Chapters 24 to 26

Chapter 24

Billy stood at the end of the hospital hallway, near the stairwell, pretending to read the instructions on the fire extinguisher. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Dr. Chow conferred in hushed tones with his parents. They were standing outside of Justine’s room. His parents were still in their work clothes, but they were disheveled. His mother stood very erect, clutching her purse, but his father was propped up against the doorway like a paper sack. Dr. Chow, of course, was all composed and professional. The crease in his pants was perfect. His peach shirt was starched and a brown silk tie with some kind of cross-hatched pattern in light gold pointed in a clear straight line to his belt buckle.

Billy thought his bearing was totally inappropriate. Dr. Chow was a psychiatrist, right? Justine was his patient. Shouldn’t he have known what was coming? Shouldn’t he feel some remorse, or maybe even a trace of inadequacy or incompetence? Instead, he spoke in soft, reassuring tones while making very controlled and precise gestures. Billy thought it was obscene, but his parents only nodded.

Billy had not been allowed in the room with them when Dr. Chow came to visit, and that really pissed him off. The one time he actually wanted to be included in this family therapy thing and they had sent him out of the room like he was a little kid. He had come to the end of the hall to sulk, but now his curiosity was getting the better of him so he edged his way within listening distance. He stood about ten feet away, running his finger up and down a crease in the wallpaper that covered the top half of the hallway wall, and feigned disinterest.

“I don’t know how she found those pills,” said Carol. “They were in a hidden compartment in the bottom of my jewelry box, under all my necklaces. I purposefully didn’t leave them in the medicine cabinet. I didn’t think that would be safe, but I never thought she’d try to kill herself.”

On the last two words she had a mini-convulsion. She looked away, pressing her handkerchief into the bridge of her nose and hugging her purse to her body. Frank placed his arm on her shoulder but it had no effect.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “If she was determined to find a way to do this, she would.”

She turned almost as if to attack. “But why Frank? Why would she do such a thing? Why would she have no hope?”

“Sometimes, Mrs. Rogers,” started Dr. Chow.

“It was that medication,” interrupted Carol. “She didn’t want that medication in the first place. This is all my fault.”

“Your husband is correct, Mrs. Rogers,” said Dr. Chow. “You should not be blaming yourself.”

Carol raised herself up to her full height of barely over five feet. “Well if it is not her mother’s fault that whose is it?”

Dr. Chow put his hands together as if he were praying. He looked directly into Carol’s defiant gaze. “It doesn’t have to be anyone’s fault, Mrs. Rogers. It is natural to feel that way. This is a very difficult situation.”

“Situation?” asked Carol, raising her voice.

Frank turned back towards the room to make sure Justine was still asleep. They had sedated her, of all things, which seemed to make no sense to him after they had to pump the sedatives out of her stomach.

Dr. Chow unclasped his hands and now held them open, thumbs together. It reminded Billy of a football player preparing to catch a pass.

“It is a difficult time,” said Dr. Chow. “But Justine is resting comfortably now, and when we all have time to digest this and talk things through, I am confident that we will be able to help her.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re confident,” said Carol, putting her handkerchief back in her purse and snapping it shut. She was no longer looking at him.

“Carol, honey,” said Frank, trying to be reassuring.

“What, Frank, what?” asked Carol, impatiently. Now she had the strap of the pocketbook over her shoulder and was staring off in the direction of the nurses’ station. Frank turned his attention to Dr. Chow. “We need some time to get our bearings,” he said.
“Exactly,” replied Dr. Chow. “Call my office tomorrow and schedule an appointment, won’t you? And please, if you want to speak with me before then call my direct number any time of the day or night. If I don’t answer, you’ll get my service. They know where to find me.”

“Yes, Doctor, we’ll do that,” said Frank.

Dr. Chow shook Frank’s hand. He gave Billy a quick nod and headed down the hallway in the direction of the elevators. ‘Even the sound of his heels on the floor is annoying,’ thought Billy.

Billy and his parents stood in a little circle for a few seconds.

‘They look old,’ thought Billy. ‘It’s not fair that they have to deal with Justine. It’s not their fault. She’s unbalanced.’

“She’ll be all right, mom,” he said out loud.

Carol came towards him and stroked his hair with her fingers. “You did great, sweetie. You saved her life.”

Billy caught sight of a nurse coming down the hall and gently pulled away. The last thing he wanted was for people to see his mother fussing over him in public.

“You don’t have to keep saying that, Mom. I didn’t do that much.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Without you…” She stifled a sob.

An orderly followed the nurse with an empty stretcher, and the Rogers family moved to the side to let them pass. From the other direction a maintenance man with a belt of tools slung low like a holster clanked his way down the hall.

“I think we’re in the way,” said Frank. “Maybe we should get going. There’s nothing else we can do here, anyway.”

Carol removed a piece of loose thread from her dress. “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you boys grab some dinner. It must be late. Oh my Lord,” she said, checking her watch. “It’s after 9:00. You must be starving. I’ll stay here with Justine. You two go eat.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Frank. “She’s asleep now. She won’t wake up for hours. You must be hungry, too. Come on. We’ll go out and have a nice quiet dinner. Just the three of us.”

“Oh, please. I couldn’t eat a bite. I’ll get a Coke and something from the vending machine and…”

“Carol, what are you going to do – “

“Frank, please,” she said sternly. “I need to be here and you need your rest. Take Billy to get something to eat and leave me with Justine. I’ll be fine.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Really.”

Frank considered saying something else but then relented.

“Well, call me later, OK? I can’t call you here. They won’t accept calls after 9:00, remember?” The vision of Frank lying in intensive care hung in the area between them like a ghost, but only for a moment.

“I’m going to stay all night,” said Carol. “The nurse said she could put a cot in the room. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”

Billy thought his Dad seemed hurt. He had never seen his parents so ill at ease with one another. It reminded him of being at a middle school dance. His father stretched his back and then cleared his throat, fumbling for an exit line. All he could manage was, “Well, then good night.”

Carol went into Justine’s room. Frank pulled free his already loosened tie and rubbed the back of his neck. He forced a weak smile. “I guess that leaves you and me, Billy-boy,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I suppose I could eat.” Suddenly he was starving.
“Let’s go to that diner on Route 12. Your mother hates that place. We never get to go there.”

“Isn’t the food there really greasy?” said Billy, as they started down the hall.

“You don’t like grease?”

“I mean your heart.”

Frank’s face gave up its attempt at cheerfulness. He shoved his tie into the pocket of his sports jacket, and breathed through his teeth. “You let me worry about that.”

“OK”

Wearily, and in silence, they made their way through the hospital and to their car, which was parked out by the emergency room. The area by the emergency room entrance was lit up almost as bright as day, but with that false, too white light that they have in baseball stadiums.

“You drive, Billy,” said his Dad, handing him the keys.

They got in the Buick Wildcat and Billy slid his hands over the steering wheel. Normally, he would’ve been thrilled. He slipped the key in the ignition and started the engine. His father was slumped in the seat next to him. His eyes were closed and his head was resting against the window. He had his knees pulled together and his feet were tucked in under the front seat. Billy was surprised at how slender and frail his father’s legs were, how small his ribcage was before his torso ballooned slightly at the stomach. It wouldn’t take much to crush that chest. To stop that heart. His father opened his eyes. “Are you going to pull out?” he asked.
“Yeah.”

“OK, then.” He closed his eyes again. “Let’s go eat.”

Billy couldn’t tell if his father was sleeping or only feigning sleep to avoid a conversation. He pulled out of the parking more tentatively than usual. He was always a tad nervous driving when his parents were in the car. He could never shake free the feeling that they were evaluating him.

There was a red light at the corner, and while they were stopped Billy counted out the floors on the hospital until he got to the sixth, where Justine and his mother were. They were in the room next to the corner, so it was easy to find. One little rectangle of light in that big grid. Would it really, truly have been worse – he meant in the long run – if Justine had died? One time he had overheard his parents discussing the same thing when Justine had made a previous but very half-hearted attempt on her life. She had cut her wrist with a steak knife but barely drew enough blood to stain a band-aid.

“She is so sad, Frank. It comes out in anger -- sometimes ugly anger -- but she is so sad. It kills me.”

“God forgive me, but sometimes I think –“

“Don’t say that, Frank!” she snapped in horror.

“You never think that?”

“Of course, I think it. But tell me honestly, could you go on living if she did?”

Frank had answered so softly that Billy had needed to strain to hear.

“No,” he said. “No, I couldn’t.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Carol sobbed. “I try so hard, but I can’t help her and then I scream at her, and…”

“Carol, don’t beat yourself up. You’re a great mother. Justine is just…It’s not our fault. It’s just something we have to live with. We just do our best and …”

“And what?”

In Billy’s mind, he could see Carol sitting silently next to Justine’s hospital room, maybe brushing some of that wild hair out of her face. Up in that little corner of the building, in that grid.

“Hey, Billy!” said his Dad. “It’s a green light.”

“Right.”

He drove off to the diner, as his father leaned back against the window and closed his eyes.







Chapter 25

It was the last Saturday of the summer. Labor Day weekend. Billy and his friends descended on the park as the sun was reaching its zenith to begin the final blowouts before the school year began. A small group was busy decorating one of the semi-enclosed picnic areas with ribbons and banners. There were eight picnic tables on a dirt floor, covered by a roof. Three sides were open to the park, the fourth was taken up by a log cabin-style building that had restrooms and a locked storage room used by the park department. Kyle had actually had the foresight to reserve it.

The kids lugged coolers of food and drink and set up the all-important stereo. There was an outlet so they didn’t have to rely on the usual boomboxes, several of which sat silent against the wall. There were a few cars parked by the side of the road with their trunks open and crammed with party supplies.

When the stereo came to life, Kerry put on the soundtrack to Hair and a few of the girls danced out in the sun. They swayed and rolled their heads, their arms reaching towards the sky with long, fluid movements. Their Indian print skirts gave a tease as to the legs beneath. Kerry wore a brightly colored tie-dyed shirt that looked like it had a bulls-eye on her chest.

“What is this?” asked Billy. “Retro-sixties or something?”

“It’s a Grok, man. Read the sign,” said Rooster, in between blowing up some balloons. He pointed at a banner that was hanging at an odd angle from the roof of the picnic area.

“You mean, like, Heinlein?” asked Billy.

“Yeah,” said Rooster, speaking with a long green half-blown up balloon clenched in his teeth. He took it out of his mouth, letting the air out of it. He pointed at Margaret who was standing with them, drinking a beer that was disguised as a Coke. “See, I told you. Billy gets it,” he said.

“Only boys read science fiction,” said Margaret. She took a swig out of her Coke can. “Not very many people know what a Grok is.”

“It’s the ultimate be-in, man” said Rooster.

“Yeah, like I said, it’s retro-sixties. Tell me,” inquired Billy, “Where’s the LSD?”

“Electric Kool-Aid is in the purple cooler,” said Rooster. He tossed a balloon at Billy and blew him a raspberry.

“I was kidding,” said Billy, swatting the balloon back at Rooster.

“Suit yourself,” said Rooster.

“So Billy,” said Margaret, coming towards him. She put her hand on his shoulder and gestured towards the other side of the picnic tables. “There’s somebody waiting for you. You were meeting her here, remember?”

At the base of the tree was Shari. She was sitting cross-legged on one of the roots, listening to Kyle who was gesticulating in a lively manner. Shari laughed. Her hair was wrapped into one long braid that hung down her neck. It reminded Billy of a rope, a rope he wouldn’t mind climbing.

“Don’t’ stand there with your mouth hanging open,” said Margaret. She gave him a little push with her fingertips.

Shari noticed him coming when he was halfway to her, and leapt up to greet him. Kyle stopped talking and watched as they ran to each other and embraced. Shari squeezed him tightly, almost to the point of taking his breath away. He was surprised at her strength. They rocked a little, swaying from one foot to the next in time with the music that was still blaring from the speakers in the picnic area.

“God, I’ve wanted to see you,” said Shari.

“Same here,” said Billy. He dug his face into her hair. She kissed his ear.

They had spoken for hours the night before. Shari had called him the moment she got home from vacation. He spilled his guts to her – the fear, the anger, the sadness, the confusion and the self-doubt. Everything that was in him. He had never spoken to anyone like that before. At first, while he was doing it, he had been afraid that maybe she’d think he was totally messed up, some kind of whining, needy creep, but she hadn’t. And as Shari commiserated with him, he had unleashed more and more of himself until he felt like he had dragged himself free of some sort of emotional rip-tide and was now wading, heavy-legged towards shore.

The next morning with his parents -- all of them sitting sullen and silent around the breakfast table -- had already started pulling him back down. He stared at Justine’s empty seat and wished somebody would say something. Finally, he had asked what they served for breakfast at the mental hospital, but his father had said, “Oh, I don’t know. Eggs Benedict?” And that had been the end of that conversation.

Seeing Shari, though, amidst the music and the celebration of the Grok made him start forgetting all that.

“You look great,” said Billy.

“You’re not so bad,” said Shari. She released him from her grasp and took him by the hand. They slowly meandered around the perimeter of the party. Shari occasionally rested her head on his shoulder. The weight of it felt exquisite.

“I can’t believe how strong you are,” she said.

“What!?” Billy stopped in his tracks and laughed. “Boy, that’s not how I feel!”

“What are you talking about? With all you’ve gone through this summer?”

“Well, it’s only beginning. Once Justine gets out of the hospital and comes to the high school…” His voice trailed off.

“We’ll look out for her,” said Shari.

An errant frisbee landed at their feet. Shari picked it up and tossed it back.

“I don’t know,” said Billy.

“You don’t know what?” asked Shari.

They were almost out of earshot of the music. Billy observed the preparations for the Grok with an air of semi-detachment. The gang was lost in their revelry. They were like a huge, amorphous life form that pulsated with energy. Like one of those amoebas they learned about in biology class. Filled with proteins, enzymes, excretions and goo. A sack of stuff that somehow kept its balance. That somehow worked. And he was integral to it, but superfluous, too. He knew it would go on without him. The gang meant everything to him but in a year it would simply dissipate. And he worried about the virus Justine, and how she would infect it, at least for him.

“It’s not that easy,” said Billy. “Justine’s not that easy to look out for. Believe me.”

“I know. But we’re seniors, man,” she said, taking on the mock inflections of a jock or a cheerleader. “We rule!”

Rooster shut the music off and jumped on top of a tree stump, blowing a kazoo. “Hear ye! Hear ye!” he shouted. “Let the Grok begin!”

The kids, including Billy and Shari, surrounded the stump. There were nearly a hundred of them. They were abuzz in anticipation.

“Hold hands in a circle,” said Rooster.

“Like the hokey-pokey?” asked Margaret.

“Shhh,” said Kyle. “Don’t ruin the karma.”

“Please,” said Margaret, but she joined hands and looked up at Rooster, who came off the stump and entered the circle. He motioned to Joel who was standing by the stereo. Joel pressed the play button and hurried to his place. The music started, as the kids recognized the tune, they smiled and joined in.

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be

“Oh, wow,” groaned Billy. “This is too sixties.”

“Shut up and be, Rogers!” said Shari, knocking into him with her hip.

And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Whispering words of wisdom
Let it be

They broke out in song, shouting at the top of their lungs, their heads tilted back and gazing at a perfectly clear, blue sky.

Let it be!
Let it be!
Let it be, oh, let it be!
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be!

The afternoon was glorious. After spirited games of ultimate and hours of dancing they devoured pre-made bologna and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, bushels of fruit, mounds of twinkies, and bag after bag of potato chips. Exhausted and satiated they lounged in small groups as an album by Crosby, Stills, and Nash poured out its rich harmonies.

“Mellow music,” said Kyle. “Excellent choice.”

Kerry lay with her head in Rooster’s lap. Billy and Shari sat side by side. Margaret was playing cat’s cradle with Susan, while Joel was unsuccessfully trying to show off tricks with his new Duncan Yo-Yo.

“Needs practice, man,” said Kyle.

“This day was the best,” said Billy.

“Hear, hear,” said Kyle.

“And now for the piece de resistance!” said Rooster.

“What?” asked Billy.

“Well, while you were engaged with arguably more pressing matters,” he began.

“Arguably?” asked Margaret.

Rooster ignored her.

“We have decided upon our legacy.”

Billy perked up. He hadn’t expected anything to come from that. He thought it was the usual verbal game play they engaged in. He still wasn’t convinced that anything was actually going to happen.

“Yes, yes,” said Rooster, seeing Billy’s incredulity.

“Rephrase that,” said Kyle. “It is only the first step. But the first step is important. It sets the tone for the entire year.”

“Exactamundo!” said Rooster. “Therefore, our first gift…”

“Prank,” interjected Margaret.

“Gift,” repeated Rooster, “must be done on Monday night – Labor Day – so that the returning students appreciate this year’s senior freaks.”

“Why can’t I come?” asked Joel. “I’m only a sophomore but I can help.”

“You can be a lookout,” said Kyle, who was stretched out on his back on the grass. He pointed a finger at him. “But only seniors on the dome.”

“That’s cool,” said Joel. He botched a trick and tried to untangle his fingers from the yo-yo string.

“So what is it?” asked Billy, impatiently. “What’s it going to be?”

“We’ll meet in the woods behind the high school at midnight. Wear dark clothes and be ready. Assignments will be given then.”

Billy got up and stood over Kyle. “You are not going to keep me dangling,” he said. “What’s the plan?”

“Wouldn’t it be more fun not to know?” asked Kyle facetiously.

Billy placed his foot on Kyle’s chest, but applied no pressure.

“I take it this is some form of coercion,” said Kyle.

“I’m shocked. Simply shocked,” said Rooster.

Billy starting pressing down hard enough to be felt but not enough to hurt. “I’m serious,” he said, with his hands on his hips.

“Fine! I give up!” laughed Kyle.

Billy removed his foot, and Kyle sat up. The rest of the kids stopped what they were doing and gave him their full attention. “OK, then,” said Kyle. “Listen up.”




Chapter 26

That evening Shari and Billy found themselves walking the streets of Fairfield again. When it started getting dark the gang had loaded everything up, and those with cars drove off. Billy and Shari had gotten a ride with Kyle up to the Central Ave. Burger King and grabbed a bite with some other kids, but then had slipped away when the conversation had turned to a heated debate over whether Star Wars or 2001 was the ultimate science fiction movie.

“I wish we had some place to go,” said Billy.

“Some place private you mean?” asked Shari.

“Yeah.”

“So you could jump my bones?” she asked, her eyes all wide and innocent looking.

“No,” he shot back reflexively, and then blushed. “Well, yes, I guess.”

“I suppose your parents are home?” she asked.

“As always.”

“Mine, too.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and she hooked her thumb in his back pocket. A piece of wax paper blew by in the breeze, and a little kid came toddling after it with a bright pink ice cream cone, half of which seemed to have been smeared across her face. Her older sister scurried after her and grabbed her hand, scolded her gently and led her back to their family who were camped out on the benches in front of the ice cream parlor.

“So where are we going to go?” asked Billy. “The park?”

“Nah, I can’t go to the park again.”

A horn blasted and they turned to see Kyle driving down Central Ave. Rooster was hanging out of the passenger seat window. Someone in the back mooned them.

“Where the hell can we go?” moaned Billy.

“I know,” said Shari. “Isn’t that the number 14 bus? We can take it to downtown Pohasset.”

“Pohasset?” asked Billy. “What is in Pohasset?”

“Nobody we know,” said Shari.

“I’ll race you to the bus stop.”

They ran to the corner and darted across the street. The bus was a stopped a block away and the last person was boarding -- an older man with a cane, holding some sort of package. Shari let out a yelp of despair.

“I’ll hold it for you,” yelled Billy and started pumping his legs hard, arriving at the bus as the doors were about to close. “Can you wait a minute?” he asked in between pants. The bus driver merely looked at him with tired eyes and said, “A half a minute.” Just then Shari grabbed Billy by the arm, yanked him out of her way, and leapt on to the bus.

“Come on, Rogers,” she said, trying to hide how out of breath she was. “The bus doesn’t have all day.” She deposited some coins in the fare box.

“You son of a …” said Billy, laughing and jumped up beside her. The driver closed the door with a sigh, said, “Sit down” and pulled out into traffic, shaking his head.

Billy followed Shari down the aisle and the two of them commandeered the back seat. He immediately put his arms around her and started kissing her neck.

“Not here,” she said, pushing him away. “Save that stuff for Pohasset.”

It was then Billy noticed several sets of eyes upon them, and turned his customary crimson red. The old man with the package gave him a disdainful sneer and then repositioned himself so he could stare out the window.

“Where are we going to go once we get there? There’s no place private there,” whispered Billy.

“Is that all you think about, Rogers?” laughed Shari. She looked down her nose at him trying to appear haughty.

“You big tease,” said Billy.

Her demeanor quickly turned serious. “Don’t call me a tease. That’s like one of the worst things you can say to a girl. Talk about spoiling the mood.”

“What?” asked Billy. He was totally confused. Hadn’t they just been playing?

“Never mind.” Shari turned her attention to the traffic moving beneath them out of window. Somehow the mood had been broken.

“Did I say something wrong?” asked Billy. “I thought we were just… I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

She let him suffer for a couple of seconds and then said, “Forget it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said forget it.”

When they got to the courthouse in Pohasset, Shari said, “Let’s get off here” and they exited the bus. Although not as happy as before his faux pas, she didn’t seem to be upset anymore so Billy thought it was best to ignore their moment of tension, carefully filing away a “do not say tease” rule into his long-term memory.

The courthouse was an old building with lots of granite and two impressive columns in the front. It was all lit up at night, but it was basically deserted. Another couple walked arm in arm down the street and a homeless guy sat on a bench wearing a couple of coats and nursing a whiskey bottle half hidden by a paper bag. Billy and Shari started down a path that cut through the courthouse grounds.

“So how’s Justine doing?” asked Shari.

Billy immediately felt the tension enter his chest. It was like cold streaks in his lungs. He put his head back and looked up at the sky. The moon was nearly full and it was partially obscured by some deep purple clouds. Almost like a postcard.

“Huh?” asked Shari.

“Oh, I don’t know. How is Justine ever, really? I don’t understand her. But I guess she’s doing better. She’s a lot calmer, I suppose. But that’s probably the medication.”

“You never told me what it was like to find her.”

Billy stopped walking. They were on the side of the courthouse now, under some elm trees that were dying of some disease. He bent down and plucked a lone dandelion from the lawn and started pulling out its petals, staining his fingers yellow. Shari waited patiently.

“Have you ever seen a dead person?” he asked.

“My grandmother. At her funeral. She was lying in her casket in this silver dress.”

“Didn’t it freak you out to see her?”

“It was sad, but it was peaceful.”

“But you weren’t freaked out?”

“What do you mean? I knew she was dead.”

Billy flung the dandelion down in exasperation, and tugged at his hair. “But she used to be alive and now she wasn’t,” he said. “She had thoughts and feelings. She had, well, I mean she had …an existence. And then you saw her in this coffin and she was just a lump of flesh.” His eyes were wide now and he was trying to hold off his panic. He had an almost pleading expression on his face.

“She wasn’t just a lump of flesh,” said Shari. “She was alive in our memories. In what she did in life.”

“Oh, come on!” said Billy, annoyed. “Do you really mean that? Do you really believe that?”

Shari was a little taken aback at the vehemence of his response.

“People always say that,” continued Billy. “But they are still talking about the living. Yeah, she had an effect on you, on the world even, but as far as she is concerned – her own mind – well, that’s gone.”

“But everybody dies,” said Shari.

“I know,” said Billy, “And that’s what terrifies me.”

“So when you saw Justine…”

“I’m afraid to die. I can get into a panic about it whenever I think about it. Most of the time I repress it. We all do, don’t we? But when I saw my dad in the hospital or Justine on the floor like she was already dead … How can I repress it then? I know I’m a lout. I mean, they were the ones in pain and in danger and here I am thinking about myself. I hate myself when I do that, but this fear thing is so big."

He couldn’t meet her gaze. He was so embarrassed. His secret was out. He was a pig and a scaredy cat. But how could they all deny the enormity of it? Maybe he was the only sane one.

“Why do you hate yourself? To live with that kind of fear? I mean, I think it’s kind of brave, in a way.”

“Brave?”

“It’s brave to go on in spite of it.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Is this that repression thing you were talking about?”

“Hey, it’s my code of honor,” he said, trying to sound more lighthearted.
They walked a little further. They were going very slowly, ambling almost, and gently swinging their arms together as they held hands. Eventually they came to the back of the courthouse. Across the street were a row of law offices with old-fashioned street lamps in front of them, and the sidewalk was made out of red interlocking bricks. Underneath most of the first story windows were large flower boxes.

They hadn’t spoken for about ten minutes, but for the first time in his life Billy was not struggling to come up with the appropriate way to break the silence. He was just glad they were alone.

“Hey, look,” said Shari. “There are some steps over there.”

She led him to some concrete steps that went down below ground level to a basement door. At the bottom of the stairwell there was a four foot square area with a drain. When they sat on the last step they were completely invisible from the street.

“This is better than the bus?” asked Billy.

“At least we don’t have an audience.”

“No, just some other cop who will find us here and tell my parents I left town without there permission again.”

“This isn’t the Asburty Park.”

“No.”

Shari reached up and put her hand on the side of Billy’s head. Her fingers rubbed the back of his scalp as her palm cupped his ear. His head tingled, and a pressure welled up in his chest. He put his hands on her hips, and she kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Shari,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips full against his and slid her tongue into his mouth tracing the ridge behind his upper teeth. He started unbuttoning her shirt and she helped him, but soon they were so overcome with passion they just gave up yanked it over her head. He tore off his shirt as well and they pressed their bodies together.

“I don’t have a condom,” Billy said.

“I do,” said Shari.

“What a woman!
”
“Have you done this before?” she asked unbuttoning his pants.

“No,” he admitted. “You?”

“No.”

Thank God, he thought, relieved and much more relaxed. Their pants were around their knees now and they went down on the floor of the landing.

“Ow!” said Shari.”

“What?”

“I scraped myself on the concrete.”

“Here,” he said, handing her their shirts. “Lie down on these.”

She spread the shirts underneath her and was lying down with her knees bent and her feet on the bottom step. Billy straddled her, but his pants were caught around his ankles and finding the right position was awkward. The concrete was scraping his palms, as well. His fingers slipped against the side of the drain, cutting the skin on two of them and ripping a gash in his nail.

“Oh shit,” he said, grimacing.

“What?’

“Nothing, there, that’s better,” he said changing his position slightly.
He had half lost his erection at this point, but Shari started stroking his penis and it came back quickly. Almost too quickly. He consciously had to stop himself from coming in her hand.

“The rubber is in my pocket,” she said.

He clumsily reached back into her pants pocket, and retrieved the condom with what felt like a fistful of thumbs and then slipped it on. Thankfully he had practiced doing so one night earlier that week just in case a moment like this arrived.

“I love you,” said Shari, putting her hands on his chest and gently massaging his nipples with the tips of her index fingers.

“I love you, too.”

He tried to go inside her but somehow the angle was wrong and as he pressed, she flinched with pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s OK. Here let me help you.”

She reached down and tried to guide him, but she still tensed up. He tried going in and out a little at a time and that seemed to work. She became really moist, but just as he was all the way in and he could feel the warmth of her body wrapped around him, his knee slipped on the concrete and he let out a grunt. Shari tried to see what was wrong but her hair had got caught in the drain.

“Ow!” she screamed.

“What?” said Billy, afraid he had hurt her.

“My hair. It’s caught. Shit.”

Billy pulled out of her and immediately started working on extricating her hair.

“Should I just pull it?” he asked.

“No, untangle it.”

“Just a second.” He fumbled around, trying not to hurt her.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “Wait! Not so hard.”

“There!”

They both sat up and looked at each other, bare-chested with their pants around their ankles and a condom hanging loosely on Billy’s now half-flaccid penis.

“This may not be the best place,” said Shari.

They didn’t speak much as they quickly dressed and climbed out of the stairwell. Back at the bus stop Shari said, “Well…that was different,” and started giggling. Freed from embarrassment, Billy, too, let out a chuckle, and before long they were both convulsed in laughter.

“Man,” said Shari, “That was one for the ages. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Horny as hell, but you’ll live?” she asked.

“Yeah. So, do you think that counts?” asked Billy.

“You mean are we still virgins?”

“Yeah.”

“Technically, no, I guess.”

“Technically?”

“Yeah. I would say technically no.”