really Tommy, crazy Tommy.”
I’ve started to dry myself when Tom’s attention suddenly moves over into the corner where Ari is turning his back to us, trying to dress hurriedly, the sweat glistening on his broad shoulders.
“Ari! The showers!” Tom orders, giving us a wink and flashing his big white teeth in a wicked smile.
But Ari is not going to take a shower; Ari is dressing fast with trembling hands; Ari is in a hurry; he wants to get out of here as quickly as he can. But Tom is on the move, and nobody stops Tom the Tough Guy when he’s on the move, least of all the Pineapple.
Tom jumps up on the bench and places himself in front of Ari and is going to order him to take a shower, but something makes him suddenly silent and dumbstruck. He raises his head and gives the rest of us a wide-eyed look.
“Take a look at that!” he shouts. “Ari has pubes!”
The whistling and shouting is overwhelming when Tom jumps to the floor, grasps Ari’s shoulders, and tries to turn him to show us. But Ari is immovable. So Tom grabs Ari’s underwear, which Ari is desperately trying to jerk up his sweaty legs, and pulls them down. Tom points at him, giggling and squeaking, and everyone joins in, bending backward laughing, pointing at Ari. But Ari doesn’t want to turn around and fights with Tom, trying to pull his pants up as his milky-white buttocks tremble and shake, but Tom pulls even harder. Then finally the mountain moves and Ari turns, rosy-pink with tits like a girl and hips like a woman, utterly defenseless at the mercy of the mob. And it’s true: he has pubic hair already. And a bit more than that — he’s really furry. He’s like a mammoth between his legs. He snatches a sneaker and tries to hit Tom, who moves quickly to the side, light and swift, and Ari’s awkward defense tactic, with his pants around his ankles, mammoth fur between his legs, and one sneaker in his hand, is just extra fuel for the screams of laughter. It’s so good when somebody else is exposed. You feel so safe. Then you’re one of the group, not outside it. Still, I can’t laugh. I’m trying to get dressed before Sandra arrives.
Then the door is thrown open and she bursts in, shouting.
“What the hell is going on in here?” And in an instant all the boys grab their insignificant little bald peckers and run screaming like girls into the showers, but I close my eyes so I don’t have to see Sandra’s face.
She turns to Ari, who is crying now. “Leave me alone,” he growls, and then he dresses, whimpering and sniffling. Then Sandra goes into the showers with her iron pole, orders the boys to wash properly, and asks who was teasing Ari.
I throw all my gym things into my bag and run out, relieved to have avoided seeing her face, and I don’t slow down until I’m on my street. How did Ari manage to hide this for such a long time? It hardly grows overnight! He must have been avoiding the showers since this started. And now I understand why he’s been smirking every time Raxel throws him out in the middle of gym! So he could dress without fearing exposure. Poor Ari. Not only is he ridiculed for being silent and shy and unable to move and his family having a stupid name, but he is also the first one in our class to have pubic hair. And a dense jungle as well.
I wonder if it itches.
Outside my front door, a girl steps out of a taxi. She’s sixteen or seventeen or something. She opens up the trunk and takes out a huge suitcase and a bulging sports bag. The cab leaves, and the girl stands by the front door and presses the doorbell. It’s like she’s coming from a warmer climate. She’s wearing a very short skirt, black tights on her long legs, and open shoes with thick soles. Her dark hair falls over her shoulder, and besides that, she is wearing a black T-shirt that is far too tight and short; her belly is bare. On her arms are loads of bracelets that jingle when she moves, and in one ear is an earring that dangles at her neck
I’ve started to dry myself when Tom’s attention suddenly moves over into the corner where Ari is turning his back to us, trying to dress hurriedly, the sweat glistening on his broad shoulders.
“Ari! The showers!” Tom orders, giving us a wink and flashing his big white teeth in a wicked smile.
But Ari is not going to take a shower; Ari is dressing fast with trembling hands; Ari is in a hurry; he wants to get out of here as quickly as he can. But Tom is on the move, and nobody stops Tom the Tough Guy when he’s on the move, least of all the Pineapple.
Tom jumps up on the bench and places himself in front of Ari and is going to order him to take a shower, but something makes him suddenly silent and dumbstruck. He raises his head and gives the rest of us a wide-eyed look.
“Take a look at that!” he shouts. “Ari has pubes!”
The whistling and shouting is overwhelming when Tom jumps to the floor, grasps Ari’s shoulders, and tries to turn him to show us. But Ari is immovable. So Tom grabs Ari’s underwear, which Ari is desperately trying to jerk up his sweaty legs, and pulls them down. Tom points at him, giggling and squeaking, and everyone joins in, bending backward laughing, pointing at Ari. But Ari doesn’t want to turn around and fights with Tom, trying to pull his pants up as his milky-white buttocks tremble and shake, but Tom pulls even harder. Then finally the mountain moves and Ari turns, rosy-pink with tits like a girl and hips like a woman, utterly defenseless at the mercy of the mob. And it’s true: he has pubic hair already. And a bit more than that — he’s really furry. He’s like a mammoth between his legs. He snatches a sneaker and tries to hit Tom, who moves quickly to the side, light and swift, and Ari’s awkward defense tactic, with his pants around his ankles, mammoth fur between his legs, and one sneaker in his hand, is just extra fuel for the screams of laughter. It’s so good when somebody else is exposed. You feel so safe. Then you’re one of the group, not outside it. Still, I can’t laugh. I’m trying to get dressed before Sandra arrives.
Then the door is thrown open and she bursts in, shouting.
“What the hell is going on in here?” And in an instant all the boys grab their insignificant little bald peckers and run screaming like girls into the showers, but I close my eyes so I don’t have to see Sandra’s face.
She turns to Ari, who is crying now. “Leave me alone,” he growls, and then he dresses, whimpering and sniffling. Then Sandra goes into the showers with her iron pole, orders the boys to wash properly, and asks who was teasing Ari.
I throw all my gym things into my bag and run out, relieved to have avoided seeing her face, and I don’t slow down until I’m on my street. How did Ari manage to hide this for such a long time? It hardly grows overnight! He must have been avoiding the showers since this started. And now I understand why he’s been smirking every time Raxel throws him out in the middle of gym! So he could dress without fearing exposure. Poor Ari. Not only is he ridiculed for being silent and shy and unable to move and his family having a stupid name, but he is also the first one in our class to have pubic hair. And a dense jungle as well.
I wonder if it itches.
Outside my front door, a girl steps out of a taxi. She’s sixteen or seventeen or something. She opens up the trunk and takes out a huge suitcase and a bulging sports bag. The cab leaves, and the girl stands by the front door and presses the doorbell. It’s like she’s coming from a warmer climate. She’s wearing a very short skirt, black tights on her long legs, and open shoes with thick soles. Her dark hair falls over her shoulder, and besides that, she is wearing a black T-shirt that is far too tight and short; her belly is bare. On her arms are loads of bracelets that jingle when she moves, and in one ear is an earring that dangles at her neck
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