that. Even if I’d been cowardly enough to hide from
her, I couldn’t have kept it up forever. Much of the summer still lay ahead, and
our paths were bound to cross. I couldn’t do it quite yet, however. I needed some
time.
I tried to lose myself in Phantom World. I tried to find the joy I’d discovered
previously in the flowers, the roar of the roller coasters and the laughter of the
guests. It was odd how I could be in the same place, seeing the same things, and
yet feel so differently about it all. I supposed I’d be happy again someday, but I
didn’t even feel I deserved happiness anymore.
Mark A. Roeder
208
My eyes met those of my former girlfriend as I was clocking out at the end of
my day. I put my timecard away and stepped outside, waiting for her. I wasn’t
ready to face her, but would I ever be ready? On the spur of the moment, I
decided to get it over with.
Krista came out, saw me, and then turned to go the other way.
“Krista, wait,” I called out. She stopped, but didn’t turn to look at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She turned. Her eyes finally met mine, and they had tears in them.
“Is that all you have to say?”
“No. I know you hate me now and that I’ve ruined everything between us. I’m
sorry for that, because, whether you believe it or not, I really care about you.”
“You had a funny way of showing it.”
I didn’t retort. I deserved what she’d said and I knew it.
“I don’t expect you to understand. I don’t even understand myself. I don’t
know why I did what I did. I was weak. I gave into a temptation I didn’t even
know was there. Kerry was the first…well, that doesn’t matter and it doesn’t
excuse anything I did. I’m just sorry I did it. I thought I was better than that, but
I guess I was wrong.”
Krista just looked at me, her eyes glistening with tears. I knew I’d hurt her,
and I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself for that.
“I don’t know what else to say,” I said, “except that I’m sorry—sorry for every-
thing.”
Krista gazed into my eyes one last time and walked away without a word. Just
before she was out of sight, I whispered, “Goodbye, Krista” and shed tears of my
own.
I wiped my face and started to walk home. It was a long hike, but I needed the
time to think. I almost couldn’t believe how badly I’d screwed up my life. Things
like this didn’t happen to me. They happened to someone else.
There was nothing to do but go on. I guess my only real choice was to learn
what I could from my mistakes and try to be better for it. What I really wanted to
do was lie down in the dirt and die, but I couldn’t. My mom depended on me. I
couldn’t leave her. I just hoped she’d never find out how much like my father I’d
become.
I walked on, my thoughts unusually quiet. It was as if my brain knew it
needed a rest. I was thankful for that small mercy. My thoughts had left me no
peace since Krista opened that door and saw me on my knees in front of her
brother.
Mark A. Roeder
209
Some fifteen minutes later, the all too familiar Camaro passed me, slowed and
pulled to the side of the road. Kerry got out and waited for me to catch up to
him. He was shirtless again, but wearing jeans this time. Despite everything, I
was tempted by him and I hated myself for it.
“You look like someone who could use a ride,” said Kerry.
“Not from you.” I was going to walk on past him, but he grabbed my arm and
forced me to stop.
“Hey, Orlando, I’m sorry about what happened.”
“Are you?”
“Hell, yeah! Krista’s mega-pissed at me.”
“Well, Krista’s no longer my girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry, but, that kinda makes things easier, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t believe you!” I said, angrily.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for Krista to see us. You know I didn’t.
I wish it hadn’t happened, but what’s done is done. She’ll get over it and so will
you. We might as well make the best of it.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Come on, man. You know you like it with me. You know you want more.”
I started to walk away again. Kerry grabbed me and pushed me up against the
car, his muscular body mere inches from mine as he held me in place with his
arm across my chest.
“You—know—you—want—it,” he said slowly and seductively. He pushed
himself against me, my excitement was obvious. Kerry smiled.
He just held himself against me for several moments, gazing seductively into
my eyes. I felt myself weakening. I wanted him so bad I could hardly stand it. I
felt as if he held me pinned to the car forever, although it was mere seconds. My
heart raced.
“Get off me!” I yelled and shoved him away. I stalked off. Not this time, I told
myself.
“You’ll be back,” said Kerry.
I turned on my heel and stared at him. He was gorgeous on the outside, but
what was inside was far less attractive.
“Don’t you even care what you’ve done?” I asked.
Kerry didn’t answer. I turned away from him once more and left him standing
beside his car.
Mark A. Roeder
210
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
“Cheer up, man. You walked away from him in the end,” said Eddie.
“Yeah, but I should’ve walked away from him the first time, and who’s to say I
will the next?”
“You just have to take life one day at a time, Orlando. Don’t try to live your
whole future.”
I shook my head. Eddie seemed to have grown wiser in the last few weeks.
“Hey, why don’t I ever see you smoking weed anymore?” I asked.
“I’ve started dating an older woman, and she said I had to cut it out,” said
Eddie, a bit sheepishly.
“An older woman?”
“Yeah.”
“Why haven’t you told me about her?”
“You’ve had enough to think about lately.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“And, well…I was waiting until I could come up with the right way to tell
you. I didn’t want you freaking out or getting upset or something.”
“How old is this older woman?”
“Your mom’s age.”
“Man, that is older. Is that even legal?”
“Yeah, just barely, but it is. She’s wonderful, Orlando. I’ve never met anyone
like her before. I can’t believe she said yes when I asked her out.”
“I’m happy for you, Eddie. You deserve someone nice. At least one person I
know has someone.”
“Actually, two,” said Eddie. He suddenly found his shoes to be of great inter-
est.
“Two?”
“Yeah. You know how I said she was your mom’s age? Well, she’s exactly your
mom’s age—exactly.”
Eddie looked at me again. He was peering into my eyes, seeking for compre-
hension. It was almost as if he was saying…but that wasn’t even possible. Eddie
kept staring at me, his face reddening.
“You don’t mean…”
“I’m dating your mom, dude.”
I just stared at Eddie. It had to be a joke.
“That’s real funny, Eddie.”
Mark A. Roeder
211
“I’m serious, Orlando. I’m not jerking you around.” His tone was solemn,
more sober than I’d ever heard before.
I just sat there as moments stretched into minutes. Finally, Eddie put his hand
on my shoulder.
“We’re best friends, Orlando. I know this might weird you out, but I really
like your mom. She says I make her feel young again. I don’t know where things
between us will go, but I’ll take care of her, man. I won’t hurt her.”
“Whoa,” I said, shaking my head. I started to speak, but no words would
come out. What could I say? “Whoa.”
“If it bothers you, I’ll stop seeing her,” said Eddie, “but I really care about
her.”
I could tell from the look in his eyes it was true, but still, I didn’t speak.
“So, what do you say?” asked Eddie.
Never, in a million years, would I have ever thought I’d be sitting there by
Eddie, with him asking permission to date my mom. It was like something off a
soap opera. Mom had been alone for a long time, though. The string of losers
she’d dated hadn’t made her happy. I wanted her to be happy, more than any-
thing. Eddie was my best friend. He was kind of a burnout in some ways, but he
was also a real nice guy. Now that I thought about it, he was probably the nicest
guy Mom could find. I was a little freaked out by my best friend dating my mom,
but did it really matter?
“Who am I to stand in the way of true love?” I said at last.
“You mean it?” asked Eddie.
I thought before answering. “Yeah, I do.”
We sat there in silence for a bit more, and then Eddie turned to me. “Don’t
worry, dude. Like I said, if we get married, I won’t make you call me daddy.”
I looked at Eddie and a laugh escaped from my lips. It was the first since Krista
had discovered me with her brother. Boy, was life weird or what?
- 212 -
Toby
“Mind if I sit here?”
I looked up. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t seen Orlando approach. That
was no surprise. I was taking little note of the dozens of park guests walking past,
so one boy could hardly be expected to draw my attention.
“I guess Krista told you about…” began Orlando, but his voice faltered. The
calliope music of the merry-go-round wafted through the air, an odd contrast to
Orlando’s serious expression.
“Yes,” I said. “You hurt her.”
“I know.” That was all Orlando said for several moments. Finally, he spoke
again. “I didn’t mean to.”
I gazed at him. It’d been a long time since I’d seen anyone that downcast.
Orlando’s expression, the tears that rimmed his eyes, and the slump of his shoul-
ders spoke volumes more than his words.
“I should go,” said Orlando, “you don’t want to be near me. I’m filth.”
I grabbed his wrist as he stood.
“Sit,” I said. He did as he was told. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“Yeah, well, I’m about as far away as you can get,” said Orlando.
“Why did you do it?” I asked him. “Why did you cheat on Krista?”
“Stupidity, sheer stupidity, weakness and lust.”
“She said you cheated on her with her brother.”
Orlando looked supremely embarrassed. “Yes,” he admitted, “I did. I let him
seduce me. I just wasn’t ready for Kerry. I’d never faced that before. I didn’t even
know I liked guys.”
Mark A. Roeder
213
“You didn’t know?” I asked, forgetting to keep the incredulous tone out of my
voice.
“No, I didn’t. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“I’ve known since I was eight.”
Orlando turned quickly and looked at me. “So, you’re…”
“Gay,” I finished for him.
“I’m bi, I guess,” said Orlando. “Here lately, I’m just not sure of anything. I’m
so confused.”
“Life’s not easy, is it?”
“It sure isn’t. Krista is really heartbroken, isn’t she?”
“Yes. She’ll get over it, but it’ll take time.”
“I’m so sorry I hurt her, so sorry,” said Orlando. The tears rimming his eyes
very nearly spilled out.
“I know,” I said, hoping to comfort him. I didn’t like what he’d done to
Krista, not at all, but it was obvious Orlando wasn’t just some cheating bastard
who got his kicks from breaking girls’ hearts. He was in pain, too, and I found
myself feeling as sorry for him as for Krista. “It’s an ill wind that blows no one
any good,” I said.
Orlando peered at me, “Shakespeare?”
“I think. I’ve never read it. I just heard that somewhere and it seems to apply.”
“Does it ever!”
“We all make mistakes, Orlando.”
“Even you?”
I laughed. “When did I become perfect? My mistakes could fill volumes. I just
finished days and days of chatting with someone on the internet who wasn’t even
real. This is what I got for it,” I said, pointing to the bruises on my face.
“You got beat up?”
“Yep, because I was stupid. It could’ve been worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I learned something. I got hurt, in more ways than one, but
I think I came away with more than I paid for.”
“Kerry…” said Orlando. “I’m so weak when he’s around. After all that’s hap-
pened, I very nearly went with him again. I came so close to letting him seduce
me yet again, even after I’d broken Krista’s heart.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No. For the first time, I walked away from him.”
“Then maybe you’ve learned something, too.”
“Maybe, but if so, I’ve learned it too late.”
Mark A. Roeder
214
“It’s never too late,” I said.
“It is for Krista and me.” The tears he was holding in trickled down his cheeks,
though he made not a sound.
“I’ll never find a boyfriend,” I said. “I wasted my time on a fake and then mis-
took a straight boy for gay. The only remote possibility left is…” I broke off, real-
izing what I was about to say.
“Who?” asked Orlando.
I nervously shifted my butt on the bench. I looked down at the ground.
“I’d rather not say.”
“Who?” asked Orlando once more.
“You,” I said, looking at him and then quickly away. When I looked at him
again, he was blushing.
“I think I need to explore what I’ve discovered about myself,” said Orlando,
gazing at me. “I’ve got all these feelings inside me now that were never there
before: feelings for boys. At least, I don’t think they were there before. If they
were, I sure never knew it.”
“Maybe you just need someone to talk to, someone who’ll take things slow,
someone who won’t just try to get you into bed.” I held Orlando’s gaze.
Orlando looked at me, smiled and spoke. “Not too long ago, a wise old man
told me that whatever happens was meant to happen, so we should try to make
the best of whatever life throws our way.”
Orlando’s eyes never left mine. I grinned. I could feel my face going red, but I
reached out and took his hand. I had the feeling that things might not be so
hopeless after all.
The End
Document Outline
- Cover
- Phantom World
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Introduction
- June 2003
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
- Mackenzie
- Orlando
- Toby
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