Sissy Godiva by Mykola Dementiuk

I sure as hell don’t want to be around that.”
We continued walking on 5 th Street, past Avenue A, the seedy tenements all around us.
“A heart attack? You really think so?”
“Well, maybe a stroke. Same difference.”
“A stroke? What’s a stroke?” I’d never heard that term before.
She stopped and looked at me. “You’re kidding, right?” I didn’t reply. “No, I guess you’re not,” she started walking again. “A stroke is like a heart attack but it affects your brain. A part of your brain stops working and it leaves you like a jellyfish, all wishy-washy, really useless. That’s what happened to my uncle a year and a half ago, and he still pisses and shits in his pants like a worthless baby. Ugh, it’s absolutely gross!”
At 5 th Street we turned onto Avenue C. A few pushcarts were still around, selling plates, beat-up lamps, other housewares. We made our way to 2 nd Street and Sissy stopped in front of a building. Some kids were sitting at the top of the stoop, looking down at us.
“This is my building,” Sissy said quietly, frowning up at the kids. They were thirteen, fourteen, a few years younger than us. “I’d invite you in, but my father’s probably home. Since it’s Friday he’s probably drunk.” She sighed and looked back up at the kids. “I’ll be back down after I change, in five, ten minutes. Wait for me, we’ll do something.” She winked and ran up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs a big boy, much older than the rest of the kids, probably eighteen or nineteen like us, was tossing a baseball from hand to hand. “Hey, you dick pussy,” he said, “ready to give me a blowjob?”
The three or four other boys around him howled and laughed. But Sissy must have said something to him because they shut up as she flung the door open and disappeared inside. Then they started howling again.
I turned away from them and looked down the street. The boys kept howling. Damn, I wished I was back home and away from them.
“Hey,” I heard behind me, “I’m talking to you!”
I turned and looked up. The big boy was standing, still tossing his ball from hand to hand.
“Who, me?” I mumbled, wanting to run away.
“Yeah you,” he sneered down at me. “Are you a faggot like him? Because if you are, you’d better give me a blowjob if you know what’s good for you.” The boys erupted again, then quieted, wanting to see what happened next. The older boy was tossing the ball a little harder now. It made a smacking sound each time it hit his palm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I just walked her home, that’s all.” He started down the stairs. I folded my arms and turned, looked down the street again. I heard his feet slapping on the steps.
He came up right next to me, having pocketed the ball. “Hey, you wanna know something,” he said, loud enough for the boys to hear. “That’s a queer. He may look like a she but that’s really a he . Take my advice, stay away from him, if you know what’s good for you.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me a few steps away. I wanted to shrug him off, but he was really strong.
“Hey, listen, pal,” he said quietly, glancing back at the boys. “She’s your friend? Then set me up with her, put in a good word for me, I wanna try her, too. I don’t care what she is. Man, she’s hot!” He rubbed his crotch, still holding my shoulders.
He walked me back and forth a while, telling me again and again to put in a good word, put in a good word . He looked up when the street door opened again and Sissy came out. She was wearing pink leggings and a purple sleeveless turtleneck; her hair was piled up thick and high. I thought it was a wig, but I didn’t know for sure. And she looked charming! She sneered at me and the big boy, then at the boys on the stairs as she made her way through them. The big boy scratched his crotch again. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide, but he didn’t say anything.
She put