Malcolm
Chapter 8
Sixth Grade 1951-2
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.
My grandparents were waiting for me at the hotel when I arrived on the Camp McFarlane bus late Saturday afternoon, September first, nineteen fifty-one.
'So I can come to your house again?' I asked excitedly.
'I don't know,' answered my grandfather. 'There was no one else to take you this weekend so your father had no choice if he was going to go away.'
Freddy was waiting for me at their house. We embraced in the doorway then were nudged into the living room and left alone. I hugged him and kissed his cheek repeatedly.
'Stop that, Maacum, befo' they sees you.'
'I don't care.'
Freddy laughed and insisted on a blow by blow of how many times I'd been fucked.
'How come you think I was fucked?'
''Cause I know you. So tell me.'
'A few times.'
'Shit, then it musta been a whole lot.'
I told him instead about how fancy McFarlane was compared to the YMCA camp and how I'd improved athletically.
'I can do thirty push ups,' I boasted.
'No you can't. Lemme see.'
I dropped to the rug and started with Freddy counting and laughing. He stopped laughing at fifteen. His voice became more respectful at twenty, downright reverent at twenty-five. Numbers twenty-nine and thirty were done with pure will power because my arms were exhausted. I collapsed on the floor, sweating profusely.
'Damn, Maacum. I can only do 'bout fifteen. Lemme see yo' muscles.'
I rolled over and sat up. I couldn't get my sleeve up far enough so unbuttoned and took off my shirt. I flexed my biceps. Freddy squeezed them.
'Damn, Maacum, they done turned you inta Superman!'
Freddy decided then and there to equal or surpass me in every exercise. He dropped to the floor. With a lot of grunting and his black face turning a very dark red, he accomplished seventeen pushups. I did situps beside him, leaving him at twenty-eight to do my fifty. We looked around for a pull up bar and found the shower curtain rod in the third floor bathroom. It was sturdy enough but just above our heads as we stood on the side of the tub. Freddy lifted his feet but could only do three. Tired from the pushups, I could do but thirteen. We did leg raises, twenty-four for me, seven for him, and started over with pushups.
'In two weeks, I'm gonna be bettah'n you in all of 'em.'
We were called to dinner. Grandmother had fixed chicken according to one of Aunt Martha's recipes. We even had collard greens and corn bread. Freddy told my grandparents about the thirty pushups. I showed off my new biceps and bragged about the rest of my physical accomplishments. My grandparents were suitably impressed.
In our third floor bedroom, Freddy pumped me for every detail about the camp, especially the sexual events. The only thing I downplayed was my relationship with Georgie. As promised, I didnït mention fucking Georgie that last afternoon. Freddy sensed something was being left out.
'That all you an' this Georgie done?'
'Just what I said.'
'You's lyin', Maacum.'
I was against the wall. After Freddy, Georgie was the closest friend I'd ever had. I couldn't betray his trust. I pulled out a nickel.
'Call it.'
'Aw, Maacum, you know you did sumthin' mo' with that boy.'
'Heads or tails.'
'Shit. Tails.'
I flipped the nickel. It fell to the floor and bounced under the bed. I fell to the floor ahead of Freddy and spotted it. He pushed in beside me. I lay my hand flat on top of the coin and pulled it out. It was heads.
'Mmmmph.' Freddy shook his head.
I'd lucked out.
'I still . . .'
'Not fair!'
'Okay. So how many dicks you have up yo' ass this summer?'
The conversation didn't go on much longer. Freddy was far too turned on. I gave him the relief he needed. He gave me the loving I craved. By morning, we'd both reached orgiastic heaven four times.
We had to pull the covers to our necks when my grandmother came in to awaken us in the morning. Fortunately, our pajamas were in the dresser, not out where she could have seen we weren't wearing them.
Tuesday afternoon, my grandfather sat me down to discuss my father.
'I know you're never going to stop wanting to see Freddy, and you know I support that, but you can make things easier for yourself and all of us if you just pretend to listen to your father. Don't argue or get angry about anything he says. If he asks you to do something, just do it. You gain nothing by getting angry. Remember last January. None of that had to happen.'
I protested briefly but knew my grandfather was right. Getting angry always cost me. I promised to control myself. Considering the deep hatred I had for the man, that would require some means of extracting myself from situations before they got out of hand, unless, of course, I could avoid them altogether. That was worth thinking about.
I was back with my parents Tuesday evening. My mother gave me a hug. I returned it though confused. I couldn't remember the last time she'd done that. My father was in the living room reading the newspaper.
She wanted to hear all about my McFarlane experience.
'I got good at baseball.'
'Really, dear. And what else?'
I picked up her enthusiasm. We talked for at least twenty minutes, the longest we had ever conversed. I showed her my new biceps and harder tummy. She touched both and expressed awe.
'Go on upstairs and wash up for dinner. And, Malcolm, I love you.'
I almost jumped on her, embracing her as powerfully as I'd ever hugged Freddy. 'I love you too.' There were tears in my eyes.
I rushed upstairs trying to figure out what had happened, how my distant mother all of the sudden was so loving. Could it have been the influence of my grandparents' Perhaps she finally realized how wrong my father had been all these years. Whatever the reason, it was a wonderful change. Would she now cooperate in allowing me to be with Freddy'
The bubbly talk continued at dinner. What worried me was the occasional smirk on my father's face. He obviously wasn't enthused about our happy conversation.
His only comment at the table was, 'Let's get to the lawn tomorrow, son. It's been growing for a month.'
School opened the next day. Mowing the lawn after my first day in sixth grade wasn't what I wanted to do. I bowed my head and bit my lip.
Mother said, 'It will be good exercise, keep your new muscles strong.'
I nodded and forced myself to eat.
My class lost two students and picked up three new ones. Ronnie Stevens, who I thought might have been like me, didnït return. The new boys were very ordinary. One, a small kid who despite his size had a changing voice, knew Glenn Harrison and stuck with him all day.
Paul Simpson had grown over the summer and lost some of his fat but not his big mouth. Most looked pretty much the same as last I'd seen them. I looked forward to gym class, this year on Thursdays, to show off my new athletic prowess.
Our gym teacher, Mr. O'Donnell, 'in order to get off some of that summer vacation fat', led us on a run around half the campus, easily half a mile, leaving most straggling or collapsed somewhere behind in the grass. I proudly stayed close behind him the entire way. Tommy Atkins and two others kept up but were gasping for air when we got back to the field in front of our building.
'Well, Malcolm, you've been working out?'
'Yes, sir,' I answered with a glance at Tommy Atkins then Martin O'Malley who was just arriving.
We stretched, touched our toes then got to pushups. I was the only one still doing them after eighteen. I forced thirty.
'Shit, Malcolm,' whispered Tommy Atkins, 'where'd you learn to do that?'
'At Camp McFarlane.'
Pat O'Reilly said, 'That's for rich kids. Your old man rich?'
'No, he just wanted to get rid of me for the summer.'
'I wish my old man would get rid of me there.'
Pat, Tommy, Martin and the other athletes were all impressed with my new skills. Mr. O'Donnell pulled out some footballs. I knew my newfound status was about to be downgraded dramatically.
My throwing was short and off the mark. I only caught two of a dozen or so throws. I was put on the line to block during a short scrimmage. After two successful blocks, the boys across from me merely dodged around me. Strength and agility are not always partners.
No one said anything, not a thing. I was again out of the loop. Worse, no one was tossing baseball cards probably due to the time of year.
After school, Freddy arrived behind the barn as I was cranking up the lawn mower. My mother had let me off first so wouldn't be home for a while. The maid was in the kitchen so she could see me from the middle of the room though not from in front of the sink where she probably was.
I told him to open the small door by pig sty, enter then let me in the main door.
I looked up at the house but couldn't see the maid meaning she couldn't see me. Freddy opened the door. I darted inside and pulled it shut behind me.
I told Freddy about the order to mow the lawn.
'Then we gotta be fast,' he said.
'You said I was always thinking about sex. What about you?'
He pushed me toward the stairs and up to the second floor. He wanted to try fucking me sideways as I told him Georgie had done.
After a few short thrusts, he said, 'This is too hard. Let's do it our way.'
I lay on my stomach and he punched away, rolling us on our side as he climaxed so he could jerk me off.
'I gotta keep my father happy with my work so he won't be bothering me so much. We better wait until Saturday around eleven for you to come back.'
I wanted to tell him about my mother's new attitude but had already lost twenty minutes on the lawn.
Saturday, we were less rushed. Freddy wanted to do exercises first.
'Why' We'll just be tired.'
'So's you can see I'm catchin' up ta ya'll.'
He was. He'd increased his numbers in all four exercises but was still way behind me. I knew I'd have to work out every day to keep him from getting ahead.
Lovemaking was enhanced by the sweat that covered us. Freddy's whole body slid up and down me as he fucked.
I told Freddy about how my mother was being nice to me.
'You think she gonna let us be together when yo' fatha ain' aroun?''
'I'm afraid to ask her but maybe I oughta. Whatta you think?'
'All's she can say is no, o' yes.'
I asked her Sunday morning after Mass as she was fixing breakfast.
She sat at the kitchen table. 'Knowing you two, I'm sure you're getting together somehow but I don't want to know anything about it. All I can say, dear, is that you shouldn't let anybody see you two together, especially Janet. I'm not going to say any more than that.'
Janet was our maid. I hugged her and said, 'Thank you, mom.' She hugged me back. I believe it was the first time I ever called her mom.
A few hours after breakfast, I'd raked up all the cut grass and tossed it into the pigsty. Freddy showed up at one thirty, but my father was fixing the back porch stairs. Freddy saw him and went back home.
By avoiding my father, doing what he told me without comment, and making sure the trash was out and the empty cans brought back in on schedule, my work load gradually diminished. On days when my mother was home and there were no chores, Freddy and I would go to the stream as in days gone by. On the afternoons when mother went somewhere, Freddy and I went into the barn. I'd always show my face for Janet the maid so she wouldn't report that I'd gone off somewhere. Mother never asked where I was.
At school, matters were less positive. Paul Simpson took to calling me queer baits. Tommy Atkins and Martin O'Malley gave me some hope when they told him a number of times to cut it out. Unfortunately, that didn't translate into contact with me. I generally sat with Glenn Harrison, the new little kid with the changing voice whose name was Francis Xavier Meyers, and a couple of other social ne'er do wells.
Francis, a slightly above average student with a roguish oval face and squinty eyes, was funny in an underhanded way. He hated the nuns and gave each a nickname. Our teacher, Sister Mary Bernice, an older nun who knew the material but not how to explain it, he called 'Sister Mary What I Mean To Say' for her constant use of that phrase. Our principal was 'Sister Bouncing Veil' for the way she was always trying to adjust her veil with a downward shake of her head. He called Paul Simpson 'Simplemouth'. My favorite was his nickname for Victor Cibelli, 'Victor Longdong'. I found it interesting he'd notice.
At our first swimming class on a Monday, I immediately noticed the big lump in Francis' slightly undersized swimming trunks. He was several inches shorter than me, shorter still than the tall, undeveloped and phallicly undersized Glenn, but apparently was entering puberty. There were even scraggly dark hairs on the calves of his stubby legs. His arms were short too but looked strong. I wondered why he didn't do better at gym.
After our third Monday swim class, Sister Bernice didn't supervise us as we dressed so I wandered down the aisle naked slowly putting on my undershirt. Only a few doors were closed. Tommy Atkins took off his suit in front of Pat O'Riley's locker. I knew he was already twelve but no frontal development had taken place yet. His body was a banquet of suckable parts. He didn't seem to notice my eyes caressing him until he turned and smiled at me. I blushed and turned my gaze elsewhere, immediately regretting it. When I looked back, he was stepping into his cubicle. Was he interested'
My attention was diverted behind me when I heard Francis call my name.
'Looking for a friend?' he asked seductively with a broad grin.
He had on his undershirt but nothing else. His cock looked enormous on his small body. There was pubic hair all around its base. He saw where I was looking. When I approached, he said quietly, 'big, isn't it.'
He followed me into my cubicle. 'Wanna touch it?'
'Francis, get outta here,' I said though not meaning a word.
He stepped in close. 'Go ahead. Touch it.'
I did. It was as thick as Harry's and Michael's, and, in seconds, just as long. Francis pulled my cubicle door closed behind him and latched it. He whispered, 'Suck me.'
I began to kneel in front of him but stopped myself. 'We don't have time.'
'Just a little.' He pushed down on my shoulders.
I knelt in front of him. He held his cock out with one hand and pulled my head to it with the other. I opened and took it in to the back of my mouth. It was a perfect fit. I sucked and ran my tongue all over his shaft. He pushed and pulled my head. I went back and forth, cock head to pubic hairs. I heard him breathing hard through his nose. He gripped my head by the ears and fucked my mouth hard and fast.
Twice he said, 'Oh, mama.'
I ran my hands over the gentle curve of his buns. I felt the expansion, the hardening. He was fast. He lifted up on his toes and fired off a series of shots of boy sperm into the back of my mouth. It tasted moderately sweet like Frankie Stilling's.
He panted, 'Thanks, Malcolm. It's been three months. Don't worry. I won't say anything. Just promise we can do this again.'
I was still savoring his cock and the juice it had just delivered. I nodded okay.
He pulled out. 'Gimme a towel. I gotta get back to my locker.'
I handed him mine. He opened the door and walked out like nothing had happened. I sat on the bench, swishing his cum around in my mouth, yearning to do Francis again.
My towel came flying over the top of the cubicle wall. I sat starting to worry that someone may have seen him come out my cubicle door and guessed what had gone on. If Tommy Atkins or Victor Cibelli had seen it and wanted some of the same, that was fine. But what if big mouth Paul had noticed' I mustn't allow it at the pool again. I re-latched the door and jerked off.
At lunch, Francis didn't act in any way different toward me. I sat beside him on the wall to eat. He offered me half of his banana. I gave him one of my large cookies. What I really wanted, well, you know.
Tuesday morning at recess, I took him to the jerk off hideout behind the school. It was occupied. We were invited not to enter by some adolescent voices.
I led him around and up the hill to the back of the grotto. The bushes had been trimmed.
We'd hardly spoken a word. He probably assumed another blow job. I wanted to get fucked though was somewhat concerned, based on the previous day's fast fruition, that it would be over before I could have much enjoyment.
'Let's go to the boys' room,' suggested Francis. 'I know a way we can do it there. We just gotta be quiet.'
We ran down the hill, trotted down the stairs, walked across the plaza, into the building and down the stairs to the basement boys' room for older boys, which had officially become ours when we entered sixth grade. Two seventh graders were leaving. There was no one inside. He hustled me into a toilet stall and closed and latched the door.
He whispered, 'You wanna suck or get fucked?' as he opened his pants. 'I got some crŠme if you wanna fuck.'
That took me by surprise. Words rolled around my tongue but didn't come out coherently.
He made the decision and started undoing my belt. I stood there and watched him. Once my pants were down to my thighs, he pulled a small round tin out of his pocket, pried it open and spread a semi-transparent grease over the head and shaft of his cock. It didn't smell like Vaseline.
'Quick, sit on it and I'll keep your feet up so nobody can see there's two of us in here.'
He turned me around as he sat on the toilet seat then pulled me back toward him. He slid forward and poked his cock between my cheeks.
'Sit on it.'
I sat back. The head slipped between my ass cheeks. He found the hole with his thumb, exactly as Harry and Michael always did, and pulled me down. Entry was fast and complete. My rectum received him with an embrace. My prostate radiated happiness. I felt like he was halfway up to my lungs.
He yanked me back as he slid up on the seat and pulled my knees up, wrapping his arms around my legs.
'That okay?' he asked in a whisper.
'Mmm hmm.'
For a while, he arched gently into me, pulling out just enough to run his cock head back and forth over my sweet spot.
'Can I come to your house one day?' he asked.
'Mmm hmm.'
Some kids came in. I recognized the voices as two of my classmates. They were talking about Paul Simpson and a remark he made about a fat girl in the other school. Paul wasn't making any friends with his big mouth.
They left. Francis, who hadn't stopped pumping into me, upped the tempo, once again breathing heavily through his nose. He had already taken much longer than the day before. I felt like I was floating on his cock. With each thrust he tugged on my legs, rocking me back and forth, his penis pulling against my rectum making my perineum glow with pleasure. His legs flexed straight out then pulled back. His faced pressed into my back. My cock was ready to burst.
His breathing came in nasal gasps. His arms pulled me tighter. He went, 'Mmmmmphita', and pulsed strongly inside me.
With a strain in his voice, he asked, 'Want me to jerk you off?'
'Yes, quick. I dropped my knees, my legs resting on top of his. He masturbated me rapidly, pumping in short jerks as he did. I came in seconds.
If anyone had come in at that point, our feet and pants on top of one another just inside the stall door would have been a dead giveaway. We were lucky.
I pulled my legs back up. We sat there quietly for several minutes until Francis' cock softened and fell out of me. Francis handed me a wad of toilet paper and snapped off another for himself. I wiggled my ass around enjoying the thought of boy cum slushing about inside.
As we pulled our pants up, the bell rang. I knew some boys would run in at the last minute and stepped outside the stall and into the next one. At least half a dozen pairs of feet ran in.
I invited Francis for a walk at lunch.
'You wanna do it again, so soon?'
'No, just talk.' I wanted to know where he'd done this before. Monday, he had said it had been three months since his last time. He said he knew how to do it in a toilet stall and obviously did. I was overwhelmed with curiosity.
'Three months ago' There was a kid like you in fourth grade. We did it in the janitor's closet. He worked at night.'
'What do you mean, a kid like me?'
'Aw, c'mon, Malcolm. You know. And when I saw you looking all over at that kid Tommy, well . . .'
What I didn't understand and wanted desperately to know was why some kids seemed to know and others didn't. Not even Freddy had given me a satisfactory answer to that.
'Did you fuck the other boy too?'
'Sure.'
'Wait a minute, if you had that janitor's closet, how come you did it in the bathroom too?'
'That was a different kid. I met him in a movie theater. He did it with men too. I had to pay him fifty cents. The men gave him a dollar.'
'Where was that?'
He named a theater in a working class section of town far from us. Francis lived a few miles from me in a far nicer section of the city than that of the theater.
'Why'd you go there' That's really far from your house.'
'This guy I knew used to go over there for boys.'
'You mean a man?'
'Yeh. He's a friend of my uncle and used to take us kids places sometimes. But he had some kinda problem, probably because of him and boys. Haven't seen him since June. Too bad, he'd a liked you.'
'So there's boys in that movie theater for sex?' I wanted to know more about the boys, not big old hairy men.
'A couple but there's more out on the boulevard. You pick them up, give 'em money for the movie and they go in. Then you go in and go up to the balcony. Then they find you and you go to the bathroom. Hardly anybody goes in there so it's easy.'
I was stiff as a board. 'You go there a lot?'
'Not since Bart left. I was sure glad to meet you.'
'So why don't you go to the theater?'
'I'm not allowed very far away from the house unless I get permission. They gotta know where I am. They'd let me go to your house.'
I immediately saw complications with that unless it was on a Sunday. Thanks in part to my mother, I hoped to be with Freddy most days. Sundays, my father was generally home at least until late afternoon when he sometimes went out for dinner with my mother. Mother had promised to let me know when that was going to occur. I wondered if she had any inkling what Freddy and I did sexually.
That afternoon after a full exercise session, we again exploited the sweat all over us. Freddy knew I'd been screwed. I was amazed.
'You got somethin' greasy all over yo' asshole, dummy. You gonna get caught one a these days an' yo' fatha gonna throw yo' ass off'n the roof up theah.'
I told him about Francis and everything he'd told me about the boys on the
boulevard and the movie theater.
'An' now you wanna go theah and git fucked some mo.'
'I dunno. I think it's mostly men doing it but I don't want to do it if it's when I can be with you.'
Freddy smiled at me and said, 'I know.'
He fucked me again, masturbating me slowly the entire time.
I told mother that night about Francis and asked if he could come to the house on Sundays. She promised to ask my father. The answer didn't come until Friday afternoon when mother picked me up along with the four other kids in our car pool. I rushed out to catch Francis on the school bus and tell him the good news. His mother was going to drop him off after church if I got permission.
There was a condition with my father's permission. We were not to go off the property.
Saturday, my mother stayed home all day. The moment my father went off to his club, I raced down to the back of the barn where Freddy was already climbing in the pig sty door and pulled him out. We spent three hours at the stream, exercising, exploring, looking for small animals, chasing water walking insects and talking about building a new tree house. Sex didn't come up.
My father came home and found me raking leaves from under the hedge in the front of the house, something he hadn't ordered. He stood by his car watching me for a few moments then went inside without a word. It was part of a new plan to regulate my own time. I knew what he wanted done and when it was needed. If I could stay on top of things, then perhaps he wouldn't be ordering me to do chores when I had other plans.
Francis' mother arrived Sunday morning at ten thirty. We were still eating breakfast. Mother invited her in and offered the two of them sticky buns and juice. Francis and I went to my room while our mothers chatted in the living room.
'I gotta do some work today in the yard. Wanna help?'
He agreed though unenthusiastically. We cleaned leaves out from the hedges around the house.
When we finished, I asked my mother permission for us to go to the candy store on the way to my school. I promised to be back in less than half an hour. Permission was granted.
We ran down the back yard, down the steps and just far enough down the hill to be out of sight of the living room picture window. We reversed direction and walked quickly, tight against the base of the hill at the bottom of our property, to the tall bushes between our land and the next. We rushed up behind them to the back of the barn, down into the pig sty and into the barn through the small door.
Francis was impressed when I showed him how we faked the door's lock and nails. I took him upstairs and dug out the sleeping bag and the roll of toilet paper I figured we'd need for cleanup.
'Well, let's get naked and do it right,' he declared.
We slid into the warmth of the sleeping bag. I had him fuck me from the front. After a few thrusts, he pulled out and said, 'It's better if you lie on your stomach.'
He poked away slowly for a while then rolled us on our sides and fucked me a few minutes more. Finally, he rolled onto his back with me on top of him. With his short arms wrapped around my stomach, he pulled back then plunged hard into me, bouncing off the floor and grunting with each thrust. The angle into me was perfect. His cock was stretching and rubbing everywhere I wanted it to. Masturbation wasn't going to be necessary. I came. He said 'uuuuuuu' and 'aaahhh' and fired off. I was still pulsing when he started.
When my throbbing stopped, I sat up and turned sideways to him, flush over his crotch. There was no way his cock could come out. His eyes were closed. I caressed his strong chest and tummy.
'I don't think I can do it again real soon,' he said.
I was disappointed but knew that once kids' balls grew, they didn't recover as fast as Freddy and I. We figured to be the same in a year or two.
I moved my ass around on him. I could barely feel his cock inside. It had gone soft.
'Want me to jerk you off,' he offered.
I was still plenty hard. He got up on his elbows, leaned to one side and went to work. I pumped into his hand as he masturbated me, hoping to resuscitate his penis inside my rectum. It worked enough that I felt him inside me, poking back and forth as I moved my hips.
'You keep that up and maybe I can cum again.'
I kept it up. He was doing a great job. I began to bloat. I came. He felt the throbbing and let me go, falling back onto the sleeping bag but keeping his cock inside.
'Don't stop,' he whispered and nudged my rear with his hand. I was moving up and down by flexing my ass muscles and moving my hips around.
'Quick, lie back on me then we can roll onto you stomach.'
I lay back. He pumped into me a few times then urged me over. Once on top he began thrusting hard and fast. His hands gripped my arms then my shoulders then back to my hips. He made a series of increasingly louder moaning sounds then 'mmmmmmhhh' and shot a second load into my rectum. He went limp on top of me and gasped for breath.
'Whew, Malcolm. That's, that's the first time in a year I could do it twice in a row. You really are good. Wow.'
I'd have stayed like that for a good while but knew our half hour was over. We cleaned up quickly, stashed the sleeping bag and rushed back to the bottom of the concrete stairs into our property. We walked slowly up the yard and into the kitchen where we both drank a glass of water to hide the fact that we hadn't eaten any candy.
Things went fairly well through the rest of nineteen fifty-one. Freddy and I continued to work out, adding exercises of our own like walking around on tip toes and doing pushups from behind. He caught up and passed me in sit ups and leg raises but I managed to stay slightly ahead in push ups and pull ups.
My eleventh birthday was on a Friday.
Mother's original plan called for a small family party on Friday with my grandparents and possibly some other relatives then a real birthday party for kids on Saturday. I was to invite all my classmates. After some brief enthusiasm, I told her I'd rather not. To have a birthday party without Freddy just seemed terribly wrong.
She suggested a compromise. She and my grandparents would take Freddy and me someplace nice Saturday at noon while my father was at his club. Then I could have a party with my classmates afterward. I thought about it for a full day. It was an opportunity to have the likes of Tommy Atkins, Martin O'Malley and Victor Cibelli to my house. With that huge yard and the whole first floor of the house, we could have quite a good time. But, in the end, the thought of any celebration with all those kids but not Freddy was simply unbearable. Freddy was the center of my life. There could be little side shows but the main event, the center ring of my existence, was Freddy Jackson.
Mother had asked me what I wanted as a gift. It gave me an idea but not how to make it work.
'I wanna spend the weekend with Freddy.'
'Oh, dear, you know that won't be possible.'
That night I wracked my brain trying to think what excuse would work to free up an entire weekend. An idea struck me. It was nine o'clock, a bit late but not too late. I sneaked to the kitchen with my little address book and called Delaware. The operator sounded suspicious about a little kid making a long distance call but she put me through. A woman answered.
'Is Georgie there?' I asked.
'It's nine o'clock, of course he is. Who's this?'
'Tell him it's Malcolm from camp.'
'Good grief, the kid from his cabin?'
'Yes.'
'You're all he talks about. Wait a minute.'
Moments later, Georgie, out of breath, answered, 'Malcolm, shit, Malcolm. Is that you?'
'Hi Georgie!'
We gurgled over each other for a few minutes then he told me, 'I called you twice and some man said you weren't there one time and then you weren't allowed to take calls and not to call back. Was that your father?'
'Probably.'
Georgie wanted me to come visit him.
'That's sort of why I'm calling.' I told him of my idea to fake an out of town visit and stay with Freddy.
'You didn't tell him, did you?' He was talking about me screwing him.
'No. I didn't. Now listen.' I wanted him to convince his mother to say, if anyone called, that I was visiting him but we were out somewhere so I couldn't come to the phone.
'I don't know. I'll ask her. She knows you have a black friend and your father, you know. She thinks your father's a creep. Can you call me back in fifteen minutes.'
I said I'd try but would call him early in the morning if I couldn't.
'I leave at a quarter to seven for school so you gotta call before then.'
I sat in the kitchen watching the clock and listening for my father. After fifteen minutes, hearing nothing, I called back.
The operator that time just took our phone number and dialed Georgie. He answered. Mother says okay but you gotta tell us when.'
'It's for my birthday on November ninth and the rest of the weekend.'
'Okay but can't you come up here for real sometime?'
'I'll ask. Can you come here?'
'I already asked. My mother's gotta talk to my father. When can I call you and you'll answer the phone?'
'Just don't call after six weekdays, or weekends. I'll write you a letter when you can call. And you gotta write me back.'
That out of the way, I had to convince my mother to go along.
She didn't like the idea a bit. 'Dear, if he ever found out, oh, it would be terrible.'
'How's he gonna find out' I'll stay with Freddy's family the whole time. I won't go anywhere white people can see me. It would be the best birthday present you could ever give me. Please.'
Her final approval I took as a testament of her desire to be right by me. Although she probably didn't believe I understood the extent of her risk, I did. This was a direct defiance, something he would take very seriously, seriously enough to leave her.
She thought having Georgie down for a weekend would be fine and suggested Thanksgiving, two weeks after my birthday. Rather than wait for letters to go back and forth, I called him. Once again, his father had to be consulted. Georgie called back half an hour later. Mother, who I'd alerted a call might be coming in from Georgie, waited with me in the kitchen, answered the ring and handed it to me. Georgie would call the week of the nineteenth with arrival information.
The next day, Freddy said, 'That coin flip don't mean I can't ast him.'
'Yes it does. The rule is the subject, not who.'
'You made that rule.'
'But you agreed to it. I agreed to your rule that the winner can keep talking for one minute.'
'Shit, Maacum, you becomin' a damn lawyer.'
Since I was supposedly going to Delaware on my birthday, mother set up the family party for Thursday evening. When I told Francis about the party that night, he assumed it was my birthday and celebrated by putting his growing cock inside me down in the boiler room. He'd learned how to get in there a couple of weeks before. Freddy put his in me up in the barn after school and mother put some tuna casserole in me along with some cake at the party attended by my grand parents, my aunt from the county and her daughters, and a Jesuit priest friend of my grandfather who brought me a book called 'A Child's Guide To Philosophy'.
My mother picked me up after school on the ninth and dropped me off with an overnight bag on the street above Freddy's settlement. Before leaving the car, I held her and told her how much I loved her and that I understood how much she loved me.
Aunt Martha knew I was coming because my grandfather called her at her employer's home. It was an incredible weekend. Freddy and I, after a night of intermittent lovemaking, spent most of Saturday at the stream working on our new tree house using a saw Douglas' uncle loaned us and a big fishing knife Brenda provided. That night, dead tired from hardly sleeping the night before, we fell soundly asleep after making love just once. Sunday morning, Aunt Martha, Freddy, his three sisters and I were taken to church in the pickup of a relative Aunt Martha contacted to avoid risking a bus ride during which I might be spotted.
Church was as great as I remembered it. The pastor himself welcomed me back when I walked in. Once again, the music was inspiring, uplifting, passionate, glorious. I fumbled along with a hymn book, singing softly so as not to make too much of a spectacle of myself though, being the only white face in the church, I already was.
Back at the house we had a birthday party for six of us adults and kids whose birthdays fell within a few weeks of mine.
Freddy and I finished off the day trying to complete our new tree house but not coming close. Part of the problem was the cold. Our fingers couldn't work very fast making ropes out of vines that didn't have the flexibility they would in the spring many months off. The sleeping bag and one of the blankets was in the barn so we put off that part of our relationship until the next time we would be together there, hopefully, the next day.
At five, Aunt Martha had a pot of boiling water on the stove for Freddy and me to take behind the curtain and mix with cold for a good bath. We poured water over each other's heads and scrubbed. I washed Freddy head to toe. He did my back and ears. My grandfather met me above the settlement at five thirty. I was supposed to be coming back on a train that arrived downtown at six.
My parents weren't at home when we arrived. Only my father's car was missing. I worried they might have gone to the train station, a horrible thought. We waited for nearly half an hour before they drove in. I watched as my father got out of the car, looking for an indication of trouble. He looked our way and walked to the door, unlocked it and went inside.
Suitcase in hand, I ran to my mother. She was smiling. I knew everything was okay. We walked in, arm in arm.
Francis seemed to be losing interest in my butt. When we started in late September at the pool, he wanted it daily even though we rarely accomplished that. Then, he'd only come to the house two Sundays in a row, skipped one, come the next and no more since. Sex at school was down to once or twice a week. He was still perfectly friendly but not nearly as horny as those first incredible days. It seemed my ass had a very satisfying effect on some. I sure enjoyed it.
Glenn Harrison let slip another possible reason. I knew Francis was seeing a girl from the girl's school but then lots of the sixth graders were dating, most actually. What caught my attention was Glenn's remark to Francis about cum on the girl's dress. Afterward, he said he was joking but Francis' uncomfortable expression at the time had me thinking differently.
The day he gave me a load of his cum as a birthday present, I asked him about it.
'Nah, she's a virgin.'
I knew then what a virgin was. 'So's Virgina, supposedly, but I know she's blown at least Bradley and I think Victor and maybe Pat.'
'Well, just don't talk about it. You're not pissed, are you?'
'That's stupid. You're a boy. She's a girl. It's normal.'
I was being facetious and poking fun at my not so normal desires.
Francis said, 'You're a neat kid, Malcolm.'
I took it as a compliment, and a partial goodbye.
Wednesday evening, the twenty-second of November, the day before Thanksgiving nineteen fifty-one, my grandfather and I waited at the train station. My parents had left earlier on a flight to Europe. No one else could or wanted to take me so I ended up with my father's last option.
The station was jammed with holiday travelers. I'd made a sign with 'Georgie' written in large letters and had my grandfather hold it over his head. There was no way Georgie and I could spot each other in that sea of heavy coated adults. I climbed on the back of a bench against the wall and watched the people coming up the stairs from the train he was supposed to be on. The crowd thinned and dissipated with no Georgie in sight. Then a conductor walked up the stairs with Georgie in hand. I shouted loud enough for faces to turn from all over.
'Georgie! Georgie!'
He let go of the conductor's hand and ran to me. The conductor chased him with his suitcase. Georgie remembered it a few feet from me and turned around. The conductor laughed and handed it to him. We left the station arms over each other's shoulders.
Georgie had all kinds of questions he felt intimidated asking in the presence of my grandfather so discussed how it was warmer here than where he'd just come from. The train, he allowed, was better than the one he took to visit his father. I told him how I'd kept up my exercises and was battling with Freddy for supremacy.
Freddy waited for us inside my grandfather's house.
'So you's the famous Georgie Maacum won't tell me nothin' about.'
Georgie grinned at me and shook Freddy's hand. I carried Georgie's suitcase up to our room on the third floor.
Georgie grabbed my hand and held it to his crotch. He was stiff as a bedpost. Freddy laughed.
'You bad as Maacum.'
'It's been almost three months. None of the kids where I live or in school wanna do anything.'
'You said you were doing it with a boy,' I insisted.
'Yeh, jerking off, not what we do.'
'Well, we gotta eat now.'
'Then just suck on it. Please. I've been hard all the way on the train.'
'Go ahead, Maacum. Way he is, won't take but a minute.'
Georgie was already undoing his pants. He pushed them down to his knees and hopped backward onto the bed. His dick could have poked a hole through slate.
I climbed up on the bed and between his legs, slipping my hands under his warm buns. The moment I put my mouth on him, I knew it would be quick. I squeezed his ass and revolved my head, sucking hard on his entire shaft.
Freddy sat beside us and watched. I pulled a hand loose and touched his crotch. He would want some service too.
Georgie came in less than a minute.
The moment Freddy saw Georgie's body stiffen, he pushed his pants down. He wasn't wearing underwear.
My grandmother called us to dinner just as I started in on him.
'Shit! But you gotta do me soon's we eats.'
Dinner was a banquet. Grandmother wasn't sure what Georgie liked so fixed
a little of a lot. Georgie liked it all. Freddy always ate anything put in front of him. I was the choosey one. We emptied every bowl, pleasing grandmother no end.
Freddy said his cock could wait until later. He never was one for sex on a full stomach.
Georgie, sure I'd been active, wanted to hear about all the action during the past three months of school.
Freddy and I told him about Francis and his tales of the movie theater scene.
'Oh, shit, can we go over there?'
'I don't know where it is and I'm not gonna see Francis until Monday in
school.'
'Shit. And they pay the kids in there?'
'That's what Francis says.'
The conversation gradually drifted away from sex to our place by the stream. A trip there wouldn't be possible until Friday. I wanted to stay at Freddy's on Saturday night and go to his church on Sunday.
'I don't go to church, Malcolm. You know that.'
'This isn't like church, well, it is, but the music and, you're gonna love it.'
We were all sitting on the bed, Freddy and Georgie cross legged. I was lying flat with my chest on Freddy's lap. Freddy fiddled with my hair as we conversed.
Georgie was ready to go to bed early but not out of drowsiness. Freddy insisted we do our exercises. I suggested we do them naked. Georgie stayed right with us on everything.
'We do this shit in school every day.'
It was hard for me to concentrate with all those bare muscles flexing. I fantasized Tommy Atkins and Martin O'Malley naked doing pull ups, their beautiful pectorals flexing.
We lay on our backs panting and playing with hard ons then slipped under the covers, the smell and slipperiness of the sweat making me very excited. It was a little tight. The three of us were pressed against one another. Georgie poked his pecker between my cheeks.
My grandmother knocked on the door. I looked around quickly to see if any pajamas were in sight. Georgie's suitcase was open on the floor, his pajamas on top.
'Wait a minute, we're changing,' I called out and jumped out of bed.
I threw Georgie his pajamas and grabbed Freddy's and mine out of the dresser. 'Just put on the tops, I whispered.
I pulled on both pieces and opened the door.
'That looks awfully small for the three of you. One could sleep in the other room, if you'd like.'
'We're okay,' I told her.
She kissed each of our foreheads. 'You were exercising. Shouldn't you take a bath or shower?'
'We'll do it in the morning,' I told her.
She said good night and left us.
Georgie was pulling down my pajama bottoms as she closed the door.
'You wanna go first, Freddy?' he asked.
'Nah, you do it now. I'll do it after.'
Georgie wanted to do it with me on my side and him sitting on my thigh. Freddy had tried it that way once but didn't like it very much.
I lubed Georgie well and he slipped in. Freddy watched, rubbing his hand up and down from his balls to his tummy, flipping his cock back and forth as he went by. Georgie was still hot and pumped hard and fast. The tip of his cock touched my sweet spot every few thrusts and his leg massaged my cock and balls. Fortunately, Georgie was quick again, preserving my orgasm for Freddy.
Georgie wanted to go to the bathroom. I had to remind him to put on his pajama bottoms.
Freddy slid in behind me, wrapped his arms around my middle and pushed inside. I took hold of his head and kissed his cheek by his mouth.
'That white boy really likes it, don' he?'
'I told you. It's not just Negroes.'
'Mebbe, but almost all us niggas loves it. You know a mess a white boys don' wanna.'
'That's what they say. Remember Philip' He really wanted to but that stupid priest told him he'd go to hell.'
'If'n he's right, you an' me's in bad trouble when we dies.'
We both giggled.
Georgie came back and slipped in on my side of the bed. For a while, he watched the slow movement of the covers as Freddy fucked gently but deeply.
Then, 'I washed mine off. Suck it again?'
Freddy chuckled.
Georgie slid up but was cramped against the headboard.
'Turn aroun',' suggested Freddy, an' push off them sheets.'
Georgie pushed the blanket and sheet down with his feet then switched directions, putting his erect cock in front of my mouth. His face was inches away from Freddy's hand slowly massaging mine.
Georgie fucked my mouth, taking his time for a change. Then, he lifted my top leg to watch what was happening behind me. His penis stiffened. He slowed down.
Without changing his tempo. Freddy lengthened his stroke and pushed in harder, exciting my anus and poking my prostate with every entry. I came first, as usual of late. The constrictions of my anus carried Freddy to his orgasm. Georgie noticed. It was enough to get him to his zenith.
Once over his orgasm, Georgie switched back around and lay facing me, head on his hand. Freddy and I hadn't moved.
'You guys gonna do it again?'
'Later,' Freddy told him.
'So you sleep like that?'
'Mmm hmm,' I answered.
'Shit,' he said softly. 'You want the covers back up?'
We did.
Sometime in the middle of the night, our movement woke up Georgie.
'Shit, you doing it again' How many times?'
'Jus' three,' answered Freddy. 'Go on back ta sleep. We almos' done.'
We weren't actually. Freddy was lying on top of me, his hands under my shoulders. It took a wonderfully long time that way.
Thanksgiving Day we played in the alley then had turkey dinner with Aunt Martha and her two girls. After dropping off our guests, my grandfather took us to the zoo. Georgie had been to the huge Bronx Zoo in New York City so had to force his superlatives.
After dinner, we camped out in front of my grandfather's radio and listened to sounds from around the world and a lot of teletype.
Bedtime followed the exact same script from the night before except that Georgie slept through our middle of the night union. He was impressed that we could sleep with Freddy on top of me.
Friday, carrying bagged lunches and money for drinks, we took the streetcar to the stream. Freddy sat apart from us so no one who saw me could say I was with a Negro.
Georgie loved the woods and stream but especially the complete privacy and quiet.
'When it's warm, we can be here all day naked and no one sees us,' I told him.
'So you can fuck right out in the open and not worry about anybody catching you.'
'Shit, yeh. We done it thousands a times. If'n we had the sleepin' bag heah, we could do it right now.'
You can guess the rest. We sneaked up to the barn, brought the sleeping bag and blanket back to the stream and fucked like bunnies.
We also got some more work done on the tree house and showed Freddy's settlement to Georgie. Our guest from Delaware was apprehensive at first and commented to me about the poverty he saw but was happy to come back the next day.
The three of us slept in Freddy's bed Saturday night. That was really tight. We almost fucked each other by default. A hard on had nowhere else to go but the next person's crack. Georgie tried to sleep with his back to Freddy but fell out of the bed. We just had to mold to each other. Freddy molded right inside me. Georgie's right arm and leg lay over the two of us. I wondered where his dick was while Freddy pumped into me. I had this delightful vision of it poking in and out of Freddy's muscular cheeks.
When I asked Georgie in the morning, he said, 'It was going somewhere. I came and had to pull away when it was ticklish.'
On the way to church in the pickup, I wondered if that was a message from Freddy that he was ready to try something entirely new. He had to figure Georgie would tell me.
Georgie was handed a hymn book by the same woman who gave me mine. He was awed but I doubt inspired. He tried to clap a few times but was forever off beat. He didn't attempt singing.
Later when we were alone for a few minutes, he told me he was a little frightened by the level of emotion he felt around him. 'People like that get excited about something, they can kill. I've read about it.'
I laughed but he was serious.
He did enjoy the Sunday meal at Aunt Martha's.
We had one more fling in the sleeping bag and Freddy took it back to the barn.
Georgie and I sat in the half done new tree house and dangled our legs out over the stream. He seemed pensive, almost sad.
'I thought Harry and Michael had something great. You two, shit, you guys...'
'What?' I asked.
'I mean, you two are always leaning across each other or holding each other's arms, I mean, you're always touching each other. And the way you can talk and say anything and nobody gets mad. And you guys have twice, more, sex than Harry and Michael and I'm pretty sure Freddy's not, you know, like you.'
'Well, we like each other a lot.'
'Unh uh. You two really love each other more than anybody I've ever seen. You are really lucky. I wish I had something like what you guys have.'
'I wish my father understood that.'
'Fuck him.'
Freddy came bounding back and skipped gingerly across the rocks to our side of the stream. It was time to go. My grandfather would be waiting for us shortly at the path to the settlement.
We went back to grandfather's house and took a warm bath.
'Freddy suggested to Georgie, 'Last chance. Wanna go one mo' time?'
We did it doggie style. It took Georgie a lot longer than usual. I knew what he needed, something we hadn't done during his visit but that he loved. I hadn't been sure how he would feel about me sticking my tongue up his ass in front of Freddy.
'Let's rinse and dry and do it on the bed. We've got time.'
We ran naked down the hall and shut the door. I positioned Georgie on the bed for a blow job then slipped my mouth off his cock and down to his balls and perineum. Freddy lay beside me running his fingers between my ass cheeks.
Georgie resisted me lifting his legs. I pushed my tongue down between them and kept lifting. Gradually, he relaxed and let them go up and my mouth go down. I got over his anus and began flicking my tongue inside. Georgie lifted his legs with his hands then let go and pulled his cheeks apart. I pushed in hard as I could. Little by little, my tongue bored deeper, past his muscle to the soft flesh inside.
Freddy moved his leg across my body and pressed himself against me, humping gently into my side. His mouth came against my ear and whispered, 'Tha's what you wun't tell me. You fucked him, din't ya'.
I let go with one hand and pushed it over Freddy's mouth.
Georgie said, 'Shit.'
I began fucking him with my tongue. His hole had opened far wider than I remembered from camp.
Georgie repeated himself, 'Shit,' then slowly lowered his legs and sat up. 'It doesn't really matter with you guys and I heard Freddy so he knows. I gotta try it. Freddy, you wanna fuck me?'
Freddy smiled, looked at me for approval and took my shrug as a go ahead. 'How you wanna do it?'
Georgie got on his knees and buried his head in a pillow. Freddy looked at me expectantly. It took a moment for me to realize he wanted a lube job.
Georgie's back door was already covered with saliva. Freddy waddled up behind him, put his cock head at the opening and pushed slowly inside until he was flush against Georgie's buns, his charcoal black against Georgie's candle wax white. I thought about sucking on Georgie's rock hard erection but it would have been very awkward and probably dramatically shortened the pleasure I assumed he was experiencing.
Anyhow, it was the first time I'd ever seen Freddy fucking someone.
Freddy took hold of Georgie's hips and moved back and forth, gracefully like a slow dance. I got on my knees behind him, pulled us together and caressed his abdomen, watching over his shoulder at his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of Georgie. My stiff penis poked between his cheeks each time he withdrew. I held him tighter.
Freddy rammed in harder, pushing Georgie into the pillow with each thrust. He reached under for Georgie's cock. I could feel he was masturbating him from the muscle movement in his arm. He pushed in and held it, pulled out to the tip and thrust back in fast. I kissed his shoulder. He went in and out again.
Georgie's back arched and his thigh muscles flexed. Freddy's arm relaxed.
Freddy pulled slowly out, his shiny black peter popping up as the tip came free. Georgie rolled slowly over, one hand massaging his crotch.
After a couple of deep breaths, he commented, 'People are so stupid saying that is just for fags. Sorry, Malcolm. I'm not like that and, shit, it felt great.' He looked at me and volunteered, 'Want me to jerk you off?'
'Mmm hmm.'
I lay to his left. He leaned on his side and masturbated me to a quick resolution.
While Freddy waited with my grandmother so we wouldn't be seen together, my grandfather and I took Georgie to the station. The train arrived on time at seven forty-two. My grandfather left him with a conductor so he'd get off at the right place though I was sure Georgie didn't need help to do that. Georgie and I hugged and he was gone. When we got home, my grandfather called Georgie's mother so she'd know he was on his way.
Freddy was already under the covers when I got back. I jumped on top of him. 'Horny?'
He had a sheepish grin on his face. 'Don' you go sayin' nothin' but I gotta try it too.'
My dick had never come up faster than it did right then. Fredy wanted me to screw him. I whipped back the covers. He was nude and hard as a statue.
My shoe laces got tangled when I tried a quick pull to loose them. Each shirt and pants button seemed to get stuck.
'Get like Georgie was,' I told him. While I dripped spit into my hand and over my cock, he rolled over and stuck his rear into the air. I leaned over and ran my tongue across his pucker then poked at it.
'Quit playin' 'roun', Maacum, and do it.'
I crawled in on my knees, then, thinking of a better way, stood and lowered myself on flexed knees until I was aligned. I pushed the head down and poked my peter inside. Freddy's sphincter gripped it and sent a tingle through my middle. I pushed forward and slid in, the heat drifting up my shaft with his anus, warming me from cock head to gullet. Freddy reached back and pulled me tighter to him. I feared I wasn't long enough to reach his prostate so pulled back and rammed in hard, hoping I was at least tickling it. I quickly realized what I was doing would take me to my orgasm in seconds.
I remembered Jimmy's method and pushed in and moved up and down and side to side. It was nearly as exciting as outright fucking. I wished I was longer, could go in deeper. Over the next two years I knew I would be, and so would Freddy, certainly before me.
Freddy said, his voice muffled by the pillow, 'Keep doin' that.'
I was getting close and reached under to masturbate him. He pushed my hand away and motioned to wait with his hand. I had reached and passed the point of no return. The first pulse seemed to start inside my ass hole and raced up my perineum into my cock. I was suddenly weak and almost fell backward. Freddy pulled loose in the middle of my orgasm and pushed me down.
'Hurry up.'
He dribbled spit into his hand and quickly got on top of me, wet his cock, spread my cheeks with the fingers of one hand and aimed his cock with the other. He pushed deep inside of me, fucked a few times and grabbed my shoulders from behind as he came, shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
'I shoulda thought a that befo' Georgie left.'
'What?'
'Both sides at the same time.'
I smiled. Freddy had forgotten some of his inhibitions.
Monday morning, Freddy and I went to school via public transport. My mother picked up me and the others from our car pool after school. My father was at the house. He had taken the day off to change the screens to storm windows, something he normally had done by the first week of October. He wanted me to take them down to the barn once he put them on the ground. There were already quite a few leaning against hedges around the house. By five thirty, we were done. He said, 'Thanks.' I couldn't remember him saying that to me before. Was a change taking place' Maybe my mother was pressuring him to be a father rather than a tyrant. I wasn't very hopeful, certainly not trusting.
A aced the pre-Christmas exams, hundreds across the board. It should be pointed out that five others did the same. No one failed. Sister Mary What I Mean To Say, as Francis still called her, apparently was concerned about her place in the books so gave us exams that most fourth graders could have passed. Nine of us out of twenty-eight got First Honors cards. I didn't mention that to my parents.
Mother told me that my father's vacation plans for the holidays had to be put on hold due to a large contract his company had taken on in mid December. I'd had hopes they'd go off leaving me with my grandparents. Still, it didn't seem all that bad. My father would be at his office far more than at home, allowing me ample opportunity to be with Freddy even if just in the barn.
We had half a day at school the Friday before Christmas. I convinced mother to let me walk home and arrive at three thirty. Janet, the maid wouldn't know the difference. We had one of those pick a name out of the hat gift givings that morning. I drew Paul Simpson's name and gave him the wallet my mother had bought earlier in the week. Jimmy Smith gave me a pen and mechanical pencil set. We weren't very creative gift givers.
Francis disappeared before I could wish him a Merry Christmas and invite him over during the two week vacation. Realizing others were sneaking away, I took off and was at Freddy's by eleven. He didn't get home until three. I spent four hours helping make Christmas decorations out of tin cans and colored paper. Freddy and I walked up to my property. He went into the barn and I went in to drop off my things and change clothes. Janet asked where I'd been.
'With the kids from my school, where else.'
'I seen a bunch of 'em headed home at eleven thirty when I went to the Acme.'
'So?'
She shook her head and went back to washing the stove.
When I walked out toward the pantry, she asked, 'Where you going now?'
'Outside, what's it to you?'
'You know.'
'What do I know?'
'Don't get smart with me, boy.'
I pulled my cap down over my ears, walked out and looked for something I could do that looked like work. It was getting really cold. I knew Freddy was inside the warm sleeping bag waiting for me.
Everything was fairly orderly and clean thanks to the work I'd done over the past months. There was nothing to rake or sweep or pick up. I knew Janet was watching so I had to do something quick. But there was nothing. I went back inside and down to the basement, opened the door from the utility room to the outside, raced around the front of the house, through the tall hedge between our property and the next, and down toward the barn. There was a section of relatively open hedge across from the kitchen window. If Janet were at the sink, she could see me pass by. I crawled slowly, watching but didn't see her. Once past the opening, I ran again and cut back through the hedge behind the barn. Freddy was at the pig sty door.
'Wheah you been?'
'Janet's watching me.'
We rushed up to the barn's second floor and crawled fully clothed into the sleeping bag. Freddy and I discussed plans for the holidays now that the situation had so dramatically changed from the anticipated freedom I'd have had if my parents had gone away as usual.
'Why's that woman wanna watch you. Ain' none a her business.'
'She's a snitch bitch.'
Freddy had a suggestion, 'Why don' you go ta Georgie's fo' a few days, like las' time.'
I promised to call him that evening. It was the only plan that gave me any freedom at all. I'd asked Francis about supposedly going to his house but he assured me his parents would never lie to protect me. There wasn't anyone else.
Georgie was with his father and would be until the weekend after Christmas. That left a glimmer of hope for New Year's Eve at Freddy's.
Every time I walked any where near Janet, she wanted to know where I'd been and where I was going. I refused to answer until my father informed me at dinner on Saturday that I was to answer her every question as she was reporting directly to him. So much for the potential change of attitude!
By Christmas Day, I was in a very sour mood. Sunday, my father worked in his basement shop repairing two sections of dining room table extension he planned to use Christmas Day. I had to sand and polish most of the day. Monday, Christmas Eve, Janet was watching my every move. She left at three, minutes before my father arrived. I hadn't seen Freddy since Friday afternoon and that had been brief.
I received a bicycle as my main gift.
'So where am I supposed to ride this thing?' I asked.
'Anywhere you want on the property,' replied my father with a shitty smile.
I went to my room to listen to the radio.
My grandparents came with gifts including a forty-five rpm RCA record player and half a dozen records. They came to my room.
'Did you see what he gave me?' I asked close to tears.
My grandfather sat on the bed and put his arm around me. 'We really tried to have you over for a few days but you've been with us quite a bit recently so, well, we're not much good to you now.'
I hugged them both and told them I loved them. We played the records, Spike Jones 'All I want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth', Arthur Godfrey's 'She's Too Fat', and others. I told them to tell my mother my stomach hurt and that I'd eat later. She came up to try to convince me to come down but I knew that being near my father the way I felt was explosive.
My aunt brought me a Monopoly game. I played it with my cousins until they had to leave.
Mother brought me cold turkey and dressing but warmed up the mashed potatoes and succotash. I could only bring myself to eat half but I did finish off the two pieces of pumpkin pie.
Anger was making my exercises easier and more stimulating.
Wednesday, Janet was back, even checking every so often to see if I was in my room. Thursday, my mother took Janet on a shopping trip downtown to help with some returns.
'There's lunch in the refrigerator, dear. We'll be back by three.'
It was barely ten thirty. I had four and a half hours. The moment she drove out of the driveway, I ran all the way to Freddy's house.
Warming up beside the wood burning stove, Freddy had an idea. 'Why don't chu make it like that white maid is a thief. Take sumthin' a yo' fatha's and put it in her purse o sumthin'. Mebbe he'll put that bitch in jail.'
Once warm, we headed to the barn and entered with my duplicate key. Upstairs, we stripped naked inside the sleeping bag, putting our clothes over the outside to keep us warm inside. Freddy cuddled up behind me with his hard on between my cheeks but not inside. We talked about each other's Christmas and how lonely it had been without one another. We looked at the future when I would no longer be under my father's control.
'Sometimes, I think I just wanna kill the son-of-a-bitch.'
'Well, you jes' git that shit outta yo' head, Maacum, 'cause theyïll lock you up and we'll never see each'n other.'
I reached back and pulled on his rear. 'Fuck me, Freddy. I don't know when we'll be able to do it again.'
He wet himself and pushed in. I caressed his head and kissed his cheek.
I was back in my room by three. Mother drove in twenty minutes later. I waited until she came to my room to hug her and say thank you. No use giving Janet any ideas.
I called Georgie Thursday night. His mother told me he was going to spend New Year's Eve with a couple of school mates and to call on Wednesday. That would be too late.
I stopped using the front stairs to avoid walking past the living room and seeing that bicycle parked by the rear entry. I was sure it had been given me as a symbol of my prisoner status, a victory prize for my father's win over me. He probably believed I hadn't seen Freddy for months if not longer. If he thought that bicycle made me feel defeated, under his heel, he was wrong. It only stoked a fire of rebellion building inside me, a fire that had to engulf us all.
His arrogance brought it to a head.
Friday at dinner, mother made one of my favorite foods, tuna casserole. My father was telling mother, and indirectly me, of his lucrative contract to design a new kind of tank tread for the army. I ate as quickly as I could to escape his hated voice. There was silence for a few moments.
He asked me, 'When are you going to try out your new bike' It's not that cold outside.'
I pretended to be eating. He waited.
'Well, it's a darn good bike. You do know how to ride a bike?'
'Dear,' interrupted mother, 'let him finish eating.'
He ignored her. 'Malcolm, I'm talking to you. Now I bought you a very nice bicycle. Don't you like it?'
'No.'
He acted surprised. 'Why not?'
'Where am I supposed to ride it?'
'There's plenty of places to ride it right here.'
I felt the explosion coming. Why was he doing this' I had to get away. 'I better go to my room.'
I got up and headed around the table toward the door.
He stood and blocked my way. 'Sit down, boy.'
'Leave me alone. I don't want any problems. I just want to go to my room, sir.'
He sat down. I started to pass.
'Probably should have given you a doll,' he muttered.
'Fuck you,' I muttered back.
He leapt up and smacked me hard on the back of the head, knocking me across the front hall onto the floor by the fireplace. In front of me was an iron poker in its stand. Completely under the control of the fire in my gut, I grabbed it. Murder was my goal. I turned and ran at him, the poker in both hands, out in front of me like a spear. For a moment, he stood defiantly, daring me to attack him. It was a mistake. By the time he realized the seriousness of my intent, I was only a couple of feet away. Mother screamed, 'Malcolm! No!'
My father turned back and away. The poker scraped across his chest, ripping his shirt open, leaving a trail of blood.
My impetus carried me past him and into a chair. I tumbled over it, losing the poker and taking the chair down with me. I jumped up and charged him with the chair. He underestimated my strength and tried to stop me with his hands. I slammed him into the sideboard behind him. He grunted in pain. I turned to find the poker. He grabbed me from behind by the hair and yanked back. Mother continued to scream. The poker was under my feet. I jammed my elbow back where I thought his balls would be but only got his thigh. He pushed me down on the floor, on top of the poker. I pulled it from under me and tried to turn and swing it at him. His foot came down hard on my back. I groaned but kept trying to turn over. The poker was snatched out of my hand. I grabbed at his leg. He took my one hand then the other from behind. I pulled the first one loose and kicked up at him, connecting with something that made him back off just a little, enough for me to roll free even though he still had my left hand. I jumped up and snatched up a glass on the table and threw it at his face. He blocked it with his hand but it hurt him. I got hold of a silver candle stick and hit the arm that was holding my hand. He hit me open handed on the side of the head. Everything went blank until I felt him kick me in the leg and heard my mother screaming, 'Stop it! Stop it!'
I felt her stepping over me as she pushed him back. I sat up but fell over backwards. I wasn't sure where I was. I saw mother's dress and her legs a few feet away and moving. Sounds became words.
'not my son, your son. I sure as hell didn't father that.'
Things jelled, came back. I pulled myself up. I hurt everywhere. The poker, where was the poker. Fuck the poker. There were knives in the kitchen. I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest one. I was going to finish him, be rid of the son-of-a-bitch once and for all. Let them lock me up. Fuck them all!
I got to the middle of the dining room. Mother had my father in the front hall. She was standing up to him, telling him that this was the end. He'd gone too far.
I thought of Freddy. I needed Freddy. He'd know what to do. He'd said not to kill the son-of-a-bitch. I'd never see Freddy again. I dropped the knife. I wanted to go to Freddy's. My mother and father were shouting at each other. The words 'homosexual' and 'nigger' registered. I had to get away from this place, from him. Fear wasn't the driving force then. It was escape, a prisoner wanting out of prison. I turned back toward the kitchen. My back and leg and head hurt. I walked to the pantry and down the stairs. There were coats on the hooks beside the door. It was cold outside. I'd need a coat. I took one. It was too big. I dropped it down the basement stairs and grabbed the second. It was mine. I opened the door and walked out into the dark. The cold air hit me. I put on the coat and pulled it tightly around me. I headed down the lawn. The back porch light came on. Mother came running out the back door and down to me.
'Malcolm, where are you going' Are you okay' Come with me. We're going to your grandfather's house.'
'I'm going to Freddy's.' I pulled loose and kept walking.
My father called from the back porch. 'Do you see what I'm talking about' He prefers that nigger to us. Let him go.'
'Shut up, Henry!' shouted my mother and walked beside me.
'Malcolm, dear, you can go to Freddy's tomorrow. Right now, I want to get you, us, to your grandfather's where you'll be safe. Please.'
'Please, I wanna go to Freddy's now.' I looked back toward the rear porch where my father stood leaning out over the railing, his torn shirt and bloody chest open to the cold air. I'd really hurt him. He was nothing special, nothing to be feared.
Mother knelt in front of me. 'Malcolm, dear, we're going to live with your grandfather for a while. You can visit Freddy whenever you want but we need to go there first. See, I have the car keys.'
'I don't wanna go back inside.'
'No, dear, we're going to get in the car and go. I'm not even going to get my coat. We're not going back inside.'
'Can we go get Freddy?'
She looked me in the eyes. 'Yes, we can go get Freddy, but now I have to get my coat.'
'Okay.'
We walked back up to the walk. I stared defiantly at my father who looked like he could rip the railing off the porch. She opened the door to the passenger side, helped me in and closed the door. She rushed up on the front porch and inside, returning in seconds putting on a coat as she came. My father didn't appear as we backed out. Mother drove to the path to Freddy's settlement. She brought a flashlight from the car. I was really starting to hurt, especially my back. Aunt Martha wasn't there.
Freddy started to cry when he saw I was in pain. 'He hurt you again, oh, Maacum.' He hugged me and led me to his bed where he lay me down. He told Missy, his oldest little sister, to 'go see who got some ice'.
Missy ran off. He lay beside me and hugged me. I wanted to hold him too but lifting my arm hurt my back too much.
'Don' go back theah no mo'. Stay heah.' Freddy looked at my mother who was sitting in a chair by the door. 'Let him stay heah. We can take care a him. Oh, Maacum, what he do to you this time?'
Freddy's aunt came in with some ice and pushed Freddy out of the way. 'Wheah you hurtin', sugah' Somebody pull that light ovah heah so's I can see.'
Brenda, who had come in behind her, pulled the string attached to the chain switch on the light hanging from the ceiling and swung it closer to us. Freddy's aunt looked at my head. 'Honey, I don't see nothin'. You gotta tell me wheah you hurts.'
'My back.'
'Can you roll ovah' Wait, we gotta git this coat offa you first.'
She lifted me up with Brenda and Freddy's help and took off the coat. Raising my arms was very painful. She laid me back on my stomach and lifted up my shirt. 'Sweet Jesus! Look what he done to you heah. Gimme that ice.'
Mother came over and watched them rub ice over a pair of large bruises. Freddy's aunt said, 'I think you oughta git this chile to a hospital ta see if anything's broke.'
Mother told them she would and that afterward, we were going to stay with my grandfather. No one thought I should ever go back with my father.
I insisted Freddy go with me.
Freddy said, 'Don' you worry none 'bout that. I'm goin' with you. Can't nobody stop me.'
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
