Malcolm, Chapter 5

Malcolm

Chapter 5 Summer 1950

by Michael Peterson

Be advised that in the following one will find graphic sexual depiction between minors and minors and adults. The story is fiction but based on real characters, events, places and situations. There is no relationship between the names used and that of any real person.

The end of the school year was a time of uncertainty. Academically, I came in second due to an eighty-four on my Catechism exam. I wrote some answers as I thought they should be, not what the Baltimore Catechism said they were. And I only got ninety-eight on the geography exam because I misspelled the Tigris River as the Tigres.

However, the excellent grades I got in my exams and overall for the year didn't mean my father would allow me any freedom. It was certain he had something planned to occupy my time and keep me away from Freddy but I had no idea what.

On weekends, I had to mow the lawn, clean and scrub the porches, sweep the drive, walks and basement. I was still able to get away Sundays to supposedly see my friend Philip but my parents were beginning to wonder why he never came any more to visit me. They were completely unaware that my friendship with Philip had been destroyed under the jackboot of a Catholic priest who had apparently declared me a danger to his eternal salvation. For a while, I claimed he had to stay near the house because his father wasn't well. Fortunately, mother had lost Philip's mother's telephone number. I claimed to have misplaced my copy and kept forgetting to get one from him.

By the middle of June, I knew that wasn't going to work any more. My father wanted that phone number or I didn't go back the following week

Desperate, I found my grandparents phone number in mother's address book and called to ask if I could come over there on weekends.

'Don't you have chores on Saturdays?' asked my grandmother.

'How about Saturday nights?'

'Let me speak with your mother and I'll let you know.'

I felt sure that would be a dead end. I was only seeing Freddy once a week and was about to lose that.

That week, I was informed I was to attend a YMCA day camp for the duration of the summer vacation. Every day, I took the streetcar downtown and walked a few blocks to the Y where we basically did all day what we used to do just Saturdays. There were swimming, arts and crafts, gym sports like basketball and volleyball, natural science and reading. We carried lunch boxes as in school. As uninteresting as the kids in the Saturday group had been, this bunch was worse. Don't get me wrong, there were some very attractive boys with handsome faces, nice bodies and decent sized if not spectacular cocks. There were even two who rivaled Tommy Atkins and Martin O'Malley from my school. However, none of them showed the least interest in friendship with me, even recognition that I existed.

Over the first three days, many friendships and groups were formed, none including me. Once again, I'd been relegated to the sad group of the unpopular, the same lower social class I inhabited at school.

Philip was not in our group or any other that I saw. Even though he said he wouldn't, it was possible he still came on Saturdays when I no longer did. There was no way for me to know. I asked the secretary in the youth program office but was told she couldn't divulge such information.

From the first day, I started plotting how to escape for a few hours some days and go see Freddy. After morning roll call, no one seemed to keep track of who was and wasn't there. A good example was the daily visit to the main city library a block away where a young woman read stories designed for seven year olds, boring for kids our age, well, at least for me. I was already an avid reader and had completed dozens of books far more interesting than what she was reading and had done so much faster. By Wednesday, the third day, several of us were skipping out of the library session, wandering off to explore

the rest of the huge complex. As I saw no potential for a meaningful friendship with any of the other nine and ten year olds in our group of forty-two, I wandered alone.

Each day, I stayed away a little longer, not returning to the Y with the group but walking in during Arts and Crafts twenty minutes late. The teacher asked where I'd been but apparently hadn't noticed I'd been missing. On Monday of the second week, after a Sunday trapped in the house for not providing Philip's telephone number, I timed my return for afternoon gym, skipping Arts and Crafts altogether. Not a word was said. Tuesday, I left after swimming which preceded lunch, wandered all over downtown clear to the harbor and came back for gym. Again, not a word. Wednesday, right after swimming, I dressed, walked quickly to the side door and out. I nearly ran the three blocks to the streetcar. From the end of the line, I went straight through the woods to Freddy's house.

After giving him my most powerful hug, I told him of my problem with Sunday.

'If'n you can't come, I'll know why so don't worry none.'

We went to our place on the stream for some body unification.

After his second orgasm, still plenty hard and horny enough to go for a third, Freddy asked, 'What gonna happen when them people sees you's missin'?'

'Nobody seems to care if we're there or not. Yesterday, two other kids weren't in gym when I came back to the Y and nobody said anything. I'll bet I could skip twice a week and nobody would say a word. Anyhow, I'm gonna try, maybe three.'

'I'm skeerd yo' father gonna find out and beat yo' ass sumthin' terrble.'

'Fuck him,' I said for the first time in my life and felt very comfortable doing so. 'I wanna be with you not some stupid jerks at the YMCA.'

Freddy's hips moved his cock around inside me. I reached back and embraced

Freddy's head.

Saturday before lunch, my father and mother were both out. The maid was washing clothes in the pantry. I used the back hall telephone to call my grandparents. They weren't home.

That evening when my parents were both in the living room, I called from the kitchen. My grandfather answered. He promised to speak with my mother.

'But she'll just say no.'

'Now you don't know that. Let me try. I'll come by one day and discuss it with her.

The following week, I left after lunch on Tuesday and Thursday to spend wonderful afternoons with Freddy. Wednesday and Friday, I was alert to any staff looks or remarks about my absence but there was absolutely nothing. Both days, I also noticed the absence of another boy from our group.

On Monday, I watched to see if he would again disappear. Sure enough, he didn't return from what I assumed was a trip to the bathroom shortly after swimming class began. After ten minutes, I went to look for him but he was nowhere to be seen. A brief while later, he re-appeared back in the pool. I'd checked the toilet stalls but had seen no boy feet under the door of any. There was no way to ask as he went straight to a man resting on the wall at the corner of the pool.

By that time, I was ready to go to Freddy's so I dressed slowly after we left the pool, waiting for the others to leave so I could walk out unseen. After a few moments of silence, seeing I was alone, I picked up my lunch box and headed for the side door only to hear another set of small footsteps on the flight of stairs above me. I tiptoed up just in time to see the boy I'd been watching go out the side door with a small duffle bag over his shoulder.

From inside, watching through the glass window in the top of the door, I saw him cross the street and walk to the next block and into the midblock main door of the city library.

I ran after him, determined to see if he knew something I didn't about safely escaping the Y program. It took me over half an hour of walking stairways and hallways to find him. He was in one of the huge science display rooms on the library's third floor, studiously reading the explanation printed on a glass enclosed electrical display.

Louis Bosworth was a nice looking, slim ten year old with pretty blue gray eyes and a nervous, fidgety way about him. What I had noticed particularly was his large cock that I calculated would be a chunky three inches when hard. His character, however, didn't suggest a boy who'd be interested in friendship with me or anyone else, much less sex. He was occasionally a loner like me but seemed to enjoy swimming and at least some of the crafts program.

Figuring I had nothing to lose approaching him, I boldly walked up and said, 'Hi'.

His head snapped in my direction. There was concern on his face but it melted away when he recognized me from his group. 'Oh, hi.'

He returned to his reading.

'How come you aren't at the Y?'

'The counselors know where I am and don't say anything,' he answered without taking his eyes off the printed page.

'Why?'

He sighed impatiently then, after a pause, answered. 'Because they're nice guys. And they know what I'm doing here is better than throwing around some stupid ball.'

It was safe to assume Louis Bosworth was as uninterested in sports as I. However, I didn't immediately follow up on his shaky excuse. My eyes and mind were drawn to the electrical arc display in front of us and began reading about the Jacob's Ladder that ran a ragged row of lightening like sparks up between two rods every time a button was pushed.

'That's just like in the Frankenstein movies,' I commented.

'They're stupid. Frankenstein is impossible. You can make muscles move with electricity but you can't make a brain think after it's dead.'

I considered that. 'But what if you take if from a live person?'

He looked up in thought. 'Might work. But that would be murder and they'd lock you up.'

'You stay here all day?'

'Just the afternoons.'

'Um, yeah, you're always in swimming. You like swimming'?'

'A little.'

His eyes stayed on the climbing electricity he turned on time after time. It seemed he didn't really want to talk to me. But I wanted to know how he was avoiding problems staying away every afternoon. Perhaps he'd be sympathetic to my plight.

'Your name's Louis, right?' He glanced my way but said nothing. 'I'm Malcolm and I really need to find a way so I don't have to go in the afternoons too. I don't want to go at all but my father makes me. I've got a friend he doesn't want me to see and I always have to come to the Y or work around the house.'

It didn't seem to be going well. Louis hadn't shown any interest and, as I said it, I realized the friend could be someone genuinely bad for me. But I wasn't about to give up.

'Do you think....'

Louis turned to me and interrupted, 'Does your father try to make you play sports?'

'No, just work and go to camp and Cub Scouts and everything I don't wanna do.'

'Well, then at least you're lucky about that. Mine's always trying to force me to be an athlete.' Louis pursed his lips. 'Want to see the volcano exhibit' It's in the next room and really exciting. I was there all yesterday afternoon.'

'All you do is come here every afternoon?'

'Sure, this place is great. There's all kinds of neat stuff. Come on, I'll show you.'

The library wasn't what I had planned for the afternoon but followed in hope of getting the information I needed. Then, it occurred to me his parents may have given permission but, before I could ask, he had me in front of a series of displays about volcanoes.

The volcano exhibit was interesting. It had a number of cutaway displays of volcanoes in various stages of creation and eruption. There was even a short movie one could see by pushing a button on a wood case with a TV like screen built into the front.

Louis had learned well and explained the entire life cycle of a volcano. I still wanted to know how he was escaping class. It was hard to believe a counselor would hand out permission not to attend half the program without parental consent. We were seated at a long, shiny dark wooden table with a book on volcanoes opened between us.

'Do you like to read?' he asked.

'Yes. I read all the time.'

'Like what?'

'Lots of stuff, Jack London, Tarzan, Jules Verne, Treasure Island. Lots. What do you like to read?'

'Mostly things about science but some history too like the Cretans and Greeks. Did you know that the Cretans had flushing toilets over three thousand years ago?'

I shook my head then rested my chin on top of my hands. 'C'mon, Louis. Really. How come that counselor lets you go so easy' Your parents know?'

'Oh, no. And I'll bet yours don't either.'

I chuckled. 'My father would beat my ass if he did. He'd be sure I was with Freddy.'

'So, who's Freddy' Your friend you're not supposed to be with?'

He had paid some attention. 'Uh huh.'

'Why doesn't he want you with him?'

I sat up slowly and looked at Louis hands, which were folded in his lap. 'He's poor.'

'So he sends you to the YMCA' There's poor kids in our group that are sent by sponsors. My school pays for one.'

'Where do you go?'

He mentioned a parochial school. I told him where I went.

'Your father's rich then. How come he sends you to the Y' I'll bet you're the richest kid here.'

'I told you. So I won't play with Freddy.'

'That doesn't make any sense. If he doesn't like poor kids and he...'

'He's a negro,' I interjected on the verge of anger.

'Ah,' replied Louis, 'so your father's a racist. So's mine.'

He thought for a few moments. 'I'll ask my counselor if he can get you permission too.'

That perked me up. I thanked him and promised any favor I could give if he was able to arrange it. He thought about that then looked at me.

'What if you had to do a favor for the counselor?'

'Okay, like what?'

He was silent again though not taking his eyes off mine as he thought. 'I better ask him first.'

We spent the rest of the afternoon together. He told me of an unhappy father-son relationship though without the violence of mine. His father had been a baseball lover all his life who still played in a softball league in a park south of the city, often taking Louis along on Saturdays. Louis had been the top student in his school since first grade. He was impressed that we were both in the same grade even though I was a year younger. His father was unimpressed by academic excellence. He considered athletic prowess far more important, far more male. As he'd grown older, Louis received increasing criticism, even verbal abuse for his lack of interest in sports. There were even particularly hurting remarks about Louis being a fag. Fortunately, Louis' mother felt quite differently and offered a haven away from his father's abuse.

Louis showed me how to get a library card so I could borrow books. I needed my birth certificate, which I promised to bring the next day. A few minutes after the rest of our group walked out the side door of the Y a block away, we walked out the front door of the library and headed toward our separate transportation home.

I had missed being with Freddy but had scored a possible way to see him even more often without having to worry about repercussions.

I sought out Louis immediately the next day but he told me the counselor wouldn't be able to say anything until after swimming right before lunch.

We had two counselors and two instructors. I didn't notice any of them paying me any particular attention. Perhaps it wasn't one attached to our group. There were three other age groups participating around us, all using the same Y facilities at different hours.

Halfway through the swimming hour, as I was sitting on the side of the pool watching the two best looking bodies in the group swim on their backs, their cocks flopping back and forth as they went, Louis sat beside me.

'You ask him yet?' I asked.

'Not yet, after.' He rocked back and forth, glancing occasionally at me. 'You like swimming like this, naked?'

I sensed something. I hoped it was sexual. 'It's okay.'

'You ever touch your thing when you're in the water?'

Even a nine year old knows a lead when he hears one. 'Sometimes, but not in front of everybody.'

'You jerk off?'

'Uh huh. You?'

'Some.'

He seemed unsure of what to say next. I helped him along. 'You ever do it with other kids?'

He dropped his head like he was going to laugh. 'Not exactly. Wait here a minute. I gotta go to the bathroom.'

He jumped up and disappeared into the dressing room. My curiosity was in high gear. After a few moments, I was about to follow him, convinced he'd excited himself and was jerking off in a toilet stall. He walked out the door I was headed for and motioned for me to follow. We went through the dressing room to a storage room near the main locker room entrance. It was connected to the room outside the locker room with the window where a man gave out towels.

Louis was very serious though a smile lay beneath his attempted stern appearance.

'Malcolm, you've got to promise never to say anything ever to anyone.'

'Cross my heart.'.

'If you let someone do something with you, they can fix it so you can leave anytime you want, well, after swimming.'

'Like what?'

He again swore me to secrecy. 'You let him do some sexy stuff. That's all. I do it a couple times a week, sometimes more. It feels good. You'll like it.'

It sounded okay but there was the ugly possibility of a too large cock up my ass. 'What sexy stuff?'

'Well, he puts his mouth on your penis and goes up and down until you get a really neat feeling.'

I knew exactly what he meant but felt the need to play innocent. 'What feeling?'

'The really good one you get when you jerk off. You want to?'

'That all?'

'Well, sometimes, he puts his between your legs and goes in and out until his stuff comes out.'

'In your ass?'

'No, silly, between your legs.' He ran his hand in and out between his legs just below his crotch. Douglas had done it there with me a few times. It felt good.

'And I get permission to go after swimming any day I want?'

'Uh huh.'

'Okay,' I grinned.

'Wait here.'

I grabbed his arm. 'In here' What if somebody comes in?'

'Don't worry. It's always locked. Only Arthur has the key and he just loans it to Lenny for, you know.' Arthur was the effeminate, always smiling towel man

Louis cracked open the door then dashed out. Seconds later he was back with Mr. Baldwin, or Lenny, as Louis called him. He was our main counselor. As he'd never shown much interest in me, I hadn't hung much around him.

Mr. Baldwin was fresh out of the pool, dripping wet and naked. 'Hi, Malcolm. We better hurry. Only about twenty minutes left.'

Louis pulled me back on top of some laundry bags full of towels. Mr. Baldwin, whose cock was growing rapidly, knelt in front of me and felt my soft penis. Louis was fondling his own. Mr. Baldwin pushed me back into a prone position and dropped his mouth over my crotch. It was warm and wet and quickly brought me erect. With his mouth full over me, he ran his tongue from my balls up to the tip of my cock, moving his head up and down like a dog licking himself. I glanced at Louis who had his hard dick between his fingers.

Mr. Baldwin pushed his hands under my hefty ass cheeks and massaged them with his fingers. Louis' cock was a beauty. I reached over to touch it. Louis seemed briefly surprised but smiled and slid his fingers to the base to let me feel. It was thicker than Freddy's and almost as long. No one there was about to say anything to anyone else so I leaned to Louis and asked in his ear, 'Wanna fuck me?'

His eyes narrowed. The smile never left his face. 'Really?'

I nodded.

Louis slid off the bags and whispered in Mr. Baldwin's ear. He stopped mid suck to listen. His mouth still on me, he looked up at me and asked with his eyes. I nodded again. Mr. Baldwin let go and sat back on his heels with his arms spread.

I rolled over and told Louis to put saliva on his dick first. Mr. Baldwin did it for him.

Louis lay on top of me and unsuccessfully sought my hole with his damp dick. I reached back and guided him home. It was like he'd done it before though he swore later it was his first time. He slipped his hands under my shoulders and pushed inside, right straight to my prostate. I took a deep breath. Louis began fucking. Mr. Baldwin tried to see between us then went behind and opened our legs. Louis pushed harder each time, sending the familiar sparks through my middle. Soon, he was holding on tighter, then, he stopped, his cock throbbing wonderfully inside my rectum. I had taken less than a minute, not much fun for Mr. Baldwin, or me.

'Leave it in and roll over,' said the counselor.

We moved slowly but he popped out.

'Put it back in,' he told Louis.

'I can't. It's too ticklish. You know.'

The counselor went back down on me. Already excited, I came almost as fast as Louis.

'Malcolm, I'm going to put mine between your legs, not inside like Louis, okay?'

I shrugged my shoulders. Mr. Baldwin's cock was a big one, the biggest I'd ever seen, and dripping what I assumed to be sperm out the end. He spread saliva over his erection and between my legs. He turned me onto my belly, spread my legs, lay on top of me, poked his cock down between my cheeks right out the front, and pulled my legs back together. It felt large in there but, other than his chest hair on my back and abundant pubic hair on my buns, it was quite pleasant feeling it slide in and out. I was ready to go again long before he came.

Louis was ready with a towel which he shoved under my crotch when Mr. Baldwin lifted us off the towel bags. He grunted repeatedly as he shot his load into the towel. I felt some get on my balls when he withdrew. A long drop hung off one testicle when I stood. Louis laughed. Mr. Baldwin folded over the towel and wiped me off.

'Louis tells me you want to go see a friend this afternoon. That right?'

'I wanna see him every afternoon.'

'Go ahead. No problem.'

We ran off to the showers while Mr. Baldwin locked up.

'I gotta do this every day?'

'No, just two or three times a week. You like it when I stuck mine inside you?'

I grinned sheepishly.

'So, can we do it again tomorrow?'

'If you want.' I was concerned Freddy would know someone had been in there before him.

I asked, 'This means I can go now?'

It did and I did, completely forgetting the birth certificate I was carrying to get my library card.

Freddy didn't believe my tale of good fortune.

'Mens don't suck li'l dicks like yo's. They likes 'em big, bigga'n Douglas'.'

'Yes he does. And he put his between my legs like Douglas did. I just gotta do it a couple times a week and I can leave every day like today.'

Freddy stared at his toes. We were sitting against the front of his house. Freddy went barefoot when it was warm and he didn't have to go to school.

'An' he sucks both ya'll.'

He knew me much too well not to tell him everything. 'I let Louis, you know.'

'Damn, Maacum, e'ry time you sees a dick, you wants it up yo' ass. You better not let that man do it o' you gonna be big back theah like a full growed woman.'

'No, that would hurt. Louis says he only does it between our legs. Anyway, you don't know how big a woman gets.'

'I know how big Brenda is.'

Brenda was the fourteen year old who Douglas, now fifteen, was fucking.

'They let you watch?'

'No, but she showed it to me a couple times. Let me stick mah finga in.'

The only vaginas I'd ever seen belonged to babies in Freddy's settlement as their diapers were being changed. 'You think she'll let me look?'

'What you wanna look at a woman fo?'' He laughed.

'I've never seen one and what if I'm gonna get married one day and make babies.'

'You see' I tole you. You already stahtin' ta change. Lemme talk ta Douglas.'

Freddy never stopped telling me that one day I might forget about dicks and want a 'pussy'. It made good sense to me.

I think Freddy tried to avoid fucking me that day but by late afternoon he was no longer beating around the bush. 'Wanna go down to the stream?'

I sure did.

The next day, Louis had the three of us back in the storage room. I got the distinct impression he was more anxious than Mr. Baldwin. He fucked slower, prolonging his stay up my rear end. The counselor sucked me to climax and got his own between my legs.

Before heading to Freddy, I got my temporary library card and took out two books.

Freddy told me Douglas was working all that week and couldn't bring Brenda around during the week until mid July when he and his uncle finished the job they were on. Even if I could get away on a weekend, there were too many others around to do what we wanted.

'He gonna get Brenda to let you fuck her. I cain't even do that. You lucky if she do.'

The idea was intriguing but a bit discomforting too. Brenda was used to Douglas' big cock. She might not even feel my little thing. And she figured to have a lot of hair around her vagina like Douglas had on his cock. I wasn't turned off by a little pubic hair, but a lot, like Mr. Baldwin had, was prickly and uncomfortable. I hadn't sucked Douglas since the previous fall and had no desire to do so any more though, as a friend, I wouldn't turn him down.

I showed Freddy my library card and the two books I'd taken out. One, Treasure Island, was for him. We sat by the stream and read. Freddy had a terrible time with his book so I began reading it to him. He lay back and listened, occasionally asking questions like, 'What's a inn?' Each time, I told him and continued on. For many weeks, every time we were together, I read to Freddy. When I finished Treasure Island, I read him 'Call of the Wild.' I'd read both before, but it made me feel good reading to my closest friend.

Louis wanted to fuck me every day. I didn't mind getting fucked twice a day. I actually enjoyed both the physical side and the attention it was bringing me. Arthur, the towel man who provided the key for the storage room, wanted to watch us once. I was uncomfortable but Louis liked the man and readily agreed.

'You are really lucky, Malcolm' Arthur said afterward. I didn't get fucked until I was fifteen.' He told us about how another fifteen year old had thought he was seducing him while Arthur was the one who really wanted it. 'I could've died right then because I was already in heaven.'

Louis spent more time with me than his other friends. We were more compatible since he generally hated sports and enjoyed reading. Friday, I went to the library with him, not leaving until two. There was a large exhibit of Jules Verne literature. Verne was an author Louis and I both liked and read.

Louis lived with his parents and three younger sisters nearly diagonally opposite me across the city. The streetcar I took to the Y continued on and passed within three blocks of his house. It was unnecessary to change streetcars for either of us to get to the home of the other. He suggested I save up my candy nickels and come visit his house one afternoon. I was still stealing occasionally from my parents so streetcar fare was no impediment. Giving up an afternoon with Freddy was a problem. I had a better idea but had to lay the groundwork at home.

I'd already told my mother of my new friend. As with Philip, she was happy I had one she had to assume was white as there were no Negroes other than janitors at the Y.

'I need to speak with his mother before you go,' was my mother's response to a request to visit Louis on a Sunday.

Louis thought racism was ignorant. It was something he picked up from his better educated mother. There wouldn't be any problem taking him to Freddy's settlement.

Monday in Arts and Crafts, I told him I didn't want to give up my afternoons with Freddy but could go to his house on a Sunday. Louis thought it was great idea.

'I can tell my father I have a guest who doesn't like baseball and we can do something else.'

His father had been taking him to baseball games at the stadium. 'They are so boring. Mostly they just stand around. I hate it.'

His mother was home the majority of the time minding his three little sisters. The youngest was only eight months old. Louis gave me his telephone number. I gave it to my mother when I got home from Freddy's at a little after five thirty. She said she was too busy to call at the time but would do so in the morning. I was sure she didn't want me to hear what was discussed.

The following night, mother told me she had spoken to Louis' mother and my father had given permission for me to go Sunday. I was sure mother would be checking back with Louis' mother to see if I'd actually been there.

'Whatta you do Sundays?' I asked Louis the next morning.

'Hmm. Nothing usually. We can go to the park or maybe a movie.'

We settled on a movie. I promised to tear off the movie schedule from our evening paper.

Sunday, we saw double feature Westerns at a small theater a ten minute streetcar ride from Louis's row house. Before that, we had to watch the girls while his mother went to the store. They were the baby, a three year old and a nosey seven year old. Louis wanted some quick sex in his bedroom but, Lillian, the seven year old kept knocking at his door. Twice we had our pants down only to have to pull them back up quickly. I considered sucking him but that probably would have taken even more time, making it less likely tosucceed.

Monday morning, he told me my mother had called the previous evening and confirmed my presence with his mother. The following Sunday, I was instructed, in case we went off somewhere part of the day, to stop back at Louis' house before coming home. I was being controlled. It made me worry about all those afternoons I wasn't at the Y. Mr. Baldwin assured me he'd be given any calls from my parents as he was the one who kept attendance records.

Though we tried a number of times, sex at Louis' house was impossible. Louis was frustrated with the hurried and shared sex at the Y. I asked for and received permission to bring Louis to my house. It wasn't just to facilitate a romp in my bed. We could do what Philip and I had done before and fake a trip to a movie and actually spend the afternoon at Freddy's.

When I explained my plan, Louis thought it was fine but had a question he took me to the boys' room to ask. 'Do you and Freddy do what we do?'

'Mm hmm, but we can do it before, at my house.'

Louis seemed confused. 'Are you going to do it with Freddy when we go?'

'We don't have to, no.'

'Do you do it every day with him, like with me?'

'Not every day. Sometimes we don't.'

'Gees, that means you do it two times almost every day. I thought I was horny. You must think about sex all the time.'

'Not all the time. In school, when we're doing other stuff, lots of times I don't think about it, most.'

I did think about it a lot. And I'd happily have had sex a lot more than I did. I hadn't thought about it before but his remarks made me wonder how many orgasms I could have in a day. Five, ten, more' Freddy liked to do it twice and occasionally three times. I decided that Saturday, I'd see how many times I could jerk off.

I masturbated before getting out of bed. My dick was already hard so it was easy. Then, after washing up and taking a crap, I did it again. It took a little longer but bowel movements always gave me an erection and that helped. I came back to my bedroom after breakfast, lowered my pants to my knees, flopped on my bed and wanked. Starting soft made it take longer but I still got off in a few minutes.

The lawn awaited me. I got the keys to the barn from my father and hauled out the mower. It took a while to crank up. My jerk off right arm was tired. I cut the front except for the steep hill that my father had agreed to do when it became obvious I hadn't the strength. While he did that, I ran back to my room, dropped my pants and went at it again. My arm was really tired. I went into my parent's bathroom and took a finger full of Vaseline from the jar my mother kept in the medicine cabinet. That did the trick but required cleaning up with soap and water, which meant taking off shoes and pants. I knew my father had long finished his part of the job and would be wondering where I was.

All I got was a dirty look.

Midmorning, I told my father I had to take a crap and, after yanking off shoes and pants, went immediately for the Vaseline jar. My right arm was just too worn out so I tried my left for the first time. It flat out didn't work. Knowing my father would be waiting impatiently for the sound of the mower's motor, I gave up, cleaned up and rushed back outside.

My arm rather than my penis limited the number of orgasms I could have in a day. I'd gotten off four times and was sure many more were in me but I just didn't have enough stamina in my right arm or ability in my left arm to prove my capacity.

Sunday morning after Mass and breakfast, I met Louis at the streetcar turnaround and brought him back to the house. My parent's were downstairs in the living room reading the Sunday paper.

'You're sure your mother and father aren't going to come up here?'

'They almost never do. Just the maid and she's not here today.'

We stripped down to bare flesh. Louis was hard when his briefs came off. I suggested we do it from the front. He was unsure until he saw my hole staring up at him when I pulled my legs up to my chest.

'Let me get you wet first,' I said.

He expected me to wet my hand and rub saliva on him. I had to crawl across the bed to take his cock into my mouth. We'd never done this before but he'd had it done to him many times by Mr. Baldwin. His cock was definitely thicker than Freddy's. If felt great between my tongue and cheeks.

After a few delightful moments, I let him go and asked, 'Who does it better, Mr. Baldwin or me?'

'I don't know. You're pretty good but let's do the other thing.'

I already knew he liked my ass better than Mr. Baldwin's mouth so his comment didn't bother me. I lay on my back and clutched my knees to my sides. Louis stretched over me, his arms to either side, and aimed his cock by sight. He poked the head in on the second try then dropped on top of me, penetrating right to my prostate. I wrapped my arms around his back and whispered into his ear. 'Go slow so it takes longer.'

The embrace made him uncomfortable. He pushed back up on his arms and lowered his head in front of mine to watch the action. He did fuck slowly, pushing full inside then pulling his body forward and back making his cock head slide back and forth across my sweet spot. I wondered if he knew what he was doing for me.

'Keep doing it like that,' I told him.

He continued, taking about two to three seconds with each thrust and body movement. His crotch massaging my perineum was almost as good as being masturbated, but not quite. I gently worked on my peter while watching around the side of his head at his cock dipping in and out of me. My left hand tugged softly on his right bun. He began slow side to side movements along with the rest. Louis' harder breathing told me he was getting close. I stroked my cock more deliberately. Half a minute later, I made a high pitched grunt I couldn't suppress and repeatedly gripped his penis with my rectum. It took him quickly over the top.

When his pulsing stopped, he sat back. I followed his cock with my ass as far as possible but it slipped out.

'You got your feeling too, huh?' He was examining his cock as though looking for evidence of where it had been. Everybody on their first screw seemed to expect poop on their peter.

'Wanna take a bath?' I asked.

'Sure.'

Sitting at opposite ends of the tub in the hot water, he asked,' What's the biggest dick you've ever had in you?'

'About like this.' I held my hands four inches apart. The boy from the YMCA camp the previous year was about that size when he screwed me.

'I know a kid lives near me who goes out with men for money and they stick theirs in him. He says they don't but the other kids that go out too say he's lying. He gets a dollar and the men only pay a dollar if they can fuck you.'

'Men like Mr. Baldwin?'

'Yeah. The others only get a quarter, and sometimes they get something to eat.'

'You ever do that?'

'Before. That's how I met Mr. Baldwin. He got me a scholarship for the Y when my father said he couldn't pay, but he could have.'

'Mr. Baldwin knows your father?'

'Yeah. He told him he met me at the park in a YMCA thing. But he really picked me up on the street. It's really funny. My father hates fags and says he can spot them easy and he thinks Lenny is a great guy and that I should be like him. He's such an asshole.'

I was very confused but excited by my mental pictures of boys having sex with men. If I let the men suck me, could I do things with the boys'

'How come he picked you up?'

'I was with a friend who hustles up on the avenue. He wanted me to come too so I did. Mr. Baldwin took us to his house and sucked us for a quarter each. Then I went out with him a few more times.'

'How many kids do that?'

'Lots. I know a bunch.'

'What do the boys have to do?'

'Just lay there. What, you wanna try it?'

'I dunno.' Did I dare tell Louis my real desire for the boys'

'The best time is Saturday and Sunday but they're around from four on during the week. Some kids get picked up daytime too.'

It sounded like there were as many men as boys. 'The only day I can do it is Sunday. Wanna do it next Sunday?' I asked.

'Me' I don't know. My father knows about that. If he sees me hanging around any of the hustling places, I'll be in deep shit. The asshole already calls me a fag for not playing baseball.'

Talking about it had me hard as a cucumber. Much as I wanted to learn more, 'Wanna do it again, here?'

'I was right. All you think about is sex. Wait a minute.'

He fiddled with his cock under the water then poked it up. 'Ready,' he said with a smile.

I turned around, draped my head and shoulders over the end of the tub and raised my ass into position. 'Use soap, but not too much.'

I slowly masturbated myself while he banged away into my rear end.

We dressed and left for the streetcar line. From the newspaper, I knew what was playing at the movie theater. We got off the streetcar at the first stop and walked back through the poor white section, across the tracks, past the church and into the woods. Over all, it took half an hour to get to Freddy's. Knowing I was coming, he'd gotten permission to leave church early and taken a bus to within a mile and a half of the settlement. He'd just finished changing out of his Sunday clothes. As usual, he was barefoot.

'So you is Louis. You the second white boy Maacum done brought in heah.' Freddy held out his hand. Louis took it with a smile. 'You know how to play marbles?'

'It's okay, Freddy. He can come with us to the stream.'

Freddy gave me a sideway look. He knew I was having sex with Louis but it was supposedly just to get loose in the afternoons. I didn't mention telling him about our streamside sessions.

Freddy frowned. 'All this boy thinks 'bout is sex.'

Louis grinned at me and said, 'I told him the same thing.'

We went to our place along the stream but climbed trees and looked under rocks for crawfish. It was after three before Freddy's needs overtook his pride.

It was too hot to do it under a blanket. 'So who gonna do it first?' asked Freddy slipping out of his overalls.

'You go ahead,' said Louis who had already been inside me twice that day.

Freddy let me lubricate his stiff cock with saliva at the source then climbed on top of me and pushed right in. We'd done it so much, it seemed his cock knew right where to go.

Freddy, his mouth right beside my ear, asked in a whisper, 'How many times he fuck you today?'

He knew! And I knew he would. I almost said one but Freddy could see right into my mind. 'Twice.'

He chuckled. 'You the sexiest lovin' boy in da world, Maacum. I bet if two mo' boys come down dat path an' seen us, you'd tell 'em ta take off'n they's pants too.'

I put my arm back around his head and hugged him to me. He was right but none of them would make me feel better than he. I turned my face to his. 'But I love you.'

I nearly shivered. It was the second time I'd said aloud what I felt inside. I wondered what Freddy thought about how I felt. Did he understand the depth of my love for him' I knew he liked me a lot but did he love me too'

'You crazy, Maacum but I love you too.'

If Louis hadn't been there, I'd have kissed Freddy full on the mouth even though I knew his love was a different breed than mine.

I did kiss him on the cheek just before he got off me to let Louis on.

They both fucked me twice. I only got off once, masturbating myself on my hands and knees during Louis second go.

Monday, lying naked after sex on a moss bed we'd created, I told Freddy more of how I felt for him.

'I know you say you're not angry when I have sex with other boys but I know you don't like it. It's just that it's really hard to say no when somebody wants to.' I turned on my side facing him. 'But I promise I'll just do it with Louis so I can come see you 'cause that's all I want, to be with you.'

'I don't git mad, Maacum. I know it's jes the way you is.'

I lay my head on his chest and embraced him. 'I love you, Freddy, I really do.'

'I know.'

We laid there for a while. I listened to his heart beating, occasionally kissing his belly.

Then, he said, 'You know, Maacum, one day I gonna be big like Douglas and gonna be chasin' afta women like he do.' He paused. 'We still gonna be friends, really good friends but won't be a lot a sex like now.'

I'd thought about that but my hope had always been that I was going to like girls then too. 'Maybe I'll like girls too.'

After some silence, Freddy said, 'We gotta do that thing we talked 'bout, wi' Brenda. Freddy's not workin' so he can git her to do it. And maybe you'll like it.'

They came on Thursday afternoon. Freddy told me to meet him at our spot by the stream instead of coming to his house. That way, nobody would see Douglas and Brenda go with us. Freddy and I had finished eating my lunch and some salad he'd brought from his house.

There were three of them, not two. The third person was a young girl about my size. Though her face was familiar, she didn't live in the settlement. I knew everyone there by their first name. The young girl, with long hair and a full prepubescent body, walked slightly behind Brenda who walked right up to me and gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the lips, as she always did.

'I brung somebody fo' you, Maacum. Whatta ya think?'

She turned me toward the girl who was smiling timidly. Was I supposed to have sex with her or just look, maybe touch'

Brenda told Freddy and Douglas they'd have to leave. Neither was happy about it.

'Look, you two, I promised Mary heah wa'nt gonna be no niggas watchin' so you gotta go. This heah's fo' Maacum, not ya'll. So, git!'

Douglas took Freddy's arm and they headed up the path.

'An' don' let me catch you two tryin' to sneak back o you ain't gittin' no pussy fo' a month, Douglas Taylor.'

Douglas shook his head and kept going.

Brenda sat the three of us down on the moss bed. 'I tole Mary what a nice boy you is, Maacum and how you ain't nevah seen no woman's privates an' don' know nothin' 'bout that kinda lovin'.

Mary was looking at my hands, I guessed to avoid looking at me.

'First thing we gonna do is all a us gonna git nekked.'

She reached behind her neck and undid a button, then reached behind and opened the rest of the buttons down the back of her dress. I took off my shoes as did Mary. Brenda stood and pushed her dress to the ground. She was wearing pink panties plus a bra over her healthy breasts.

'Maacum, undo my bra, honey.' She spoke like the rest of the women in the settlement even though she was just fourteen. It took a while for me to figure out how to open the clip that held her bra in place. By the time I got back in front of her to see, Brenda was pushing off her panties. She stood back up, showing me things I'd never seen before in my life. Her breasts were heavy looking orbs with broad dark circles and nipples. She took my hand and pressed it to one. It was soft and smooth, like a boy's ass. My penis rose to the occasion.

Brenda looked over my shoulder. 'Come on, Mary, git it off. You too, Maacum.'

I took off my shirt and undershirt. Strangely, I was shy about these two girls seeing my erection.

Mary only had a loose dress and panties. Her body was a beautiful silky brown, the color of the mud on a baseball diamond. She held her panties, probably waiting for me to lower my pants. She lowered hers with mine. Her vagina was a pair of thin lips below a slightly protruding tummy. We stared at each other's crotch until Brenda interrupted.

She sat us down in front of each other.

Brenda said, 'Go ahead an' touch it, Maacum. She don' mind. You sho' ain' the first one.'

Mary gave Brenda a mock dirty look, grinned and opened her legs. I put my right index finger in the crease between her thigh and vagina. I could feel my ears were a bright red. Mary lifted her knees, spreading the opening, exposing the wetness inside.

'Go on, Maacum,' insisted Brenda, 'ain't gonna bite ya.'

I looked at Mary's face. She was smiling, the timidity gone.

I shifted a finger into the opening and immediately felt the heat radiating from inside. When I touched it I recognized the feel of the inside of my own rectum. It was wet, warm, fleshy. I pushed in, meeting no resistance, right up to my knuckle.

'Ya see. Now, you go ahead and put yo' little dick in theah and see how you likes it.'

Brenda got out of the way and Mary lay back, her legs still spread.

It felt very strange. First, here was a girl I didn't know, who hadn't said a word the entire time we'd been together, happily taking orders from a naked fourteen year old, her legs spread, her vagina open, waiting for me to fuck her. Then there was me, a probable homosexual who loved getting fucked in the ass by other boys though with a raging erection brought on by these two naked females, seeing female organs up close for the first time in my life. If I did this, I might never want another boy again. That's what happened with Douglas. After fucking Brenda the first time, he let me suck him just one more time and that had been the end of it. Freddy had said that maybe all I needed to change was just what I was poised to do.

But did I want to'

Sex was a major part of my relationship with Freddy. Would it survive without sex? That was easy. I loved him, not his cock. I loved Freddy. Sex was a wonderful but unnecessary part of our relationship. Freddy had said so himself. I lowered myself on top of Mary's warm body.

Mary took my buns into her hands and pulled me up. The head of my dick felt the warmth of her vaginal lips. I pushed forward but wasn't in the right place for entry. Mary took care of that with her hand. I realized I hadn't lubricated myself. It wasn't necessary. Mary opened wider and guided me inside her. The wet warmth engulfed my penis. With Mary again pulling on my ass, I slid upward on her body until I was in as far as I could go. My only real fucking experience had been inside Jimmy two years earlier at the YMCA camp. I began pumping. The feeling wasn't as intense as I remembered it. Mary caressed my back and buns. I thrust harder, faster. Mary urged me on with her hands.

I heard Brenda say, 'You doin' good, Maacum.'

Mary seemed to lift her hips off the moss. Every time I thrust, a bit of the warmth hit my little balls like they were half going inside her too. My cock was bloated but not yet to the point of orgasm. It would have been nice to have a dick inside my rear punching my sweet spot.

Mary became more excited, running her hands up and down my back, pushing up at me when I pushed inside her. I heard her heavy breathing. It excited me, motivated me to fuck with more force. Careful not to pull completely out, I slammed into her hard as I could. I was so close, right on the edge. Mary yanked my ass cheeks forward with each thrust, her fingers slipping deeper into the crack. I felt one at my rectum. Two seconds later, I felt the first throb rush up my perineum and into my cock. I gasped with each successive throb, pressed inside as far as I could go.

Brenda kissed my cheek. 'Now, you a man.'

I looked into Mary's face. She grinned, kissed me on the lips and spoke her first words of the afternoon. 'I wish you was bigga 'cause you does it a lot longer than them others.'

I was still trying to catch my breath. Mary's chest was wet with my sweat. My shoulders were dripping. How long had I been fucking her' I was sure it was longer than Freddy or anyone else had ever fucked me. I rolled over beside her and let my body relax. My dick stayed hard. The tip was already losing its sensitivity.

Mary measured my cock with her finger. 'How old is you?'

'Nine and a half.'

'You gon' be like this fo' a while yet.'

'How old are you?' I asked her.

'Gone be eleven first week a August, next week. Gone be at least three mo' yeahs, mebbe fo' 'fo' you gits any bigger. That's too bad 'cause you do it real good.'

That made me feel proud. The problem was, if she hadn't touched my ass hole I might still be trying to reach orgasm. Worse, I'd been thinking of Freddy inside me while I fucked. So how did I feel, other than exhausted'

Not much different than before.

Mary told Freddy and the others she liked me, wanted to see me again.

'So, you liked it?' Freddy asked once we were alone on the trail out to the streetcar line.

'Sure, I liked it.'

'You wanna do it agin?'

'Of course.'

Freddy stopped me. 'Maacum, what you like best, doin' it with her or Louis?'

I sensed he substituted Louis at the last moment, probably for himself. Still, I tried to be honest. 'I don't know. Let me say tomorrow.'

Freddy threw his arm over my shoulder. 'Long's you tell me the truth.'

I put my arm over his shoulder and we continued down the path. No matter what, I was sure I loved him.

I went to bed early to struggle with my feelings. I decided that sex with Freddy couldn't be a factor in how I answered Freddy's question. My love for him transcended our physical relationship. I tried to think of what boy sex apart from Freddy I had most enjoyed. Carter had been the first and formed a vivid memory. Douglas wasn't much to remember even though we did it a lot of times. Sucking didn't excite me nearly as much as being fucked. Jimmy during my first year at YMCA camp was special. He was the first and only boy I'd ever fucked. Mark and Benny the second year of camp felt good inside me but could hardly be called friends. Philip could have been nearly as close a friend as Freddy.

Sex with him was fantastic except he always stopped too soon. Louis felt good but he was only interested in getting himself off. He refused even to masturbate me.

There was no question, the best sex I'd had outside of Freddy was Jimmy. So, I would compare sex with Jimmy with sex with Mary.

They both enjoyed doing it with me. But the big question to be answered was how much did I enjoy doing it with them. If they were both in front of me right then, who would

I want to have in bed with me' That was easy: Jimmy. But we had become close friends over time. I'd just met Mary, and she was nearly two years older than me.

The rest of my thoughts that night drowned in the sleep that overtook me.

I continued my personal investigation on the streetcar. I had gotten hard the moment I saw Brenda nude and certainly didn't lose it while I was fucking Mary. But, then, I stayed hard and eventually got off in the counselor's mouth though I didn't really enjoy it that much. That was an interesting point. Nothing about the counselor's body excited me. I had no desire to touch his cock or even, after seeing it the first time, look at it. But I did like looking at the better built boys in the Y pool and had frequented the Y camp showers to

watch those boys too. I'd even tried to seduce two boys who didn't want anything to do with sex.

We were entering downtown when a feeling of doom seeped in my mind. It wasn't anything identifiable, even very conscious. It was just there, like an imagined monster in the hall outside your bedroom. By the time I was walking the last block to the Y, frustration had overtaken me, putting me into a very bad mood. Every way I wanted to examine the question at hand presented problems. After tossing my lunchbox into my locker, I sat on the bench, unable even to answer Louis' cheery greeting. Halfway through Arts and Crafts, I told the instructor and Mr. Baldwin that I felt sick and was going home. He offered me a ride, which I refused.

I was with Freddy in an hour. The feeling of doom now filled me like my blood had turned to lead. Freddy saw my distress and took me inside his house.

'What's wrong, Maacum?'

'I dunno. Let's go lie down?'

'You sick?'

'I dunno.'

I lay on his bed and pulled him down beside me, holding on to him like a drowning person would a floating log. He put an arm around me.

'What happened, Maacum' Yo' father find out sumthin?''

I shook my head.

He tried to sit up but I wouldn't let him.

'Maacum, what's wrong?'

'I dunno. I just feel real bad.'

Freddy looked me over then relaxed. I buried my face in his chest. Before sleep blanked my mind, I started to feel better.

I awakened an hour or so later when Freddy got up to answer the door. It was everyone's gramma wanting to borrow some salt. Freddy gave her some and came back to me.

'You wanna eat sumthin?''

We emptied my lunchbox and the pot of soup Freddy's mother had left him. When their mother was working, his sisters stayed with an aunt two houses away. There were no questions while we ate. After we cleaned up the pot and table, Freddy suggested we walk down to our place by the stream.

The day was a bit cooler than the previous two weeks with temperatures nearing one hundred almost daily. Freddy talked about that most of the way. When we arrived, he suggested we repair the rickety railing in our roofless tree house. We yanked down a few flexible vines and split them. Freddy found a relatively straight limb and broke it off a young tree. We climbed up and replaced what was an original piece we'd put there years before. Once finished, we sat side by side on the thick branch that supported our little forest hideout.

Freddy put his arm over my shoulder and said, 'Don' matter none to me if you likes boys o girls. You always gonna be my bes' friend.'

That was exactly what I needed to hear. I flipped one leg across his and leaned back against the tree. He pulled my leg up on his lap. I stared at my friend. He straightened out my pants and looked at me, a nearly invisible smile on his lips. Freddy understood me better than anyone else in the world. I wanted to say it but couldn't find a way of doing so that didn't, to me, sound stupid.

Again, he spoke. 'I knows you good, don' I, Maacum?'

I nodded.

'Better 'n yo' mama.' The smile made itself known.

I smiled back and put my other leg on his lap.

We stayed in the tree until it was time for me to go home. I unloaded all my thoughts and personal debates from the night before and the morning streetcar ride. I left out nothing. He listened to every word.

'You only done it oncet, Maacum, so how you gonna know. You can do it mo' if you wants. Mary says you were real good an' she won't even let me oncet.'

'But I like it best with you.'

We decided I'd do it two more times then see if that was what I wanted. Freddy still held out the possibility that I might change when I got big like Douglas.

I went home sure I was the luckiest boy in the world to have a friend like Freddy.

Over the next three weeks, I had a lot of sex with Freddy, Louis and our counselor, though none with Mary who couldn't get back to the settlement but promised Brenda, her cousin, that she would at the first opportunity. I decided not to try the hustler scene in Louis' section of the city. It meant time away from Freddy.

It was Thursday, August 17th, when Freddy and I decided to smash pennies under the wheels of a train. A boy at Freddy's church had shown him an oval shaped penny he said he left on the streetcar tracks to see what would happen. We couldn't go together to the streetcar tracks for fear of being spotted by my mother, someone who knew her, or white boys who'd attack us for being together.

The train tracks left the station and went immediately into a partially wooded area where we figured to be alone. I brought a nickel along to try too. We went behind the church, down the station then through the woods along the long curve of tracks until we could no longer see the station. I knew a train came bb before three thirty because one of my classmates traveled to and from school that way. A few times over the years, I'd seen the huge steam locomotive and its four or five passenger cars coming or going around that time.

We placed a penny and my nickel on the tracks and turned to rest in the woods until the train passed by. Five smiling white boys, about ten to thirteen or fourteen years old blocked our way. I had no idea where they'd come from. They quickly surrounded us. Two had pieces of wood in their hands. The smallest one held a pair of rocks.

My immediate reaction was to grab Freddy and run. Freddy was thinking the same thing. We ran at the smallest boys, pushing them out of the way as we went by.

'This way,' called Freddy as he headed up the tracks toward the station. A rock hit me in the back of the head, knocking me senseless long enough to fall face first into the thick gravel. Freddy snatched up a handful of the dark stones and threw them at our attackers as he ran back to me.

'Git up, Maacum! Git up!' he shouted as he yanked on my arm. The five of them fell on him, hitting and kicking, then hauling him up by his arms.

'Run, Maacum, run!' he shouted again through the blood dripping out of his nose.

I ran at the boys in the slim hope of knocking Freddy free. Two of them grabbed me, one with his arm tight around my neck. 'Son-of-bitches'. I screamed at them. 'Let us go or I'll tell the police.'

The smallest one walked up to me grinning and kneed me in the groin. I cringed in agony. The white boys laughed. One said, 'Go git him Charlie! Whew.' The little boy flexed his arm muscles.

'Look at them shoes on the nigger lover boy, Charlie. They your size?'

The little one came back and placed his ragged sneaker beside my nearly new one. 'Nyuh unh, but they're just about right for my brother.'

'Give Charlie yer shoes nigger lover an' we'll let your nigger friend go.'

'Don' do it, Maacum! They's lyin'!'

The ten year old went to knee Freddy in the balls too but Freddy jerked his leg up to block him and started to pull one arm loose. The boy holding my arm let go of me and ran to help control Freddy. I kicked back hard as I could but the big boy holding me must have sensed it. He turned to one side and tightened his strangle hold, cutting off my air. I saw Freddy go down between the tracks under the fists and feet of the four boys. The teen holding me dragged me forward to get some kicks in too. Freddy was howling. I heard a

terrible sound like a tree limb breaking followed by a terrible scream. I tried to see what had happened but the boy holding me had me faced away from the fray. Worse, I was loosing consciousness. I felt my shoes being pulled off then the gravel and wood of the ties as I was dropped on them. For a few seconds, all I could think of was breathing again. Then Freddy jumped back into my mind. I heard him crying, 'Mama, oh mama' over and over again.

I located his voice and turned to it. Freddy's prone body lay a few feet from me. His face was covered with blood, his shirt half torn off him exposing more blood on his chest. I tried to scream but nothing came out.

I crawled to him, picked his head up and cradled it in my lap. Then I saw his arm. There was something wrong with it. I was still groggy. My vision improved. His right forearm was bent like a broken twig, and bloody. After another deep breath, I saw what looked like wood coming out of his arm then realized it was his bone. I began to cry, terrified that they'd killed my friend, that he was going to die.

I pulled in two more gulps of air. I had to stop crying and get Freddy to a hospital. A Cub Scout session on handling broken bones came into my mind. What was the word they used' Immobilize' What did that mean' I looked around for something to hold his arm while I got him to someone who could help us. There was nothing. That's when I heard the train's whistle. I looked up. It wasn't in sight yet. I put my arms under Freddy's, lifted him off the tracks and carried him down the grade to the high grass.

Still crying, Freddy tried to stand. I'd never seen Freddy cry before. It frightened me, made me want to cry too.

'Mah arm, Maacum. Look at my arm. Hep me, Maacum, hep me.'

Blood was dripping out of his nose. He put his good arm over my shoulder. The other hung useless at his side. I straightened and put my right arm around him. He kept pulling me over. I couldn't walk like that. I turned the two of us around and with my arms around Freddy's chest from behind, dragged him backward up the path along side the tracks. The train went by us with a rush, its brakes squealing as it headed into the station. Certain there'd be no help in the white homes on the far side of the station, I headed toward the church. There'd be people, cars I could stop.

I have no idea how long it took me to get us back to the parking lot beside the station and out to the street. The only thing in my mind was to keep moving, get to where there were people. I stopped and leaned against a telephone pole looking around for someone to help. A white woman coming our way turned around and headed back from where she'd come. There was no one else around. There were cars going by on the street that passed around the church. At the corner, I pulled one arm loose and waved at three in a row. They ignored me. There was blood all over my arm. It frightened me.

'Freddy, Freddy!' He hadn't made a sound for a while.

'Maacum, I hurt so bad,' he whimpered and cried again. I was relieved to hear

anything from him.

I could see the rectory behind the church. The priest would have to help me. I knew I couldn't carry Freddy near that far. I'd already gone a several hundred yards and nearly half that to go. Freddy was whimpering 'Oh Maacum, look at mah arm. I hurt so bad.'

My nearly bare feet, with the socks torn from the gravel and debris I'd been walking on, wouldn't let me go any further with Freddy's weight on them.

'Freddy, you gotta walk. Please. Try to walk.'

I felt him rise up on his legs. One of his feet was bloody but I couldn't tell from what.

'I can walk,' he said then nearly fell over.

'Lean on me. We gotta get to that house past the church.'

'Okay.'

He rose up, his good left arm over my shoulder again. He walked slowly, crying again. As we crossed the street, more cars passed by but none stopped. One had to veer around us. I led us up the drive to the church entrance. Freddy stopped crying but moaned with every step. We were still twenty or thirty yards from the stairs to the rectory when one of the priests rushed to us. He took one look at Freddy, lay his broken arm across his tummy and picked him up. A woman came behind me and helped me up the stairs and inside.

'You're Malcolm Lloyd, aren't you?' asked the priest. 'What happened' Never mind. Get my car keys, Mildred.'

He carried Freddy to his car, laid him carefully in the back with his head on Mildred's lap, then came back for me. The pain in my feet made it impossible to stand much less walk. The priest lifted me in his arms, put me in the front seat with him and took us to a hospital.

The nurse wanted to take me first but I refused and was backed up by the priest. The nurse looked frustrated but took Freddy into a curtained cubicle.

The priest said, 'Malcolm, I need your phone number to call your mother.'

I lowered my head. For the first time I realized the trouble I was in with my father. There was no way to hide the fact that I hadn't been at the Y. There was no sense trying to hide that I'd been with Freddy. They'd know. Maybe, if I waited. I needed to know the time.

'What time is it?'

'Three fifteen. Malcolm, I need to call your mother. The hospital's not going to do much without her permission.'

Terror overtook me. I knew I was in for another beating, then serious restrictions for who knew how long. I tried but couldn't stop myself from crying. The crying became uncontrollable sobs. I wished I could just fall over and die. The priest sat beside me and put his arm around me. Anger poured into me, made me scream. The priest let go. I fell into his lap. I was doomed all because my father was a racist son-of-a-bitch. I felt the priest's hands caress my hair and back.

'Malcolm, what's wrong' Do you hurt' Talk to me.'

I couldn't. The sobs I couldn't control prevented a whole word from getting out. The priest picked me up and followed a nurse into the cubicle beside Freddy's. No sound came from his side of the curtain. I tried to grab the curtain to see but the nurse pushed my hand away. I was placed on an examination table. The nurse looked at the bottoms of my feet and shook her head. The priest disappeared. A young doctor came in. They took off all my clothes except my briefs. There was blood down the back of my shirt. They found a hole in my head where the rock had hit me. My face was scratched from my fall into the gravel. A check of my body turned up nothing. I was glad he didn't look at my balls. They had to be a mess.

The doctor left. After the nurse cut off what was left of my socks, she began cleaning my feet. The pain was excruciating. Another man dressed in white had to hold me down.

'Please, let me see Freddy,' I begged between bouts of crying over the pain in my feet.

'Don't worry, he's okay.'

'Please, I gotta see him. It's so quiet in there.'

'Where?'

'In there!' The man hadn't known who I'd been talking about. I pointed.

'Just take it easy.'

'Nurse, nurse, please!

'Just a little bit more. Almost finished,' was all she would say.

It wasn't at all near finished. The agony went on and on. I became more and more frustrated then furious. My anger partially overcame the pain. I pulled an arm loose and hit the man holding me in the chest.

'Let me go! I wanna see Freddy!' I shouted.

From the other side, I heard, 'Maacum' That you in theah?'

'Freddy!' I almost cried in relief. 'Freddy, you okay?'

The curtain was pulled back by a nurse. A doctor was working on Freddy's head. There was a sheet over him with a big lump where his right arm would be.

Freddy's nurse said, 'See, he's gonna be fine.'

My mother pushed aside the curtain behind the nurse working on my feet. She looked very worried. I searched behind her for my father but saw no one.

'Oh, Malcolm, what happened?' she asked.

'A bunch of kids beat us up and took my shoes.'

I immediately regretted using the word us though I knew deception would be fruitless. She'd learn everything then tell my father who might be right outside.

The nurse asked her to wait outside.

When they finished torturing the bottoms of my feet then bandaging them, a doctor put stitches in the back of my head. Right in the middle of the suturing, I heard Freddy's mother.

'Oh Freddy honey. What have they done to you?'

He cried and said 'mama' over and over again. I heard him mention my name.

Aunt Martha pulled back the curtain. 'Maacum, oh Maacum.' She took my hand and held it for a moment. A hug wasn't possible with the doctor working on my head. 'I be right here wi' Freddy, sweety,' she said then went back to her son.

There were murmurs as everyone spoke to one another outside. At one point, the priest looked in on me and smiled.

After the doctor had cleaned up and bandaged my face, a wheelchair was brought in and I was returned to the waiting room. Two policemen were there to speak with me. They wanted to know everything that had happened. The priest made sure they got it all straight then took them to hear what Freddy had to say. They weren't with him very long because Freddy was wheeled out, his mother at his side, and down a corridor out of sight.

'They're going to operate on his arm,' was the priest's answer when I asked.

Freddy's mother came back and knelt down beside me. 'Malcolm, you the bestest friend a boy could have.' She hugged me. I hugged back. Why couldn't she have been my mother' I didn't want to let go when she started to pull away. She pushed me back in my chair. 'Don't you worry none about Freddy. The father here is gonna make sure they fix him up real good an',' she looked at my mother. 'Jes a minute.'

She stood and pulled my mother to the other side of the room. She was emphatic about what she said, shaking her head and finger at my mother.

The priest looked confused.

'My father hates Negroes,' I told him.

The priest joined Martha and my mother. They spoke for several minutes. Twice the priest shook his head in dismay.

Martha came back to me and gave me another hug. In my ear she said, 'We's gonna see what we can do, honey. You know I love you an' I ain't never gonna fo'git what you did fo' my Freddy.'

Again, I had a hard time letting her go. 'But they beat him up 'cause he came back to help me.'

'Cause you two loves each'n other. I know what he did an' I know what you did. An' I ain' never gonna fo'git.'

The priest followed us home. I doubted he'd have much effect on my father and was right.

After carrying me without a word, then the wheelchair to my room, my father turned in the doorway and said cooly, 'You both deserved what happened to you.' He went out but came right back in, angrier.

'You know you're responsible to whatever happened to that boy. I told you to stay away from him because I know what it's like in the world. You don't know anything. But you're so damn hard headed. If you hadn't've been with him, nobody would've bothered him or you. Well, boy, you're not getting out of here until school starts and then just during school hours. And I'm going to find out why you weren't at the YMCA, and how many times. I oughta beat you within an inch of your life, and still might when you're better, you little...' He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I wanted to curse him to his face but the pain in my feet and head sapped my spirit. Still, the idea that we'd deserved what had happened to us infuriated me. What hurt the most, because it was partly true, was the idea that I was responsible for what happened to Freddy. I was aware of the racism and hatred of Negroes on the other side of the tracks. I probably shouldn't have gone where we did. A wave of guilt swept over me, drowning me in scenarios in which Freddy had been killed or maimed for life.

Later, shortly before falling asleep, another terrible thought hit me. What if my father were to learn of Mr. Baldwin having sex with us' What if he found out I liked to be fucked' That his son was maybe a homo'

The priest stopped by the next morning. His name was Father Lindenhal. I sort of knew him but had made it a point to avoid the priests as much as possible.

'You know, I was planning to speak to you anyhow when school began. That was a very creative Catechism exam you handed in.'

I frowned. I had modified the commandments regarding respect for our parents and adultery, the latter because I misunderstood the meaning of the term.

He sat in my wheelchair. 'Neat, but not very comfortable.'

I'd only used it to go to the bathroom. The maid brought me my food.

'Malcolm, first, I think what you did yesterday was heroic. I have no idea how you managed to get Freddy so far on those feet of yours. And, I apologize for all the people who wouldn't help you. You have to understand that they were afraid of exactly what happened to you.

'I spoke to your father yesterday and...'

'He didn't listen,' I interrupted. 'He said we deserved what happened to us because we were together.'

He shook his head. 'Look, you know you didn't deserve anything. You were just with your friend like any other ten year old.'

'I'm still nine.'

'Sorry. Aren't you going into fifth grade?'

'My birthday's in November.'

'Malcolm, I want you to understand that you are in no way responsible for what happened. I know the police aren't going to do anything...'

'Why not?'

He spread his hands while he searched for what to say. 'I'm sorry. I thought you knew. It's a very difficult situation for everybody.'

'Not for those kids that beat us up and stole my shoes!'

'Malcolm, the race thing is very sensitive. Someday, God willing, people are going to learn to get along, but right now there are a lot of individuals who really hate Negroes.'

'Like my father.' I wanted to say 'my son-of-a-bitch' but knew it wouldn't go over well.

'Your father is the result of the world he grew up in. It is very difficult for him to understand why you'd want to be friends with a negro and he may always feel that way.' He sat back and stared at his folded fingers. 'I'm going to talk to him every once in a while and maybe, over time, we can improve his thinking. But, you've got to be patient.'

'Why' Freddy and I don't ever do anything wrong. And I help him with his school work. I read to him all the time.' Tears were welling, making it difficult to go on.

Father Lindenhal came and sat beside me on the bed. He promised to try to ease my father's hatred but I knew his efforts would be like trying to put out a bonfire with spit.

My mother's parents came by in the afternoon explaining that they hadn't been by sooner because they'd just found out. They brought a box of my grandmother's homemade chocolate chip cookies they knew I loved. My grandfather played checkers with me, losing most of the games on purpose. I wasn't very good normally. My aching feet made it even harder to concentrate.

My grandmother helped my mother change the bandages on my feet.

'These will be better in no time,' she declared convincingly.

Both my grandparents gave me long hugs with assurances of their love before they left.

I couldn't understand how two such loving people could have a daughter as incapable of love as my mother. My father's parents were just like him.

My mother's parents came every day to spend time with me. On Monday, they brought me Monopoly and invited my mother to play along but she had a lunch appointment. The game took over three hours. My grandmother was more competitive than my grandfather and won, but gracefully.

Each day, even when it rained, my grandfather carried me down stairs and out onto the front porch. That's where we were when he finally asked me to tell him what had happened on the train tracks. I told him every detail, but with a point, the one that made me miss Freddy so much every day.

'He could have kept running and they'd never catch him. He's real fast. But he came back for me.'

'What you both did for each other was wonderful and I'm very proud of both of you.'

I told him what my father had said about us deserving what happened. He made no comment about it, just hugged me to him. What I needed was for him to say he'd try to convince my mother to let me go see Freddy when my father wasn't around, but he didn't.

Thursday morning, a week after the incident, Aunt Martha came by early and spoke to my mother on the back porch. I heard her and crawled to the window.

'Wait, I can come down. Wait.'

I heard her protest but crawled to the back stairs and slid down one by one. After crawling to the pantry stairway, I slid down them and crawled to the back porch where Martha and I embraced for several minutes. I saw mother watching and let go. I had never hugged her like that but then she hadn't hugged me at all.

'Freddy's home an' fine,' Martha told me. Freddy had spent one night at the hospital then stayed in a home for Negro children for three days because they had a nurse there. He had stitches in his head, chest and left foot, a large cast with a hole over the stitches in his arm, and bandages over a number of abrasions. His nose was broken and had a bandage over it. He would be ready for school in two weeks but wouldn't be able to write until some time in November. 'And he says to tell you he loves you.'

That brought on tears. I sent back the same message.

The following Monday morning, right after my mother drove off, Louis rang the doorbell and convinced the maid he was a classmate. She led him to my door and went back to her work.

I was in the wheel chair at my desk trying to draw a dog from a magazine picture. Anything to keep from being completely bored.

'Louis!' I greeted.

He closed the door. 'Shhh. I told that woman my name was Marty.'

'Why' What happened?'

'What happened to you?'

I told him the basics including what they'd done to Freddy.

'I was afraid you told somebody about us and Lenny. He got fired and I got asked a lot of questions.'

'My son-of-a-bitch father. What did they ask you' Anything about sex?'

'Almost. They wanted to know if he ever did anything with me that I should tell them about but that was it.'

'What'd you tell them?'

'Nothing. I said I hated the program and wanted to stay at the library in the afternoons which was the truth.'

'What'd they say?'

'Nothing to me but Lenny was gone when I got back. I only went two more days. They wanted me to stay in the Y all the time so I just quit going. Nobody asked you anything?'

'No. My father said he was going to find out why I wasn't at the Y the day we got beat up but he hasn't said anything since. I haven't even seen him since. I'm not allowed out of the house until school begins then just for school, the son-of-a-bitch.'

He sat on the bed. 'Can't walk yet?'

'A little but the doctor said not to for two weeks. That's Thursday but they're still swollen. I've gotta soak them every day in hot water with some powder. Mother says she'll get me crutches if I need them.

'How long before your mother gets back?'

'I didn't know she left. What time is it?'

'I don't know.'

'There's a clock by the bed, there.' I pointed to the alarm clock on the little table by my pillow.

'Ten twenty.'

It occurred to why he was asking. 'What do you want to do?' I asked with a smile.

'You know. Can you, you know, with your feet and all.'

'We've just got to be careful. My grandparents will be here around lunch so we've got an hour at least.'

I rolled over to the bed, unbuttoning my pajamas on the way. We did it from the front first. I loved the feeling of him rocking back and forth across my perineum.

As he closed in on orgasm, I asked him to jerk me off.

He frowned. 'You do it this time and I'll do it next.'

He was as good as his word. After a wait during which we discussed Mr. Baldwin's capacity as a cock sucker ' I thought he was so-so, Louis felt my ass was much better -, we did it doggie style on top of my bed.

'Do me when you get close to your feeling.'

He took his time, using a lot of hip movement, then, as he began to thrust harder, he reached under me and took hold of my rock hard penis. Using his thumb to one side and forefinger and middle finger to the other, he masturbated me in time to his thrusting, speeding up until I felt the throbbing.

'Tell me when to stop,' he said softly.

I came as he spoke. 'Now.'

We bathed together. I wanted him to come see me regularly and try to convince my father to let me visit him.

'I'm the only one I know about that they questioned about Lenny. If they told your father my name, he's gonna say no.'

I was already worried about the same thing and decided to test it first with my mother. Louis would come back in the morning to see what the response had been. A white T shirt hanging in my window meant to come on in, no problem. Anything red meant trouble. Wait until my mother left.

'You better never mention that boy in front of your father. He knows you two were mixed up in this together,' said my mother when I asked that evening when she came to pick up my dinner dishes.

'I just got the idea from him 'cause he could stay in the library every afternoon. He didn't do anything wrong.'

'Well, Malcolm, dear, you two were gone every afternoon and supposedly went to the movies on Sundays, which neither of us believe.'

'What's wrong with you people' Freddy's a good boy, a lot better than half the white boys, no, all the white boys in my school. As soon as I'm big enough, I'm getting out of here, away from you and that son-of-a-bitch you married.'

My mother slapped me in the face, stepped back quickly with her hands over her mouth, turned quickly and left my room. 'God, I hate you two,' I muttered to myself.

Mother brought me my breakfast in the morning. She looked very apologetic. She pushed the wheel chair up to my bed and sat in it. 'Malcolm, I'm very sorry I hit you last night. Please, dear, all our lives could be so much nicer, happier, if you'd just do the one thing your father has asked. I know you like Freddy but there are so many other boys out there who won't be a problem. Why can't you play with one of them?'

'Because Freddy is my best friend. When those boys were going to beat us up and I fell, Freddy could have kept running and nothing would have happened to him, but he came back knowing he was gonna get hurt. I'll bet none of the kids in my class would have done that. I'll bet he wouldn't do it either.' I pointed in the direction of their bedroom.

'Oh, dear, of course he would. He's your father. I know you don't believe it but he loves you very much.'

'Bullshit! You don't even love me that much. That son-of-a-bitch never even talks to me except to say 'do this' or 'do that' or tell how bad I am.' I threw my breakfast tray on the floor and turned onto my face. 'God, I hate you two,' I said with all the venom I could muster.

I heard her collect the things off the floor and leave the room. I desperately wanted to jump up and tell her I was sorry, that I didn't mean what I said, but couldn't make myself move. After a while, feeling guilty, like I'd done something quite horrible, I climbed into the wheel chair and went looking for my mother. Her bathroom door was closed. I knocked. I heard hurried footsteps inside. The door opened. She'd been crying.

'I'm sorry,' was all I could get out before turning away, knowing I hadn't done nearly enough, and wheeling back toward my room.

She followed me and stood in the doorway wringing her hands. 'Malcolm, what am I supposed to do' You know there's nothing I can do. He's all I've got, and you.'

I was sure that anything I said would be the wrong thing to say so kept my mouth shut.

She walked in and sat on my bed. 'If I let you play with Freddy, he'll find out and you'll get another beating. It won't change anything. And he won't trust me any more. It won't help.'

'Then why don't you divorce the son-of-a-bitch and get us out of here.'

'I wish you'd stop using that kind of language, Malcolm. He just has that one problem, with Negroes. Otherwise, he's really a very good person.'

'He said we deserved almost getting killed. He treats me like shit. He's not a good man. He's a son-of-a-bitch and you know it!'

'Malcolm, just this one thing. My God! Why can't you just do the one thing he asks?'

I rolled to the window and hoped she'd go away before I said something worse.

'What am I going to with you two?' she said quietly as she left.

I closed the door and put a red T shirt in the window.

It didn't matter. Louis didn't show up.

Thursday after lunch, my grandparents told me I was going to their house for the weekend. My parents were going on a trip.

My grandfather asked if I wanted him to carry me down the stairs. Thinking ahead, I said no, that I could walk.

It was still uncomfortable. The bandages were only single gauze pads and tape. I wore slippers my grandmother brought for me earlier in the week. I'd tried them out the night before. The hallway was easy but I had to hold on to the railing with both hands going down the stairs.

They took me to a nice restaurant, then a movie in a fancy downtown theater that evening. When it came time for bed, grandmother tucked me in and told me she loved me.

I hoped they loved me enough to let me see Freddy on Saturday when I figured my feet could handle the walk down the steep path to the settlement.

It wasn't necessary. The next morning as I was soaking my feet, my grandfather led Freddy up the stairs.

'Maacum, Maacum!'

'Freddy, Freddy! I'm in here, in the bathroom.'

He was dressed in new clothes and shoes, smiling broad as I'd ever seen him. We hugged each other best we could with me in my wheelchair and him carrying the great cast from his armpit to his fingers. Tears dripped over my face and onto my clothes. Freddy hugged me again. When I looked, my grandfather was gone.

Freddy sat on the side of the tub. 'Lemme see yo' feets.'

I lifted them out of the water one by one. 'Mama was right. Onliest way you coulda carried me all that way was 'cuz we loves each'n other so much. You saved my life, Maacum.'

'And you saved mine. You didn't have to come back.'

'Yes I did. You come back too.' He sat on the side of the tub. 'Ain' we pretty?' said Freddy, laughing.

Freddy was there until Tuesday morning when I was to be taken home. We laughed a lot over the next four days, never discussing what had happened to us on the railroad tracks. My grandparents took us to a large park Saturday and Sunday. We were the only white people there. On Sunday, Aunt Martha, Freddy's sisters, and half the settlement joined us. They all embarrassed me with exaggerated tales of me saving Freddy's life. Freddy laughed at them all, enjoying my discomfort.

We ate ourselves full of chicken and biscuits, ribs, lots of green vegetables with corn bread covered with honey for desert. My grandmother wrote down a number of recipes.

Aunt Martha held me in her lap for nearly half an hour until Freddy's sisters demanded equal time.

But the best time of all were the nights in bed with Freddy, his cock up my rear, his heavy cast over my side. He had to jerk me off with his left arm under me. It was awkward but he always managed to get me to orgasm close to his.

We both had pajamas but never wore the bottoms. By Sunday night, we abandoned the tops too. I wanted to feel Freddy's flesh fully against mine.

Sunday, after the day in the park, I asked my grandfather if there was some way he could help us see each other once school started.

'Absolutely. Your grandmother and I have already discussed it. You can both come over Saturday and Sundays and holidays. But just let's keep Freddy being there our little secret.'

Freddy and I embraced him as tightly as I'd ever hugged Aunt Martha.

Three days later, I was back in school with a note that there'd be no gym or swimming pool for two weeks due to an injury to my feet.

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Malcolm

Chapter 5

Summer 1950

by Michael Peterson