now, or now. I don't know what I thought ir was going to be, or what it was supposed to mean it it did - I just thought now would be the perfect time.
But nothing happened. I just sat there and strained to hear the farthest-away sounds I could, and nothing happened. 1 took .mother swig of Carlos's whisky, and another, and I waited, and nothing.
Instead my brain was burning up with things I remembered from the day. That pickup truck going round in cireles, and the held where Netta and I dug up weeds, and Sammy's blackberries in a howl, and of course that long shooting flame coming out oi Verbena's big behind like a flamethrower. I looked down and realized 1 had the tinkers ot my two hands laced together.
I'd finished off the bottle, though it wasn't the whisky 1 was drunk on. It was all those pictures coming one after another in my brain, like in one of those action comics I'd always be reading in back of the classroom instead of paying attention. Pow! Crash! Zam! Piling up oik after another in each new frame till you couldn't tell who was beating up on who anymore. I'd hide the comic book down under my desk and take peeks at it all through class, and get a hard-on that I'd rub my arm against so nobody could tell what I was doing.
I stood up and tossed that empty whisky bottle as far as I could. It didn't shatter like I wanted it to, it just tell with a thud. It anything was happening in those woods, it was me.
Back at the trailer, my mom's car was gone. No surprise tor a Saturday night. Inside, everything was quiet. I guessed the two ^irls were asleep, but Ted should still be up. It was always ^ood to be with Ted—just to talk to him, because even though he was only fourteen he was sharp for a kid that age. He could put his finger on things. that I'd ever in a million years tell him about Carlos.
I started back toward the bedroom but then stopped. I miess my ears were still tuned to all th.it quiet outside, because with the bedroom dour closed the sound was so taint I'd probably just have barged in on it otherwise.
From the sound o\ it, Ted was drv humping the mattress. He must've been lyin^ on his stomach rubbing his dick against the sh. because he was really plowing away. The more I listened, the more I could hear. It made me want to laugh, but it also depressed the hell out of me. I stood there in the kitchen and listened to the noise my
D PAULRUSSELL
little brother was making, and now that I was paying attention I could feel the trailer shaking ever so little on its rickety foundations.
My little brother getting his rocks off. It was an odd thing. The bed just creaked away, a regular motion that sounded like plain hard work, and then I heard him groan, this really loud groan like he was totally cutting loose when he came, and that was it. I couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't stand the thought of all those days jerking off in Owen, days stretching out as far as I could see, one after the other and each one jerking off and jerking off. I bolted without letting Ted even know I was ever in that trailer.
I was totally calm, like I was watching everything from a distance—which is maybe a dumb thing to say but it's true. I remember thinking—it was very clear in my head—I'm not going to see anv oi this again: my mom's ashtray piled high with ashes, Ted's sneakers on the floor by the door, those stupid little colored-glass elephants inv mom kept on a shelf and that were always getting knocked of? and broken so most of them were missing a leg or a trunk. A door opening, and I walked through it and then it closed shut behind me.
□ PAUL RUSSELL
real world. I hadn't known that before—I could be in some spaceship or an underground cavern for all I know about what goes on outside.
About a month ago there was a thunderstorm. I could hear the thunder, but ot course I couldn't see any Lightning. It must've been a pretty violent episode, because the thunder was sharp and exploding right out of nowhere, not those
But nothing happened. I just sat there and strained to hear the farthest-away sounds I could, and nothing happened. 1 took .mother swig of Carlos's whisky, and another, and I waited, and nothing.
Instead my brain was burning up with things I remembered from the day. That pickup truck going round in cireles, and the held where Netta and I dug up weeds, and Sammy's blackberries in a howl, and of course that long shooting flame coming out oi Verbena's big behind like a flamethrower. I looked down and realized 1 had the tinkers ot my two hands laced together.
I'd finished off the bottle, though it wasn't the whisky 1 was drunk on. It was all those pictures coming one after another in my brain, like in one of those action comics I'd always be reading in back of the classroom instead of paying attention. Pow! Crash! Zam! Piling up oik after another in each new frame till you couldn't tell who was beating up on who anymore. I'd hide the comic book down under my desk and take peeks at it all through class, and get a hard-on that I'd rub my arm against so nobody could tell what I was doing.
I stood up and tossed that empty whisky bottle as far as I could. It didn't shatter like I wanted it to, it just tell with a thud. It anything was happening in those woods, it was me.
Back at the trailer, my mom's car was gone. No surprise tor a Saturday night. Inside, everything was quiet. I guessed the two ^irls were asleep, but Ted should still be up. It was always ^ood to be with Ted—just to talk to him, because even though he was only fourteen he was sharp for a kid that age. He could put his finger on things. that I'd ever in a million years tell him about Carlos.
I started back toward the bedroom but then stopped. I miess my ears were still tuned to all th.it quiet outside, because with the bedroom dour closed the sound was so taint I'd probably just have barged in on it otherwise.
From the sound o\ it, Ted was drv humping the mattress. He must've been lyin^ on his stomach rubbing his dick against the sh. because he was really plowing away. The more I listened, the more I could hear. It made me want to laugh, but it also depressed the hell out of me. I stood there in the kitchen and listened to the noise my
D PAULRUSSELL
little brother was making, and now that I was paying attention I could feel the trailer shaking ever so little on its rickety foundations.
My little brother getting his rocks off. It was an odd thing. The bed just creaked away, a regular motion that sounded like plain hard work, and then I heard him groan, this really loud groan like he was totally cutting loose when he came, and that was it. I couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't stand the thought of all those days jerking off in Owen, days stretching out as far as I could see, one after the other and each one jerking off and jerking off. I bolted without letting Ted even know I was ever in that trailer.
I was totally calm, like I was watching everything from a distance—which is maybe a dumb thing to say but it's true. I remember thinking—it was very clear in my head—I'm not going to see anv oi this again: my mom's ashtray piled high with ashes, Ted's sneakers on the floor by the door, those stupid little colored-glass elephants inv mom kept on a shelf and that were always getting knocked of? and broken so most of them were missing a leg or a trunk. A door opening, and I walked through it and then it closed shut behind me.
□ PAUL RUSSELL
real world. I hadn't known that before—I could be in some spaceship or an underground cavern for all I know about what goes on outside.
About a month ago there was a thunderstorm. I could hear the thunder, but ot course I couldn't see any Lightning. It must've been a pretty violent episode, because the thunder was sharp and exploding right out of nowhere, not those
Similar Books
