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โHow was she?โ Lonnie asked, nearly slobbering with excitement. โMan, I canโt fuckinโ believe you scored with Debbie. โโYeah,โ Raisin grinned. โWhat a slut. Waitโll everyone hears about this shit!โโFuck that bitch. โ I grumbled, sinking in my seat. โShe wouldnโt give it up. โโWhat?โ They said in unison. โBut we heard you in there. โ Raisin protested. โShe was moaninโ like a fuckinโ freight train. โI shook my head. โSheโs a good actress. โ I told them. โAll she let me do was feel her tits a little through her sweater. Every fuckinโ time I tried to put my hand underneath it sheโd slap it away.
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Fuckinโ cock-tease. โโYou didnโt fuck her?โ Lonnie asked, crushed. โWhat were you doing in there all that time?โโJust makinโ out. โ I said. โBelieve me, I tried but that bitch is harder to get into than Fort Knox. โThey were looking at me in confusion. The rule of teenaged boys of course is that even if you didnโt fuck them, you told people that you did. I could almost see the wheels of irrational logic turning in their heads. If I said that I hadnโt fucked her when I could easily have claimed that I had, I therefore must not have even come close to fucking her. The thought that I might actually have bagged her and was keeping it secret was so foreign a concept to them that they were able to ignore the overwhelming evidence before them and draw the conclusion I wanted them to draw. They probably figured I was even lying about feeling her tits since some embellishment was mandatory. โThatโs too fuckinโ bad man. โ Lonnie commiserated. โI really thought someone was gonna bag that bitch this time. โโNope.
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โ I said. โThe same old shit. Why do we even try?โโSome day,โ Raisin vowed with all the dramatics of Scarlet OโHara proclaiming she would never go hungry again. โThat bitch is gonna give it up. โโI doubt it. โ I offered. โSheโs good at giving blue balls though. The cunt. โThey bid me a sad farewell as I exited the car and soon the Falcon was roaring down my street, belching huge clouds of black, stinking exhaust from its tailpipe. As they disappeared I sighed with the kind of satisfaction that only a man who has just gotten laid can display. I headed for the house thinking that being fifteen again was all right. Iโd wished well. I was appalled by what I found inside. When the door opened the sound of Van Halen cranked at top volume hit my ears. The smell of marijuana hit my nose.
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Tracy was sitting on the couch with Cindy and a football player from school that I recognized as Cindyโs boyfriend, although I could not remember his name. Cindy and the football player were kissing each other in heated passion while Tracy was flipping through a teen magazine and pretending to ignore what was going on. A plastic bong sat on the coffee table next to a paper plate with pot in it. Pepsis and a bag of chips were sitting next to this. The bong still had tendrils of smoke curling out the top of it. They didnโt even hear me come in the house, the music was so loud. I remembered that Tracy had been busted for just such a thing during her senior year when my mother had come home from work unexpectedly and had walked in on just such a scene. God, my sister was a stupid teenager too. I kicked the plug out of the stereo system, causing โAinโt Talkinโ About Loveโ to wind down and die. The three people on the couch jerked almost painfully in alarm. Cindy and her boyfriend separated so fast that it looked as if theyโd burned each other. Cindyโs boyfriend made a grab for the pot on the table. They all stopped when they saw that it was only me. They relaxed a little. โYou scared the shit out of us!โ Tracy yelled at me.
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โYou little asshole! What the hell are you doing home now anyway?โCindyโs boyfriend was giving me a hostile look, a look that made me wonder if another Richie type encounter was brewing. โThe same thing you are. โ I told her mildly, kicking the door shut. โCutting school and smoking weed. โ I looked around the room, shaking my head sadly. โHowever, Iโm a little smarter about the way I do it than you idiots are. โThey all gaped at me. It was an expression that I was starting to get used to. I was starting to think of it as THE LOOK. I stared at Tracy. โWhat if Iโd been Mom coming home from work a little early because she didnโt feel good or something? That kind of shit can happen you know. Do you think Mom would call the house to let someone know sheโs coming home? Why would she do that? Nobodyโs supposed to be here. You got the music turned up so fuckinโ loud you didnโt even hear me open the door. The damn door wasnโt even locked. You guys are a freakinโ bust waiting to happen!โCindy and Tracy just stared at me in shock.
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Like I said, I had always been shy before and to them my personality would have appeared to have changed radically overnight. The old Billy would, upon interrupting their session, have simply blushed and muttered a brief apology before slinking out of the room. They did not know what to say or what to think about what Iโd said. But the football player reacted as his personality instinctively commanded him to. โWhat the fuck is it to you?โ He asked me, glaring. โShut your ass ball boy. โ I shot back at him. โYouโre in MY house and I wasnโt talking to you. โHis face reddened with rage. He stood up suddenly. โWhat did you say to me you little pussy?โโJeff, leave him alone. โ Cindy spoke, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him back down. He shook her arm off angrily, โSay that again to me faggot. โ He challenged. โI fuckinโ dare you.
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โโYou fuckinโ dare me?โ I answered mildly. โOkay. โ I nodded. โI told you to shut your ass. I then made a derisive remark aimed at your meager football skills. Did you hear me that time?โโYouโre dead kid. โ He said, starting to move towards me. โJeff!โ Tracy spoke now. โLeave him alone!โJeff continued to head towards me. He was actually planning to beat me up in my own living room in front of my sister who had invited him in there. Christ why was everyone so violent? No wonder the human race fought so many wars. โRichie Fairview told me I was dead too. โ I told him. โRight before the ambulance picked him up and took him to the hospital. Would you like to join him there asshole?โ He stopped.
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Apparently heโd heard that story. His eyes showed immediate doubt as he stared at me. I stared back. โGo sit your ass down. โ I told him. โBefore you get hurt. โHe licked his lips nervously, sparing a glance at the two girls. โI think youโd better do what he says Jeff. โ Tracy told him. She was hiding a smirk as she said it. I suddenly realized that Tracy didnโt like Cindyโs boyfriend too much. Interesting. Was there hope for her yet?โYouโre lucky they stopped me. โ Jeff finally blurted. A pretty pathetic face-saving measure Iโm sure even he would agree.
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He returned to the couch and sat down. โYeah, I guess Iโm lucky. โ I agreed, turning to Tracy. โIf I was you Iโd open up some windows in this house before Mom and Dad get home. The whole place reeks of pot. Do you guys do this sort of thing a lot?โโNo. โ Tracy told me, obviously lying. โWell itโs amazing you havenโt been busted yet. โ I told her, casting my eyes on Cindy, who was looking at me as if in awe. She was wearing tight jeans and a loose fitting sweater. Iโd forgotten how pretty her eyes were. They were a deep blue, the kind of eyes you could melt in. Currently of course, they were very reddened and only about half-staff and her honey-blonde hair was in disarray from Jeffโs fingers. Her neck was marred by a red hickey; Jeffโs territorial mark. I supposed it was better than peeing on her like a dog with a fire hydrant.
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I wondered about the possibilities of Cindy. Could I do it? It would be more challenging than Debbie had been. I gave her a seductive smile and she blushed deeply. Jeff saw it and fumed at me but didnโt make a move. Finally, without another word, I headed upstairs to my room, closing the door behind me. My room was a filthy mess. I was offended by it. During my adult years Iโd lost my teenaged sloppiness and had become something of a neat freak. Though I was still feeling the effects of the marijuana Iโd smoked earlier and desperately wanted to lie down and take a nap, I began picking up the room. It took me nearly two hours to get it clean, but it was a fascinating two hours nonethe-less. I came across many objects and possessions that I had not seen in years. I found places for them and by the time I finished it was quite a startling change. But there was one thing missing. While Iโd been cleaning Iโd heard the sound of my father coming home. I sincerely hoped for Tracyโs sake that sheโd cleaned the house well enough.
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I guessed that she had since she and Cindy were in her room, looking through some magazines as I passed by. Jeff of course, was long gone. Both girls watched me as I went by, shutting up with whatever theyโd been talking about. I smiled, especially at Cindy, who returned it weakly. Dad was sitting in his chair and drinking a bottle of beer. The television was on, showing an early edition of the local news. Again I found myself staring at him, marveling on how young he looked, how thin. He wasnโt much older than I was in a way. He caught me staring at him and looked at me. โYou okay Bill?โ He asked, concern in his voice. โOh sure Dad. โ I nodded. โIโm cool. I was just tryinโ to picture you with gray hair. โโWhat?โ He chuckled.
โWhy would you do that?โโWell, Grampa has gray hair doesnโt he? It stands to reason that you will too doesnโt it? I was just trying to picture what you would look like. โโThatโs kind of depressing. โ He smiled, sipping out of his beer. โWhat brought you to that subject?โโOh, uh, we were studying genetics in Anatomy the other day. Thatโs a dominate trait you know?โโIโve heard that. โ He answered. โWhatโre you up to?โโJust getting the vacuum cleaner. โNow he really looked at me strange. โThe what?โโThe vacuum cleaner. โ I said. โI just got done cleaning my room and now I need to vacuum it. โโYou cleaned your room?โ He asked in disbelief. โYou?โโYeah. โ I nodded. โIt was pretty dirty.
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Why did you guys ever let me get away with being so messy anyway?โโWhat?โโNever mind. โ I said, moving towards the living room closet. I opened it and the vacuum was there. โIโll bring it back in a minute. โWhile I carried the appliance upstairs his puzzled look followed me up. After I stowed the vacuum back in its closet I went back upstairs to lie down. Though I was exhausted I could not sleep. For one I was afraid. What if I went to sleep and woke up back in my other life? Was that possible? I surely didnโt know. What I was dealing with here was way beyond my limited range of knowledge. My very existence back in 1982 was something Iโd thought impossible but here I was. Somehow that dying Chinese man had done this to me. How I knew not. Were there any rules? I could conceive of being only allowed one day. It seemed possible that I was only allowed one waking period back here.
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I was not ready to return yet. But there was also the possibility that I was stuck here for good. I had to consider that too. In fact I considered that the most likely scenario. There were many ramifications to that possibility and I needed to think them through carefully. How much did I dare to change? How much could I change?What would happen if someone found out about what had happened to me? There were people in the world that would do almost anything to get their hands on me if my situation became known. Governments wanting to know about the next seventeen years, business people wanting to know about stock trends. I could envision my family being held hostage to get me to do their bidding. My initial thought had been to confide in Tracy. But I wondered if that was so wise. Tracy was after all, a teenager full of teenage stupidity as my earlier discovery graphically pointed out. I no longer thought that she could be trusted with a secret of this magnitude. But at the same time I needed to make sure that she did not get in the car with that college student on her graduation night. I had vowed to myself that I would prevent her death even if I could change nothing else on my return trip. That conviction was as strong in me as ever.
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Tracy would NOT die that night. One way or another I would see to it. But that brought me back to the one night theory. If I couldnโt tell her my secret, but if I was only allowed one night here, how could I make sure of her survival? I thought about that one for a while and finally I came up with something. That left me to ponder the other questions in my mind. Suppose I was here for good. What else could I change? And how could I better myself and my family? I certainly did not want to end up right back where I was in seventeen years. I wanted to do things differently this time. But how? What could I do?I reluctantly admitted to myself that I would lose Becky, my daughter in the process. This thought hurt me more than anything ever had before, but it was simply inevitable. Becky had been a very pleasant side effect of a brutal mistake that Iโd made in my previous life. I simply could not, no matter how much I loved my daughter, repeat that mistake. I couldnโt. I told myself that I wasnโt killing her. She would just never exist in the first place.
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My mind was able to draw a distinction between those two things; a shaky one, but a distinction. I lay there for more than two hours, until my mother called me down for dinner. I had a rough plan of sorts in mind by then. It was a plan that would be extensively modified and revised, but it was a plan. I felt better just having one. Dinner was my momโs tacos. They were fried in grease and would be politically incorrect by todayโs standards. Each one had to have at least a hundred grams of fat. But God they were delicious. I chowed down five of them, shoveling in mounds of rice and beans as accompaniment and then washing the mess down with two Cokeโs from the refrigerator. The only thing that would have made them better would have been a pitcher of margaritas but I figured mom probably wouldnโt whip up a batch for me. She seemed gratified to see me eat so much. It probably put her worries about drugs aside for the moment. I remembered that I was living in the midst of Nancy Reaganโs โJust Say Noโ era and that my mom had had her drug worries fueled by the little pamphlets that this era produced. The pamphlets always had โwarning signsโ that your kids were on drugs printed in them.
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I remembered how bizarre those so called warning signs had seemed to me even on my first trip through fifteen. A big one had been โloss of appetiteโ. What was up with that? Maybe if youโd moved all the way through marijuana and had worked your way to a two hundred-dollar a day cocaine habit you would have a loss of appetite. But most teenagers simply smoked pot. Loss of appetite was most definitely not a symptom of marijuana use. They should have put โgreatly increased appetiteโ instead. They should have put in โexcessive use of Visineโ as well. I also remembered that the pamphlets had so called terminology for drugs. The theory was that parents would overhear their kids using these terms and would therefore know they were on drugs. Right, as if the kids would talk about drugs in front of their parents. I remembered having big laughs with my friends as we read these pamphlets, usually while we were stoned. Those that had used drugs in the previous generation had obviously transcribed the terminology. They said that common terms for marijuana were: Tea, Mary Jane, leaf, wonder green, and other such nonsense. None of the terms were current. In my age they called it pot, buds, herb, smoke, KGB, greenbud, and weed; none of which were listed in Nancyโs pamphlets.
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I could imagine the laughter that would have resulted in the eighties if a kid had asked someone if they had any Mary Jane or tea for sale. I was forced to wonder if there had ever been a case of some kid being drawn off the path of drug abuse as a result of those โinformationalโ pamphlets. Dinner was consumed and another awkward moment occurred when Mom asked me a question just as we were about to start clearing the dishes from the table. โBilly,โ She said, โDid you clean Anita Browlingโs windows yesterday like you told her you would?โI looked up at her, searching my memory banks again. I came up with who Anita Browling was easily enough. She was a divorced neighbor in her late twenties that lived two houses over. Sheโd split with her husband sometime around the time I was twelve or so and I remembered Dad giving vague explanations about how Mr. Browling had โfound someone elseโ and left her (for some reason my parents had assumed that Tracy and I would be upset by their DIVORCE). My parents had, for whatever reason, kind of adopted Anita after her husband left her. She used to come over for dinner once a week. She had two small children that Tracy was volunteered to baby-sit frequently. I was always volunteered to mow her lawn for her since she professed not to know how to run a mower, or to do other small tasks such as cleaning her windows. Both of us were forbidden to take any money from her for our services, a point of resentment that had drawn my sister and I together a little in our teens. The image in my mind of her was of a slightly chunky woman with large breasts. Shewas a brunette with short hair and long legs.
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She would meet another man at about thetime of my high school graduation. About the time I moved away from home shewould marry him and disappear from Mom and Dadโs lives. I remembered thinkingback then that I wouldnโt mind doing her. But she wasnโt so attractive that you couldadmit to your peers that you would do her, if you can dig that. I also remembered howshe used to watch as I mowed the lawn, always dressed in shorts and a loose fitting Tshirt. I remembered catching glimpses of her bra-clad tits when sheโd bent over to pull a weed or something. My adult mind, which hadnโt thought of her in years, suddenly realized that sheโd been displaying herself for me. Had she been hoping for a little action from a teenaged boy?Before I could follow that train of thought too far I came back to the original question. Had I cleaned her windows yesterday? I had no freaking idea if I had or hadnโt. My mother was looking at me, awaiting a response. โUh. . . โ I started, trying to think this through. Had I cleaned her windows? โBill?โ Mom said, deepening her voice.
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โI told you the other day they were getting really dirty after the windstorm we had. You TOLD me youโd do it before it snowed again. โโUh,โ That gave me a little more information. I was a horrible procrastinator as a teen. Chances are I hadnโt done it the first time Iโd been asked. โUh, no Mom. โ I finally spat out. โSorry. I forgot. โโYou forgot?โ She asked. โSorry. โ I squeaked. โBilly, that is just so typical of you. . .
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โ She began. Her lecture went on for nearly two minutes. I gave her uh huhs, and okays in all the right places, amazed that I still had the ability to do that after all these years. I sincerely promised that my first stop after school would be Anita Browlingโs house. Mom seemed satisfied. I found myself hoping that Anita would be home. I knew something that the other Billy didnโt. After dinner I went up to my room. I opened my backpack and pulled out my Algebra book. I found some blank paper and a pencil and then opened the book to the first chapter. I began studying. Tracy had gone out somewhere after dinner and I heard her return about 8:30. I continued to study as I heard her go to her room and slam the door. Downstairs the television was on as Mom and Dad watched whatever sitcom was on in the eighties. I could hear their sporadic laughter drifting up from time to time as well as muffled comments that I couldnโt understand but were probably commentary on how TV wasnโt the same as it had been a few years ago.
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I had managed to get a basic concept of the Algebra in the past few hours, working my way to the test questions of Chapter 2. The homework that had been assigned Iโd finally figured out and completed. With a headache behind my eyes I closed up my book and stowed it in my backpack. I still had assignments to complete in my other classes but I decided to catch them up tomorrow. I was studied out. I changed into a pair of sweat pants from my dresser, wondrous at the fact that I was donning a piece of clothing that would not have even come above my thighs the day before my legs hadwould get so much bigger. I put on the longest, baggiest T-shirt I could find and then walked downstairs, passing the living room without even drawing a glance from my parents. A moment of searching led me to a bottle of Tylenol in the kitchen cupboard. I grabbed three of them and then opened the refrigerator. I pulled out one of my fatherโs bottles of Budweiser and stuffed it down the front of my sweats. The coolness chilled my skin but I ignored it. The T-shirt covered the large bulge the bottle made in my crotch. I dashed back upstairs and went to the door of Tracyโs room. Music was playing from inside. Rick Springfield this time.
Jessieโs Girl was the cut. Good old Rick. The former soap opera star turned singer who went after the easiest market to impress; teenaged girls, leading the way for Bon Jovi and other such musical travesties. Within two years, I was gratified to remember, he would fade into a land that was even beyond obscurity. The world would be better off for it I knew. I knocked on Tracyโs door. โWhat?โ Came a voice from the other side. Instead of answering I knocked again, not wanting to draw the attention of our parents. The music turned down and the door creaked open about six inches, enough to allow me to see Tracyโs impatient face. She was dressed in a long T-shirt that showed off her legs.
Her auburn hair was loosened and falling around her shoulders. For the first time I marveled that my sister was very attractive. No wonder the college student had gone after her. โWhat?โ She hissed disgustedly at me. โI need to talk to you for a minute.
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โ I told her. โCan I come in?โโAbout what?โ She asked. โAbout that crap you were spouting today in school?โ โYeah. โ I nodded, seeing in her face that she was fearful about talking on that subject. โAbout that. โShe threw the door open. โCome in. โ She said finally. Her room was a pretty neat for a teenager. The bed was made, her books were all stowed in their proper places. Her dresser was cleaned off; all of her makeup in a little tray. The only clutter was the Rick Springfield album cover, which sat next to her stereo and her rumpled clothes that sheโd recently removed. She shut the door behind me as I entered. โCan I sit down?โ I asked her as she sat on the edge of her bed. She waved me impatiently to the chair next to her dresser.
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The same chair sheโd been combing her hair at this morning. I pulled it out and planted myself in it. I pulled the beer out of my pants and set it on the desk. With an expert spin of the cap, it was opened. The three Tylenol went into my mouth and were washed down by the glorious taste of the cold beer. I sighed at the first swallow and quickly took another. Tracy watched all this without speaking, without even asking why I had one of Dadโs beers. โSay your piece and get out. โ She told me. โI wanna listen to the rest of this album. โ For the second time that day I interrupted her music by unplugging the stereo. Rick managed โI wishh IIIII haaaaaaaad JJ. . . โ And then stopped, his voice deepening to silence.
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โYou dick!โ She proclaimed. โWhy did you. . . โโTracy listen to me for a minute. โ I interrupted. โI know youโre expected to act a certain way in the presence of your younger brother. Youโre expected to treat me with contempt in order to show how superior you are. I concede your superiority, okay?โ โWhat?โ She asked, wide-eyed. โYour friends are nowhere around and I wonโt tell them that you actually allowed me in your room, allowed me to shut off your precious Rick Springfield album. You can go back to treating me like shit as soon as I leave here but for now I need you to listen very carefully to me and to remember what Iโm about to tell you. If you could drop the snotty attitude for a few minutes Iโd appreciate it greatly. โShe stared. Finally she asked, โWhatโs happened to you Bill? Youโve been acting strange all day. Itโs like youโre a different person.
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โโNever mind that. โ I told her. โTracy, do you remember when we were little kids?โโYes. โ She answered carefully. โWe were very close back then. We were playmates. We used to conspire together. You used to call me โlittle brotherโ and I used to call you โbig sisterโ, do you remember?โ โNo. โ She shook her head, but casting her eyes aside in a way that told me she was lying. โWell you did. โ I told her. โWe were best friends until about the time you started junior high school. From then on I was the object of your scorn. I understand that Tracy, I really do. You discovered boys, you discovered peer pressure.
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You grew out of me. Itโs a natural thing. And I developed interests of my own too. But the fact is, weโre still brother and sister and some day weโll be close again. Can you understand that?โ She seemed about to say something snotty once more. Something like, โas far as Iโm concerned youโll be a piece of shit until you dieโ. But she paused at the last second and her eyes softened. โYes Billy. โ She answered. โI guess that some day we will be. โ A small triumph but a triumph in any case. โGood. โ I nodded. โWeโre getting somewhere. Now hereโs a harder one.
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Despite our fighting with each other do you realize that we actually love each other as brother and sister?โShe opened her mouth. This time I was sure she going to say something foul. โAgain,โ I said before she could. โNo one else is here in the room and Iโll never tell anyone what you say. We donโt have to get into any deep philosophical discussions. I just want an acknowledgement that, as brother and sister, we love each other. We may not always LIKE each other, but we love each other. Right?โShe licked her lips nervously. โI suppose. โ She finally allowed. โOkay. โ I nodded, taking another drink of my beer. โOn that note I want you to listen to me very carefully for a minute. Iโm going to tell you something very important. The most important thing you will ever hear in your life.
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Please donโt ask me to explain. I canโt do that right now. You probably will think Iโm nuts but that doesnโt matter as long as you REMEMBER what Iโm about to say. Remember it well. โโOkay. โ She said carefully. I took a deep breath, downing another large drink of beer. I passed the bottle to Tracy and she looked at it for a second and then took a swig. I took faith in the fact that she didnโt pause to wipe off my saliva first. โNow hopefully Iโll be able to explain this thing further to you before the time comes. โ I said. โBut thereโs a chance I wonโt. Thereโs a chance Iโll be the same old Billy youโre used to tomorrow. If that is the case I want you to remember this. โโBilly, what are you.
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. . โโShhh. โ I hushed her. โOn the night you graduate from high school you will tell Mom and Dad that you are going to a party at Cindyโs house. That will be a lie. What you will be doing instead will be going to a frat party at the university. โโBilly, what?โ She cried, her flesh breaking out in goose bumps. โListen. โ I admonished. โI canโt explain further right now. I donโt even know what the best way of telling you this is. But you have to listen to me. A guy named David Mitchell will want to take you to this frat party. He will be driving a 77 Camero.
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He will be a football player at the college and very good looking. Now you will meet him about a month before graduation but itโs graduation night you need to worry about. Do not, under any circumstances, get in that car with him that night. No matter what you have to do, no matter what lies you have to tell, do not do it. Your life depends upon this Tracy. Donโt do it no matter what. โโBilly, youโre kinda scaring me. โ She said. โGood. โ I answered. โThatโs my intent. Lisa Sanchez will be part of the group that gets in that car. Her boyfriend will be another college student named Rick Manchester. โ โLisa Sanchez?โ Tracy asked. โSheโs a cheerleader.
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I donโt hang out with her. โโYou will. โ I told her. โIโm giving you the names of all the people in the car so that youโll know when the time comes, that my information is accurate. Iโm hoping that will be enough to keep you out of there. If you can keep Lisa out of there too, so much the better, but the important thing is that YOU do not get in that car on that night. โI was gratified to see that she was scared shitless by what I was saying. Good. I figured she would obey me even a year and half later when all of the circumstances that I described came together. At least I hoped she would. โWhat happens if I get in the car?โ She asked me. โDave will be drunk that night. โ I said. โHe will drive the car into the Spokane River from the levee road near the falls and you and Lisa will drown before you can get out. โ I took a deep breath, tears forming in my eyes as I remembered my mother coming to my bedroom at four oโclock in the morning in tears, waking me up to tell me that thereโd been a horrible accident.
Please, let me be successful here. There was more to the story of course. Dave would be charged with vehicular manslaughter and sentenced to two years in prison. His sentence would be suspended and he would go on to play football in college, prompting my parents to become victimโs rights activists; a pursuit theyโd still been active in at the time of my recycling. Tracy was looking pale as she tried to digest what I was telling her. โBill, how can you know this? Where did you get this information? Did you have a psychic flash or something?โโI canโt tell you now. โ I told her. โItโs too early. Iโll tell you later if I can. โโBut. . . โโTracy, just remember. โ I said. โJust remember and donโt get in that car that night.
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โโI wonโt. โ She promised. I smiled and nodded. If I was only here for one day then Iโd done the best I could do. If I woke up tomorrow back in 1999 then Tracy would probably still be alive. That would be the best purpose of the gift Iโd been given. Although getting laid had been nice too. I made sure my alarm clock was set for the proper time and turned it on. I then lay down and turned out the lights. For the longest time I still couldnโt sleep, fearful of what Iโd find upon awakening. But at last my mind was able to shut down and I drifted off. CLICK. โSo if youโre tired of the saaaaame old story. Ohhhhh, turn some pages. Iโll be here when you are ready, to roll with the changes.
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. . โ Came the voice of Kevin Cronin from my clock radio the next morning. REO Speedwagon. Another blast from the past. A song I hadnโt heard in years. My eyes opened and I saw the now familiar confines of my teenaged bedroom. I was still here! I felt like shouting with joy. Still here!Tracy was looking someone haggard as she combed her hair at her desk. Her face was pale and her eyes had bags beneath them. She looked up at me as I headed to the shower. โMorning Trace. โ I told her. โMorning. โ She said slowly, her eyes trying to read my face.
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โSleep well?โ I asked her. โNo. โ She told me. โI was awake most of the night. When I did sleep I had horrible nightmares. โI nodded. โIโm sorry about that. โ I said. โTheyโll pass. Just remember what I said. โโI will. โ She told me. โI donโt think I could ever forget it. โโGood. โ I muttered, walking to the bathroom and closing the door behind me.
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Dad, as usual had the newspaper before him at the breakfast table. As I slurped down my cereal I asked him if I could see the business section. โThe business section?โ He asked, raising his brow again. โYeah. โ I told him. โIโm just curious about something. โHe shrugged and handed it over, going back to his perusal of the front page while I opened my section to the stock market report. I scanned through the list of publicly traded stocks for a few minutes, happening across several that seemed good prospects but, most importantly, not seeing the one that would be an absolute killer investment. I smiled to myself. So it wasnโt on the stock market yet. Good. โFind what you were looking for?โ Dad asked as I sat the section back down in his pile. โI think so. โ I told him. โHave you ever considered investing in the stock market?โ He lowered his paper and looked at me, his eyes taking in my face, finally concluding that I wasnโt joking.
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โNot really. โ He answered. โI have my pension plan from the school district. The stock market seems like kind of a gamble. โโIn a way it is. โ I agreed. โBut if you could pick the right stocks and invest heavily in them, you could really make some money, couldnโt you?โโAhh,โ He said. โBut thatโs the trick. You have to pick the right stocks. If you pick the wrong ones, your money is down the toilet. It would take either someone with a lot more market savvy than I have or a genuine psychic to make a killing in the market. โ โA genuine psychic huh?โ I smiled. Tracy, who had been silent during this exchange, gave me a sharp look. โBut as far as I know, such creatures are rare. โ Dad said.
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โI suppose. โ I said. โBut if someone DID have knowledge about which stocks were going to go sky-high in the future, that someone COULD make quite a bit of money. Couldnโt they?โโWell sure. โ Dad answered. โItโs a nice fantasy. Suppose you knew that say, oh, AT&T was going to go through the roof next year. If you knew that, you could invest every penny you had in it. When it skyrocketed, you could sell it off at enormous profit. But unfortunately, we donโt know that information, do we?โโI guess not. โ I said, my mind whirring a mile a minute. โBut it IS a nice fantasy. โ โSo where were you yesterday dude?โ Mike asked me as we walked to school that morning. The snow on the ground was almost completely melted and the sun was high in the sky. It was still a little cold but on the whole it was a beautiful Eastern Washington late winter day.
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โOh I met up with Raisin and Lonnie. โ I said absently. โWe went over to Raisinโs house and smoked some buds. โโYeah?โ He asked, obviously hurt that he hadnโt been there. โYeah,โ I nodded. โDebbie was there too. I got to make out with her a little. โโWith Debbie?โ He asked. โThe cock-tease?โโThatโs her. โ I affirmed. โShe cock-teased me damn near to death. โHe asked for details and I provided him with the story. I knew that would serve to reinforce the story that Lonnie and Raisin would pass around and therefore protect Debbieโs reputation. When I was finished he said, โItโs too bad you didnโt get to fuck her. โ He put on a sophisticated look.
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โI fucked her once you know. โโOh really?โ I asked, as if I believed him. โYep. At a party at Nick Costiganโs one night. I had some weed and she wanted some. I told her she wasnโt getting any until she gave up the puss. โHe then went on to describe his mythical session with her. Of course heโd made her come six or seven times until sheโd begged him for more. Heโd then fucked her up the ass, making her come an additional three or four times before he finally โshot my wadโ in her ass. After that sheโd always wanted a repeat performance but heโd always turned her down. She was nice in a pinch he told me. โHow come you never told me about this BEFORE?โ I asked, unable to help myself. He blanched for a minute. Iโd just asked a forbidden question. When you were told a pussy story you werenโt supposed to question its validity.
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They might not listen to YOUR pussy stories if you did that. โShe asked me not to tell anyone. โ He answered. โShe didnโt want anyone knowing she fucked. โโI see. โ I nodded. โSo why did you tell me just now?โโWell,โ He stammered. โItโs been a while and I know you wonโt tell anyone. โโAhhh. โ I nodded. โI get it. โWe walked in silence for a few minutes. Finally I asked, โMike, do you ever think about what youโre gonna do AFTER high school?โโWhat?โโAfter high school?โ I repeated. โItโs gonna end some day you know. What are you gonna do with your life?โโYou sound like a fuckinโ school counselor.
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โ He informed me, almost angrily. โHigh school ainโt ever gonna end man. Itโs a fuckinโ prison. โโIn a way. โ I allowed. โBut some day youโll be freed from it. You ever think about what comes next?โโNo. โ He said, his tone telling me to drop the subject. โI donโt. โMr. Achmed was surprised to see me hand in homework to him that morning. He was even more surprised to find it was correct. He expressed his pleasure with my work and made a point of calling on me during class. Most of the time I managed to come up with the right answers to his questions. Instead of making me happy however, it kind of pissed me off.
Now that I was supplying the right answers to his questions he was paying attention to me. But before, when I was flunking all of his tests and getting an F or a D in his class, I was simply ignored. The same was true for my other teachers. Now Iโm not a screaming liberal that likes to blame everyone but the person responsible, but there is a certain amount of responsibility instilled in a teacher isnโt there? Why hadnโt I been helped along before this? Why had I been allowed to simply sit in class and flunk without even a single pulling aside by a teacher? Cynicism was the answer of course. It was the answer, but it wasnโt an excuse. I had been a paramedic and, except for cops, you would be hard pressed to find a more cynical group of people. I had been called out for so much bullshit in the course of my career that I assumed everyone was full of shit until proven otherwise. People called us for hangnails, for colds, for ear infections that their kids had. And they reported these things as finger amputations, difficulty breathing, and head injuries. But never had I acted upon this cynicism. If someone said they were having chest pain, then they were having chest pain and I treated it appropriately even if they were twenty-five year olds only trying to get out of work for the day. If someone said they were short of breath than they were short of breath, even if they were speaking in complete paragraphs. If you acted on your cynicism you would be right probably ninety-nine times out of a hundred. But that one time you were wrong would bite you in the ass hard. My teachers obviously assumed that trying to reach a disinterested student was a waste of time.
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Most of the time it probably would have been. But sometimes it wouldnโt have been. Shouldnโt they have been extending at least a little effort when someone like me simply sat in their classrooms and paid no attention? How many people that might have been turned around had just been allowed to sink into the abyss because the teachers assumed they were lost causes and directed their full attention to those that showed an interest in their subjects?I was surprised by how strongly I felt about this subject and was quite pissed off by the time I left Algebra and headed for American History. My feelings were reinforced when I explained to the teacher that I didnโt have my homework that day but that I would turn it in tomorrow. โFine Billy. โ She said absently, moving onto the next student, obviously not believing that I was going to turn in anything the next day. Granted I did not make a habit of turning in the homework but had she ever talked to me about this? No. Had she ever called my parents and talked to them about it? No. To her I was a lost cause, unworthy of her attention. She would expend no efforts towards me unless I showed HER that I was interested in her subject. Why wasnโt she trying to GET me interested in her subject? Why was she simply letting me sit there every day? What system was encouraging this?Her lecture that day was on the role of Southern abolitionists in the beginnings of the drive towards the Civil War. She portrayed them as saintly people, dedicated to the cause of abolishing the evil institution of slavery. She implied to the class that they were right up there with George Washington and Abraham Lincoln in American History. About halfway through I could take no more. I raised my hand.
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She ignored it for quite some time but finally was forced to call on me. โYes Billy?โ She said. โDo you have a question?โโYes. โ I nodded. โIโm just curious about something. You just told us that the abolitionists used to use protests to influence those southern slaveholders. Exactly what kind of protests are you talking about?โShe gave me THE LOOK for a moment and then said, โWell, they used a variety of methods.
Boycotts of services and that sort of thing. โโThat sort of thing?โ I said. โIsnโt it true that they used to attack slave holders and their families in the middle of the night? Burning down their houses and hacking the men and even the women and children to death?โShe nearly choked but she composed herself quickly. โWell, there were some cases of the more fanatical elements doing things like that of course. But that was rare. Usually they used the other measures I talked about. You have to understand that these people felt very strongly about anti-slavery. About itโs wrongness.
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Itโs only natural that some of them went off the deep end as it were. โโReally?โ I pressed further. โI actually read that grotesque violence was more the rule than the exception. I guess I must have read wrong. But to answer your other point about them feeling that it was wrong. Donโt you think that these abolitionists were motivated more by economic factors than religious or moralistic ones?โShe was now speechless. โI mean think about it. Who were the southern abolitionists? Poor whites for the most part, right?โโWell yes,โ She nodded, โBut. . . โโPoor whites without jobs. How could they compete with slave labor? They couldnโt. Isnโt it true they also used to kill the slaves when they would attack a plantation?Hardly sounds like people that are just interested in freeing the slaves now, does it?โ โWell again Billy,โ She said firmly. โWhat you are talking about was the exception, not the rule. There were SOME incidents as you described but usually they used economic measures like boycotts to achieve their ends.
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And many of them were imprisoned or killed by the corrupt southern system for their efforts. โโWell of course they were. โ I snorted. โThey were destroying valuable property and threatening a near-perfect economic system. The plantation owners ran the law after all. I imagine they came down rather hard on them when they caught them. โ She was actually flustered by what Iโd said. โWell thatโs a very interesting point of view Billy. โ She told me. โBut I think weโve discussed it enough now. If you donโt mind, Iโll get back to the lecture now. โโSure. โ I smiled. โOkay,โ She said, โNow back in 1858 there was a group called. .
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. โThough I had no homework for Mrs. Crookshank either, she did not ignore me in class as she usually did. She remembered my dissertation on the blood cell the previous day and began probing at me to see if it was simply a well-studied joke on my part or not. Her lecture was on the major arteries of the body and she fired her first shot less than two minutes into it. โNow can anyone tell me the name of the arteries that feed the kidneys?โ She asked and then, without waiting for anyone to put up his or her hand, turned to me. โBilly, maybe you can tell us?โShe thought she had me Iโm sure. Iโd been doing what I usually did in her class; watching her alluring form move back and forth and not looking as if I was paying the least bit of attention to her words. โMesenteric. โ I said in a bored voice, causing her to give me THE LOOK. โYes. โ She nodded, obviously taken aback a bit, and then went on. She called on me multiple other times during the lecture, making the questions harder and harder. We covered the carotids, the circle of Willis, and all of the coronary arteries. Some of the questions I knew were not even part of her lecture, were not even part of high school curriculum.
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I came up with the answers every time, spouting them out in a monotone voice with an expressionless face. It quickly became clear to the entire class that some sort of battle was going on between Mrs. Crookshank and I. Finally, bored, I conceded the battle, telling her I did not know the answer to a question she asked. The look on her face was of weak triumph and more than a little relief. She wrapped up her lecture just before the bell rang and assigned us our homework for the next day. As the class filed out she called, โBilly?โI turned to her questioningly. โDo you mind if I speak to you for a moment?โโSure. โ I said, walking over. Her eyes looked me up and down as I stood before her desk. โYou seem to have quite a bit of knowledge of anatomy and physiology. โ She almost accused. I shrugged. โI like to read. โ I said.
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โReally?โ She said. โWhat books have you read?โโOh the usual. โ I told her. โGrayโs Anatomy, A Physicianโs Guide to A&P, stuff like that. โโYouโve read them?โ She found this hard to believe. โYep. โ I nodded. โFascinating reading. Iโve even read your textbook a little. Itโs not bad but it oversimplifies things a little, wouldnโt you say?โShe swallowed deeply, took a deep breathe, and then said, โBilly, I majored in Biology in college and I have an extensive background in A&P. I asked you questions today that are well beyond high school level knowledge and you answered every one correctly except one. โโI only pretended I didnโt know that one. โ I told her. โI felt you were, shall we say, singling me out, and I wanted you to stop. โ I smiled cynically.
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โKind of unprofessional for a teacher wouldnโt you say?โShe dismissed the subject of her professionalism, or lack thereof, with a shake of her head. โI see. So youโre telling me that youโve known the answers to my questions all of this time, but that you havenโt answered any of them, either in class or on your tests or in your homework until yesterday?โI shrugged again. โWhat can I say?โโWhat can you say?โ She asked, getting a little angry now. โThis makes no sense. Why would you do such a thing?โโWell Mrs. Crookshank,โ I told her. โIโm whatโs known as a classic underachiever. That means I have above average intelligence and good reasoning ability but that I am bored to death by high school because the curriculum is so scaled-down that the work is not challenging to me. This sets up a vicious cycle in which I stop listening and doing the work and therefore get far behind and fail many classes. Itโs mostly my fault of course, but the system itself is also partially to blame since it sets such absurdly low standards in the first place in an attempt to pad the statistics. I mean, when regional test scores are low, what do you people in the education business do? Do you beef up the learning or reevaluate your teaching methods? No. What you do is scale down the curriculum and lower the standards for passing, therefore making it easier for those โstrugglingโ students to pass, but boring the crap out of those of us who would probably benefit from harder, more challenging classes. What then happens is that many of what could potentially be your best students simply donโt give a damn while many of the less intelligent and less worthy ones have their good grades spoon fed to them by teaching them with Dick and Jane methods. โShe gaped at me.
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I knew Iโd hit upon the very subject that line teachers like her had bitched about for years to their administration. In a few years, after several lawsuits about people graduating at a functionally illiterate level while promising students were actually dropping out, education reform would hit the State of Washington like a sledgehammer, improving things remarkably. I almost wished I could tell her that. She would still be teaching when it occurred. But I didnโt. โI read psychology too. โ I told her instead, heading out the door. I ran into Debbie at lunch. She giggled over to me and smiled. I greeted her, looking her up and down, remembering what her young body had felt like naked beneath mine. โWord has it Iโm the biggest cock-tease in the school. โ She told me. โWell what do you know about that?โ I smiled. โBetter than being the biggest slut, isnโt it?โShe nodded, giggling again. โAll the girls are asking me why I made out with you.
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โโYeah?โ I grinned. โWhat you tell โem?โโThat you were a totally awesome kisser. The best. โโThanks. โ I said gratefully, wondering how long it would be until one of the other stoner girls decided to try for herself. โHow are you today?โShe smiled shyly. โI could use another โkissโ myself. โ She said, blushing. I chuckled. โI got something to do after school today, but why donโt you give me your phone number? Maybe Iโll give you a call on Saturday. โShe handed a piece of paper over to me. Sheโd already taken the time to write her number down. โCall me ANYTIME. โ She said, walking away. Period four, which I hadnโt gone to yesterday, was Driverโs Education.
I was gratified to see that at least they took this subject very seriously. The information, though very familiar to me, was not the least bit scaled down. Period five was PE. It was spent learning the finer points of basketball. And though I enjoyed seeing all of the high school girls jumping around in their school sweats and T-shirts, I was no better at sports than I had ever been. I did enough to get by and let the rest ride. As I dressed in the locker room some of Richie Fairviewโs cronies were in there. Usually they were the terror of the locker room. They eyed me nervously and came nowhere near me. When they started to approach some poor freshman slob, probably intending to make him cry just for the fun of it, I gave them a glare and they immediately found something else to do. I smiled to myself. Maybe I couldnโt change the world, but I was doing a little bit at least. Period six, the final period of the day was English. The subject was paragraph writing. I listened blandly and noted down my homework.
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I kept my mouth shut. When the bell rang I shouldered my backpack, found Mike, and headed for home. Shortly after arriving home I gathered up a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels. Tracy had been lying on the couch flipping through a rock music magazine and had only grunted a reply to my greeting when Iโd come in the house. However when she saw me heading out the door with the cleaning supplies she favored me with a pitying look. โGoing to clean Anitaโs windows?โ She asked me. I nodded, putting on a look of resigned disgust. โYep. You know how it is. โ โYeah,โ She nodded. โI know how it is. I gotta watch her little brats on Saturday night. โ She shook her head in disgust. โSaturday fucking night! Can you believe the nerve of Mom and Dad? Volunteering me for that shit on Saturday night. And do you know why she needs a babysitter that night?โโWhy?โ I asked, pausing in the doorway.
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โBecause sheโs going to a party. A party! Well what the hell do they think I was gonna do? Iโm tired of them springing this crap on me at the last minute. I have a life too. โ I smiled. โYes you do. โ I told her. โLet me talk to her. Iโll see what I can do. Iโm not doing anything Saturday, maybe sheโll let me baby-sit instead. โโYou?โ Tracy asked with horror. โYou canโt baby-sit. โโWhy not?โ I asked, already knowing what she was going to say. โBecause youโre a boy!โโSo? Whatโs that got to do with anything? Why do girls automatically make good babysitters while boys are untrustworthy?โโWell,โ She tried to come up with something and failed. โJust because. Boys arenโt as responsible as girls are.
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โโOh weโre not, are we? Why is that?โโBecause,โ She said, โIf a boy was left alone in a house heโd do all kinds of things. โI started laughing. โWhat?โ She asked. โWhen you were babysitting her kids,โ I asked, โDid you ever drink her booze?โโNo. โ Tracy said indignantly. โOh come on Tracy. โ I chided. โWell maybe once or twice. โ She admitted. โAnd did you ever have your boyfriend over to her house?โโWell, yes. โโAnd did you ever smoke weed over there and make out on the couch? Or maybe use her bedroom for a little. . . โโAll right!โ She yelled, laughing. โYou made your point.
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At least to me anyway. But Mom and Dad and Anita are never going to buy it. โโIโm just offering. โ I told her. โIโll float the idea by Anita while Iโm over there. And Mom and Dad will go along if Anita does. Donโt worry, Iโm good at talking people into things. And if it doesnโt work, youโre no worse off are you?โโI guess not. โ She answered, her demeanor brightening. โWell thanks Bill. I hope you can talk her into it. โ She chuckled. โItโs kinda hard to picture you babysitting though. โ โKids love me. โ I assured her, โAnd I love them.
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Iโll be fine. โ I headed for the door and then paused, โBy the way, what are her kidsโ names anyway?โAnita Browlingโs house was a single story with a small lawn and small back yard. Like all the houses in the subdivision, it had been built about 1970 or so, during a major growth spurt for the Spokane area. Like many of the other houses on the block, the paint was peeling off due to the extremes of the weather. I knew that at some point in the near future I would be volunteered to paint the house for her. Was that this coming summer? I figured it would be. I knew, looking at the paint that it hadnโt been done yet and I also knew that Iโd done it before Tracyโs death. It hadwould take me nearly two weeks in the hot sun to complete. Anita was home when I knocked. I remembered that she worked early in the morning, Tracy often had to get up at 5:00 AM to go baby-sit on vacation days, but I couldnโt for the life of me remember what it was she did. She was wearing a pair of dark slacks that hid the form of her slightly large hips and a button-up blouse that showed off her large breasts nicely. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. She smiled warmly as she saw me standing there with my cleaning supplies in hand. โBilly. โ She greeted, throwing open the door and allowing me entry.
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โDid you come to do the windows today? Youโre such a sweetie. โโNo problem. โ I said, smiling back. โIโll have โem squeaky clean in no time. โ Her two children (Ryan and Jennifer, Ryan and Jennifer, my mind repeated to me), were coloring in books at her coffee table. They both looked up at me for a moment and then went back to what they were doing. The living room was a little cluttered with toys and so forth but remarkably neat for a woman with two children. The television was turned off and the stereo was turned on. Barbara Striesand was singing about love, how it was ageless and evergreen, whatever the hell that meant. โI really appreciate you doing this for me Billy,โ Anita was saying. โThey get so dirty during the winter and I have such a hard time climbing on the ladder you know. โ โIโm happy to do it. โ I assured her, โWhere should I start?โI got the ladder out of her garage and began doing the outsides first, moving from one to the other, scraping and wiping off the accumulation of dirt, grime, road salt, and all of the other shit that floats around in our air or is blown forcefully through it during the winter. Anita stayed in the house for this portion although I caught glimpses of her through the windows when she happened to be in a room that I was cleaning. I watched her whenever I saw her, checking out her form and imagining the possibilities.
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Though she was slightly chunky, there was nothing in the world wrong with that. Her skin looked soft, her face pretty, and she had beautiful breasts that bounced nicely when she walked. Sure, a teenager wouldnโt admit he desired her, such were the commandments of peer pressure, but an adult would have no problem with her whatsoever. And I was most definitely an adult. She waved at me whenever she happened to catch me looking in at her, or smiled at the very least, but there was no overt flirtation. I began to wonder if my mind was remembering things correctly. Was I confusing my previous masturbation fantasies with reality?When I went in the house to do the inside of the windows it was only a minute or two before I got my first clue. I was up on the stepladder doing the living room window and she came up to offer me a soda to drink. As she handed it to me I was looking down at her. She had undone the top button of her blouse, allowing me to look straight down the front of it. I could see the mass of her white breasts contained in a flimsy, lacy bra. I was certain that the top button had not been undone earlier and I was also certain, as a fifteen year old would NOT have been, that she was well aware of the view she was giving me. She was showing herself to me. But for what purpose?โThank you. โ I smiled, taking the soda and swigging out of it.
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I then handed it back to her. โCould you set it over there for me?โ I asked, pointing at a coffee table next to the ladder. โSure,โ She replied, taking it from my hand. When she bent over to set it down gravity pulled her breasts away from her body, as well as pulling the blouse away from her tits. This allowed me a fine view indeed. She caught me looking as she stood back up and I turned my head away, as a teenager would do. There was no sense tipping my hand, was there?As I moved from window to window I grew more and more certain that she was deliberately showing herself to me. Why was she doing this? I wondered. Was she just teasing a teenager? Or did she desire something more? I didnโt know. Though my memories of her little shows were correct I also remembered that she had never made any attempt to actually seduce me. What should I do next? How could I find out safely? As I cleaned I also chatted and talked to her two kids, remembering my promise to Tracy. Jennifer was four and Ryan was six. I truly do love children and they were cute ones. I applied all of the skills Iโd picked up in my thirty-two years charming them. The responded to me well, obviously impressing Anita with my rapport.
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โYour kids are really cute. โ I told her at one point, and she beamed at me. But the kids also prevented me from seeing how far she was willing to go with her little game. She was an attentive and responsible mother. I knew instinctively that she would do nothing while they were awake. That thought led to a plan. โWhat time do you and Jenny have to go to bed?โ I asked Ryan playfully. He pouted. โEight oโclock on school nights. โ He said. โAnd weโre not even tired then!โโThatโs a bummer. โ I told him, marking the time in my head. โYour mommyโs a real meanie, isnโt she?โโYeah!โ They agreed together, giggling and making their mommy giggle too. While I cleaned her bedroom windows she was folding her laundry on the bed and chatting with me about this and that. She asked about school and I had to search my mind for answers since Iโd only spent two days in the place.
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As far as I know I said nothing inappropriate. When I finished the window I stepped down from the ladder and spied the doorway that led to the master bathroom. That would be HER bathroom. โDo you mind if I use your restroom?โ I said, nodding towards the door. โSure. โ She said, waving me in that direction. I went inside and closed the door. After emptying my bladder into her toilet I buttoned up my pants prior to flushing. When my pants were secure I pushed the handle and used the noise of the toilet to cover the sound of me opening up her medicine cabinet. I took a look inside, quickly flitting my eyes over the shelves full of Tylenol, old antibiotics, old codeine, and various over the counter remedies. I spotted what I was looking for on the bottom shelf. A square plastic case with little white pills and occasional rows of pink ones, which were sugar pills I knew, imbedded in it. Each of the pills was in a spot marked with the day of the week. I picked it up for a second, seeing both that she was current and that she was not due for her period for more than a week. I smiled.
I would have had to come up with another plan if she had not been on some sort of birth control. And being able to predict her period was a bonus I hadnโt counted on. When I emerged from the bathroom she was putting her clothes in the dresser. โAnita?โ I asked her as I folded up the ladder. โYes. โ She asked, turning towards me. โYou have Tracy coming over to baby-sit on Saturday, donโt you?โShe creased her brow a little. โYes,โ She nodded. โYour mother said she would. โ โWell,โ I said, carefully, โThe fact is that Tracy had plans for that night and my mom kinda ruined them by volunteering her to baby-sit. โAnitaโs face immediately turned to distress. โOh my goodness. โ She said. โI had no idea that Tracy had plans. If Iโd of known that I never would have asked your mother.
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โ She shook her head. โYour mother told me that sheโd be happy to baby-sit. โโYeah,โ I agreed, โMomโs like that sometimes. โโWell Iโll just cancel my plans. โ She announced. โI donโt want to make Tracy miss her party. Especially after all sheโs done for me in the past. And you kids never accept any money for what you do. โโWell, you donโt have to cancel your plans. โ I told her. โI talked to Tracy about it and I donโt have anything to do on Saturday. I thought maybe I could take her place. That way both of you could go to your parties. โโYou?โ She said doubtfully. โWhy not?โ I said.
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โI like your kids a lot, and they like me. I can take care of them all right. Weโll have fun. โIt took a few more minutes but finally I convinced her. Shortly after that I went home. But I wouldnโt be home for long. When I walked in the door Mom and Dad were both home. Mom was cooking up something in the kitchen. It smelled like steak. Dad was watching the news on television. I gave him a quick hello and headed directly for mom. She would be the authority on the subject I was about to discuss. It took ten minutes and a phone call to Anita but I secured her permission to baby-sit Anitaโs kids in Tracyโs place. She was doubtful about the plan and I knew she would probably call every ten minutes while I was over there, but I was able to wear her down. With a smile on my face, I headed upstairs.
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I paused at Tracyโs room and gave a knock on the door. From behind it came the sound of Rick Springfield again. The music turned down and the door creaked open. She looked at me. โLooks like youโre gonna be partying on Saturday. โ I told her. โYou convinced them?โ She asked in disbelief. โPutty in my hands. โ I assured her. โOh thank you!โ She squealed, pulling me to her and giving me a big hug. She drew back and looked at me. โYou know Billy,โ She said. โSometimes youโre not such a little asshole after all. โโIโll take that as a compliment Trace. โ I told her, walking away.
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I entered my room as happy as Iโd been in a while. After dinner I went upstairs and took a shower, cleansing my body and making sure to brush my teeth and use plenty of mouthwash. I put on the tightest pair of pants that I could find, a pair that hugged my lower body like a second skin. I put on a clean sweater and combed my hair. I checked my watch. 6:40. Almost an hour and a half to go. I pulled out my books and began studying. At 8:30 I had completed all of my homework and stowed it neatly away in my backpack. I went to Tracyโs room and knocked on the door. She opened it. โCan I use your phone a minute Trace?โ I asked. โSure. โ She said, waving me inside. She had been doing her homework I saw.
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Her Biology book and a spread of .
