Fall (6 page)

“Come on.”

She was waiting for me on her stomach. I put my hands on either side of her, then my elbows. I was shaking and lowered my chest onto her back. I was glad I was taller than her; my middle was below hers. I didn’t want her to feel how small I was. I tried keeping my weight off but she said, “Don’t treat me like a girl.” I felt calm for half a second, thinking it was just a competition.

“I’ve gotta beat six,” she said. She seemed serious but then she started laughing. She pushed up and I almost fell off. She did it again and groaned a bit, and I liked the noise. Then she started laughing hysterically—maybe because she felt how small I was. I got mad at her and rolled off and she was still lying facedown in the sand, laughing. She looked over at me and I looked away. I turned my hips away and crossed my legs in case she could see.

“Look at him. He’s won and he’s gone all quiet. Don’t think you won,” she said. “You did not win.”

She got up and straddled me. She took off her tank-top. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were smaller than I had thought breasts could be and were pale from not seeing the sun. It was a boy’s chest with triangles of white from her bikini. I felt a little sick
again. She leaned forward and pinned my arms on either side of my head and she kissed me. I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped and sick and I wanted to bite her. Our teeth banged together. I pushed against her arms, tried to sit up, and she fought against me.

She was still on top of me and started sucking on my neck. I sucked on hers and made her shout OUCH! because I sucked too hard, and I flipped her over. Her legs were wrapped together around me and I pushed against her, then lifted her body up with mine and pounded her back against the sand. She said OUCH! again and it excited me so I pounded her again.

I have gone over this so many times.

I rolled onto my back and she kissed around my ears and her hand went under my shirt and started going lower. I didn’t want her to feel me.

Her breath was in my ear and her hand was moving down. I wanted to grab her arm and either force it away or force it down fast. She kissed me and tried to undo my jeans. The material was so thick and unworn that she couldn’t undo the buttons. I could feel her struggling and I didn’t want to help her. She kept trying and kissing me and said “Come on” into my mouth, and with so much strength she forced her hand under the waistband. She touched me and I grabbed her arm, shouted, and soaked her hand.

Three days before I went back to St. Ebury, my mother said, “I’ll miss you when you go. I don’t like seeing how much you’re changing.” I felt like she could see all my secrets. “I’m missing all your changes.” She smiled. I felt like crying and I frowned at her.

I spent several hours at the gym the next day, but Meg wasn’t there. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted to meet her and do it right this time, be kinder or better with my hands. When I left her on the beach I don’t think I scared her, but I wanted to make sure.

I checked in at the gym as often as I could. I wandered in every hour or so, got a smile or a “Mate!” from the caretaker. I had no other way to get in touch with her. It was the same the next three days—and then I had to fly back to Canada.

I decided to leave a letter for her at the gym. I wanted to give her my address. I thought of writing something brief, but I decided to go home and put some thought into it. I wrote it on my second-last night and left it with the caretaker.

Dear Meg,

I have been thinking about you. I have been coming to the gym but haven’t seen you. I hope you are all right and are not upset with me.

I think about the first time I saw you. You were in your own world, working on yourself. You shape yourself like you are Pygmalion as well as his creation. You are so quiet and resolute. What is your world like?

This summer has been the best of my life. This upside-down summer in the middle of winter. I can’t tell you what I have to go back to.

I think it is a miracle that we met. We are from such different places. We speak a different language. I find your Australianisms so exotic and funny and beautiful. I feel like we have connected despite our differences.

This year I have been in love with someone else. I have given her all my energy and thought. I know you do not want to hear this. But I am telling you because meeting you has banished her from my mind. I think only of you.

Meg, you are so strong and silent. I hope that I did not frighten you on the beach. I did not know how to say goodbye and I said some things I did not mean.

Perhaps this is too much for you. If you feel like writing to me, please do. It takes weeks for letters to get to Canada so I will be patient, but full of hope.

 

Noel

I left the address of St. Ebury and never heard from her.

I think about that summer so often. It changed when I spoke about it, when I told Julius about it the following year. That summer is when I began to change and develop some strength.

I remember late one night during that next term I went to Shaughnessy’s room. He was the senior that year who didn’t have a
roommate. It was two in the morning and I pushed open his door and stood by his bed. I stared at him for a long time. He woke up and was frightened. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and he never really bothered me again. I turned and walked toward his door.

“You’re a fuckin’ freak, get out of here,” he said as I was leaving.

And now I somehow feel like I have become that presence at the edge of my own bed. For decades, the air in all my rooms has had the chill of things deliberately ignored.

M
Y HAIR LOOKS
good.

I ate too much salami.

I’m humming.

I’m humming a song I don’t know.

No one knows this song I’m humming.

I’m gonna choose a song I know and I’ll hum it.

I’ll whistle it.

Why am I humming and whistling.

My hair looks good.

My teeth look good.

Scar on my lip.

From a zit.

She has a smile like, I don’t know, something light and white and wide, but small and red and nothing anyone’s ever seen, mouth-wise.

I’ll tell you, my friend in my head: if you can look at her when she smiles and not smile your own smile, I will be honest and clean for the rest of my life.

Smile I say.

Why she says.

Just smile.

She’s smiling.

See.

I’m gonna learn a lot this year and run faster and generally smell better. I’m gonna flick the switch, click, on the rest of my life and all the rooms will be new, click.

This blood is new and my father’s house is huge.

I’ll pack one bag, bring it to school, kiss my girl, maybe get a handjob standing up somewhere, maybe not. Empty the bag, come back later, pack, and empty, and I’ll be busy and smart and practical.

I’ll meet her again, tomorrow at ten.

Socks.

Cleats.

Pads.

Where’s my pads.

Under the bed.

Under the bed.

Every old thing and new thing and lost thing and secret is under the beds of the world.

I’m smart.

I’m gonna look at those and jack off.

I’m gonna hide them somewhere better.

I’m gonna fart.

I’m farting.

Pads.

What else is under here.

Funny.

Ho.

Funny.

K.

Boxers.

These ones.

These ones.

These ones.

Those.

These.

Those.

Those.

These.

Those.

These.

No.

Shirts.

You can’t plan. You can’t say I’m definitely gonna wear this shirt in two months on a Wednesday.

I’m not gonna wear this shirt on any fuckin Wednesday it scratches like a cat.

White.

White.

Blue.

Blue.

In a year I won’t need a suit.

I’ll have a nap.

No.

Snack.

No.

Snack and a nap.

Yes.

I want some pepperoni.

Jules says Chuck.

Yes says I.

I’ve been calling for a week he says.

What a sweetheart I say.

So when are you going in.

Tomorrow I say. I’m packed.

Packed and ready he says.

You I say.

I’m here now he says. There. Let’s meet he says.

I’m gonna have a snack and a nap and a dinner with dad.

Oh he says. Anyways. I’ve had a look around and a think, and I believe I’m not getting laid this year.

That’s too bad.

Yeah.

I saw Fall last night in the limo I say. William helped me out again.

Nice he says.

Fur coat.

Always the older woman in the fur coat with the bush on the hairy side whenever I jack off.

I’m sorry Fall.

I’m sorry.

Warm hairy bush.

Gyah.

I’m sorry Fall I love you.

Dad’s looking solid and good and I hope I don’t grow all those chins.

Gotta cancel dinner pal he says. I’m sorry.

It’s ok.

On the weekend he says.

You bet.

Moving to school tomorrow.

You bet I say.

He chucks my shoulder.

I chuck his.

He holds my shoulders.

I hold his.

Smiles make noises.

Remember when you visited Vermont.

Yeah she says.

And you were wearing that green dress.

Yeah.

I remember your eyes in it. The green.

It was short she says.

I remember your legs I say.

She’s smiling.

I gave it to my sister she says.

I dreamt about her mother’s mouth around my cock.

I like sharing clothes she says. It feels like a hug. Like I’m wearing my sister she says.

Your sister’s wearing you.

Mm.

I loved you in that dress I say.

I can get another one she says.

There’s gum on the ground.

She stepped in it.

I should have warned her.

I’m taking functions, calculus, and algebra she says.

You’re nuts I say.

She’s smart I’m thinking.

I know she says.

I’m gonna buy my essays this year I say. And numbers. I’ll buy all the numbers I’ll need for algebra. I’ll hire someone, you know, to put the . . . put the numbers down the right way.

I’m gonna give up on that joke.

I think this’ll be a fun year she says.

Yeah.

We’ll both work hard.

Yeah. I’m gonna eat more fish I say. It makes you strong.

Your arms look good she says.

I love her.

We’re walking.

Salmon. Stuff like that I say. Makes you smarter.

Good she says.

She’s tall.

We’re sitting.

Walk past us and say They’re a couple.

She puts her head on my knee.

Sarah’s gonna sneak into the kitchen and make brownies she says.

She’s excited.

I’m smiling. I’m not excited.

How’s she gonna work those big ovens I say.

I don’t know she says.

We’re hugging.

I totally forgot to ask who your roommate is.

Wink I say.

Wink she says.

The one-eyed guy. Rince. Reece. You know. Noel Reece.

Really.

Yeah.

I guess that’ll be quiet she says.

Yeah.

We’re hugging.

I kiss her neck.

He’s grown I say. Over the summer.

Everyone’s bigger and wearing different colours I’m thinking.

I kiss her neck.

Hm she says.

She squirms and squeezes and I’m thinking about tits and cats and baths and lips.

It still feels like summer she says.

Jules.

Hey.

Hey Julius.

Hey.

How was your summer man.

Short.

I hear ya.

Yours.

Shorter.

Ha.

Right on.

See you at practice.

I’m a green and white breath with a ball.

Check out this goal.

I had a dream she’s saying. That I could fly.

I’ve had that dream.

I guess everyone’s had that dream she says. Except my mom was hanging underneath me, from like a rope. But she wasn’t pulling me down. There was no weight, right.

I see I say.

Chapel: Bong!

English: Argue

Math: What?

Lunchtime: Eat.

Chuck says Big one Saturday at Brown’s. I’ve signed out to Ant’s aunt’s, Jules, so don’t worry about putting me up.

There’s mustard on his lips ’cause it’s Hot Dog Tuesday, they feed us like kids when it’s Tuesday.

My dad’s home this weekend anyway I’m saying.

You don’t have to be back early says Ant. Do you.

There’s mustard on his lips.

No I say. If Chuck stayed with me I would. Do what you want, Dad says, Unless someone’s with you. Then you do what I want. Did I tell you the vagina joke the president told my dad.

Yes.

Yeah.

The big vagina joke.

Yeah says Chuck.

I’m hungry and I’ll have another dog.

Pass me the tray I say and I’m grabbing the last dog.

Bun.

I want to get some vodka for Saturday says Chuck. One of those litre bottles.

He’s gonna sit in the corner and yawn his barf all over Brown’s furniture says Ant.

I’m chuckling.

There’s a little blue fire in me.

By the end of the year we will all be able to party legally I say.

I’ve said the same thing every hour this week.

I love repeating myself.

I’m the guy with opinions.

Chuck pours milk for me and I say Thanks chum because I like that word: chum.