The Box - 3. Chapter 3

July 3, 1999

“Your brother is kind of cute,” Wade said to Matt after we piled into the limo.

“You think so, eh?” Matt asked him, pretending to be jealous.

“Yeah. Think he's into guys? Older guys?” Wade asked, playing with him.

“I certainly hope so,” I said, jumping in. They all laughed. “Can we finally get out of here so I can read the diary?”

“Maybe we should organize it first?” Brad asked.

I looked at him, and all the others, sensing how anxious they were to hear what Steven wrote. This was really the only piece of my father that I had, so there was no way I was going to cede it to some committee. “I am going to read it first. Then, if it needs to be organized, we will give it to Wade and JP.” Matt chuckled and JP just rolled his eyes.

“So what are the rest of us supposed to do, just watch you read?” Brad asked.

“I can think of things,” I said with a leer. “You can exercise your partner to make sure he does not get fatter.” Robbie had an amazing body, hard as a rock underneath but with a smooth layer of fat on top. Just like his uncle, I thought ruefully. He wasn't fat at all, but it gave us something to tease him about, and it really pissed him off.

“I am not fat,” he said assertively, which made us all laugh.

“I may deign to read you an excerpt or two,” I said to them airily. That got me growls and dirty looks, but I ignored them. We got to the plane and got settled in for our flight. While everyone else broke into the food we'd ordered for our flight, I sat down with my briefcase and took out my father's diary. I scanned it briefly, and then picked up the letters that were there.

“Who are those from?” Brad asked. It was killing him not to be reading them.

“I do not know,” I said. I'd tortured him enough. “Here,” I said handing them to him. “Put them in date order and I will read the journal entries. Then when a letter comes up, we can read that.”

“You got it,” he said, smiling. Sometimes these people, as much as I loved them, were a big pain in the ass. Then I sat down and started reading aloud.

May 27, 1941

Happy fucking birthday. What a shitty day. My mom is worried that I'm repressing all of my feelings so she bought me this diary. What a bunch of bullshit. I'm the sanest one in this whole fucking house. But I'm sixteen years old and I don't have a car, all because my tightwad dad thinks I need to earn part of the money for it. We're like the richest fucking people in town and he won't buy me a car. So my day, which started out shitty, ended shitty too.

First there were finals. I had English today, but I wasn't too worried about that. The teacher, some old guy named Mr. Harkins, is as queer as a three dollar bill. I flirt with him and he likes me. My best friend Aaron is meaner. He'll sit there in class and subtly rub his crotch, getting himself semi-hard so Harkins can see part of the outline of his dick. Then Harkins will stammer and stutter in the middle of his lesson. What a punk.

After that I had Geometry. I'm normally pretty good at that, but the test was a fucking bitch, just like the teacher. Old Mrs. Doggerty, fucking cunt. No way flirting would help her out. She's so old she's probably dried up and forgotten what a man is anyway.

Aaron and I goofed off after school and I borrowed my mom's car to go cruising around. It’s massive, this huge 1939 Chrysler, but the son of a bitch could go if you kicked it. It was way too big for me. My dad's was even bigger. He just got a brand new Chrysler Imperial, a big fucking sedan. The thing could hold half the town. I don't know what it was with big cars and these people. My grandfather didn't drive anymore, but he had a big Chrysler limo. His chauffeur, Randolph, usually drove me to school. So I was all kicked up, thinking that today when he dropped me off, it would be my last day before I could drive myself. Mom was due for a new car, and I'd been hoping they'd get one for her and one for me.

Mom had a big dinner planned and invited my aunt and uncle down, along with my cousins. Plus Aaron. He's always invited. My uncle is all about business and pretty square. His gig is construction. My aunt is beautiful, a real Able-Grable. Damn. Aaron is always joking about how he'd do her in a minute. Then there are my two cousins. Jim is my age and kind of an asshole. He thinks he's cool as shit. His birthday was last month and he got a Buick convertible. Lucky bastard. Then there's my younger cousin, JP. He's like five years old now and plays with my little brother, Billy; they're the same age. JP is kind of weird. He's real small, and blond, and he just hangs out and stares at me. He hardly ever says anything. A couple of weeks ago he was over here and he skinned his knee, fucking bleeding everywhere. Billy would have been a total pussy, crying like a baby, but JP didn't shed a tear. That kid is fucked up, which is kind of a shame, cause he's pretty cute.

1999

I stopped reading because we were all laughing so hard, all of us except JP, who looked like he'd been punched in the stomach. He really was so much more sensitive than everyone thought. “If he could see you now, he would be impressed,” I said, shutting everyone up and getting one of those looks from him, those priceless looks, that told me how much he loved me and how good we were as a team. I'd mastered the art of dealing with his weird insecurities. I'd learned just how much to tease him without pissing him off, and I knew when to step in and save him when the others piled on.

“Hey, at least he thought you were cute,” Matt added helpfully, then leered at JP. “I think you're cute too.” JP just shook his head. Before they could give him any more shit, I started reading again.

1941

I didn't want a party with a bunch of people, but my family pretty much makes it a big party anyway. My mom's parents were there too. They're about as much fun as watching paint dry. The worst times are when we have to go stay over there. They have this big huge brick house a block away, they call it Tudor style, and the place is always totally silent. Neither one of them has an emotion in their whole body. They're like these rigid people who never smile. During dinner, Aaron leaned over and whispered “I wonder if your grandfather smiles when he blows his load,” cracking me up. I'll bet he doesn't. My dad's mom is dead, but my grandpa is still alive. He's a really nice guy. Sometimes I goof off with him and he tells me all these stories about when he was younger and shit or he'll tell me funny gossip that he heard during court cases. He used to be the local judge, but he's retired and my dad does that now. I'm supposed to follow in his footsteps. We'll see about that.

We did the whole cake deal, and everyone sang to me badly except Aaron. Damn, he has a beautiful voice. Then I got to open presents. I got some cool stuff, but the two best things I got I'm using now. I got this box from my mom. It has a little key to open it, so I'll have to find a place to put it so I don't lose it. It's the only key, and there's this strange set up so if you break it open some acid shit comes out and dissolves everything inside. Not a good place to store money, that's for sure. Anyway, inside is this diary. She told me later that she thought it would be nice for me to have a way to express my thoughts. She's always giving me shit for being all closed and unemotional. She should give one of these to JP. So this is my first diary entry, a long one, but I guess I can write down anything and not worry about it falling into the wrong hands, like my goofy little brother's.

The other cool thing is what I'm writing this with, a pen that Aaron got me. It's a really nice pen, and probably pretty expensive. I almost feel guilty because I know he doesn't have much money, and neither do his parents. His dad works at the mill and his mom stays home to raise her six sons. Aaron is the oldest, followed by his brother, Nathan, who's a year younger. Nathan's a good guy too, but not as good of a friend as Aaron. No one is as good of a friend as Aaron. They live in this shotgun house with three bedrooms and one bathroom over in East Claremont. It's pretty gritty, the neighborhood, but his dad has the house fixed up real nice. I like going over there. It feels so, well, masculine. All boys except his mom, but she's a hoot: she just gives them all a bunch of crap and they laugh at her. And they all eat like horses, so the poor woman is always cooking. Aaron works his ass off; he's saving money for a car. He must have taken some of that cash to buy this for me.

That was all nice, but it wasn't what I really wanted. I was really hoping they'd get me a car, I kind of expected it. I know that sounds like a crap thing to say, but my family is loaded, and everyone sort of expects it too. So tomorrow I have to go to class and see a bunch of my friends and they'll ask me what I got and I'll have to tell them the truth: I didn't get a car. And all because of my fucking tightwad father. He gave me this cheerful spiel about how he lined up a job for me at the courthouse for the summer, and that I'll be able to earn enough money to buy my own car by the end of it. I didn't really know what to say to that. I was so pissed off, but if I said something, I'd look like a total creep. So I sat there and stewed about it for a few seconds until I looked around the table and saw the looks he was getting. My grandparents, all three of them, were staring at him with this disapproving look. My aunt and uncle were looking at me all sympathetically, while Jim was gloating, which made me want to jump across the table and beat the shit out of him. I was just about to lose it when I looked at my mother. She wasn't upset, she wasn't worried, she was pissed off, really pissed off.

You have to know my mother to really understand this. She's a spitfire. She doesn't take shit from anyone, and she goes full speed ahead all the time. If you don't move, she'll knock you over. She's always working on some cause or another, and pisses off all but the most enlightened of the townspeople. She runs the school board with an iron fist, and she wanted to build a new school for the coloreds. I thought we were gonna have crosses burned on our lawn. My father looked over at her and I saw him look nervous. After that, I relaxed. I knew she'd make it all right. She always does.

The party was shitty. The whole thing after that was shitty. Aaron, Jim, and I agitated the gravel and went to goof off at Danny's Malte Shoppe, where I got a bunch of shit for not getting a new car. Aaron was the only one who was sympathetic. “You'll end up with something,” he'd told me. “Your mom will work it out.” I wasn't so sure.

I got home later in a really bad mood, only to hear really loud voices coming from the study. I walked up to the door and listened, although I really didn't have to. Our house is this old Victorian monster. It's fucking huge, but I probably could have heard them in my room.

The first person who I heard was my dad, talking loudly but not yelling. “I just wanted to teach him some responsibility, so he doesn't grow up to be a spoiled asshole like Jim.” That almost made me laugh out loud.

“That's a bunch of bullshit,” Mom yelled back. “He's not like that, it's not him. You're just a tight ass. You're too God damn cheap to spend the money!”

“That's not fair!” he said, more loudly.

“Oh yeah? Well how about this. How about if you spend a little less money on your whores, then you won't have to worry about it!” she screamed. There was silence. “You think I don't know about that? You think I'm fucking blind?!” I just stood there, stunned. My father was fucking around on my mom, and she said ‘fuck’. Holy shit.

“I don't know what you think you know or not, but that's not true!” he said all self-righteously.

“Don't insult my intelligence, you asshole!” she screamed. Then she paused, a long pause, and I knew what was happening. She was glaring at him, and he was there cowering in front of her. “I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. Tomorrow, I'm taking Steve out and we're going car shopping. I'm going to buy him a car, a big fucking expensive car. And then I'm going to buy one for myself. I'm going to spend as much money as I can. Then maybe I'll go clothes shopping. And maybe I'll donate some money to charity. By this time tomorrow night, you're going to be a lot poorer!”

“You can't go spend all my money!” he yelled.

“It's not your money. I brought more money into this marriage than you did, so you can kiss my ass!” she yelled. There was silence.

“Fine, go spend us into penury. Go ahead. Do what you want,” he said, being a smart ass.

“I will. And you know what? I don't think we'll get Chryslers either.” I could just imagine him glaring at her over that. We always bought Chrysler products. It was an unwritten rule. The Cramptons always bought GM products, that's why Jim got a Buick. I kind of got excited about that, broadening the horizons of what I could get. If she followed through on that, it would sure cause some tongues to wag.

“Now you're just trying to piss me off,” he snarled.

“Oh, I haven't even started to piss you off. You have no idea what's heading your way,” she threatened.

“You're going to spend me into oblivion, isn't that enough?” he demanded.

There was a long pause. I could hear her stomping around the room, collecting her thoughts. “I'm going to say this to you once, and I'm never saying it again. You're going to make a decision right here, right now. You give up your whores, or else,” she snarled.

“Or else what?” he demanded.

“Or else I'm going to fuck the whole God damn town!” she screamed.

“You wouldn't do that!” he said.

“You wanna bet? You think I'm too ugly? You telling me I can't attract men? Well, maybe we'll have to find out about that,” she said. I'd never thought about my mom like that before, as a woman, but she was good looking for an older broad. “So you listen to me Barry Schluter. I find out you so much as kissed another woman, I'm going to either divorce your sorry ass, or I'm going to fuck the whole town. Do you understand me?”

“Gail...” he started.

“Answer the God damn question! Do you understand me?!”

“Yes,” he muttered.

I heard her steps coming toward the door and I barely had time to hide around the corner. She was gone for a few minutes then she came storming back. I peeked around the corner and saw her carrying a pillow and a blanket, which she threw at him. “Your worthless ass can sleep down here!” she said, and then she stormed back out again.

I waited for things to settle down then snuck up here to my room to write this before I forgot any details. Sometimes my mom is a pain in the ass, and I know not to cross her, but she always makes things right. I really admire her, but I feel kinda sorry for my dad.

1999

“Wow,” Brad said. “Definitely sounds like Tonto.”

“It does. She didn't take crap from anyone,” JP said. “But if she liked you, she'd fight like hell for you.”

“She liked me,” Robbie said with a smile. “Fat and all.”

“Maybe she just pretended to like you,” Matt said, teasing him.

“No, she liked him,” Brad said. He gazed lovingly at Robbie. “I'll never forget how she went with us to the hospital to pick you up.” He explained that to Matt and Wade. “Robbie's mom was trying to haul him off to Jesus school and she wouldn't let me see him. So on the morning they were going to go pick him up, Tonto went along to make it a big group thing, that way I got to go along too.”

“And she's the one who dragged me down to see you on Spring Break,” Robbie said. “That's when we first got back together, more or less.”

“She's the one who stood by me when I first came out. Slapped my father hard for being a bigot,” JP said, as we reminisced about this amazing woman.

“I remember when she caught me blowing my English tutor,” I told them, thinking back to that moment. “She scared the poor man to death.” They all laughed at my slutty ways. “I remember him running out of the house with her screaming after him. But when she calmed down, and we talked, it brought us closer together than ever before. She never carried a grudge.”

“Except against my mother,” Robbie said. “Can't blame her for that.”

“Your mom wasn't what I expected,” Matt said.

“That must have been really strange for you, meeting your grandmother like that,” JP said. “I wish it could have been under better circumstances, but I don't think it would have made much difference.”

“It's really not a big deal. I have you guys, I have my parents, I have Frank, and most of all, I have Wade,” Matt said, looking at Wade. “That's all I'll ever need.”

“I'm torn. On the one hand, I want to hear Stef read the diary, but on the other, I really want to fuck your brains out,” Wade said to Matt, cracking us up.

“Plenty of time for sex in Bermuda,” Brad said. “Read on.”

May 28, 1941

As shitty as yesterday was, today was dynamite! I had two finals today and kicked ass on both of them. The first was Chemistry. I should pull an “A” in there, even though Aaron and I almost blew up the lab. The second was History. It was easy, because we're doing current stuff, and it's a pretty scary time right now, but also really interesting. For my birthday, the English sank that big-ass German battleship, the Bismarck. Of course, it blew up one of theirs first. Lucky for the Germans they weren't going up against our Navy. We'd kick their fucking asses. That was kind of strange too, because there was a lot of anti-German feeling out there, and I had a German last name and way back, a German heritage, but I was pulling for the English. It looked like we'd be in this thing soon enough anyway, at least to me, and we all knew it would be on the English side.

What the fuck was wrong with England anyway? They were getting their asses kicked all over the place. First it was Dunkirk, where the big victory was getting away, then they got the shit bombed out of them, and now they were getting their asses kicked in Greece and Crete. Did they forget how to win a battle? Were their generals that fucking stupid? At least they could still beat the Italians. But who couldn't?

Anyway, so I was ready to leave school with Aaron and my mom pulls up in her monster Chrysler and tells us both to get in. She tells me that we're going car shopping, but instead of going to the Chrysler dealer, she goes to the Packard dealer. We'd never gone there before, and they were shocked as shit to see her in there. She traded in her car and bought us both Packard convertibles. She bought me a Packard 6, and herself a Packard 8. I was expecting a Plymouth, which would have cost around a grand, but this one was closer to $1500. Hers was way more expensive than that.

“You're really trying to piss Dad off,” I told her as she was signing the papers.

“You damn well better believe I am,” she said.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you,” I told her, and meant it.

“I love you too. And so does your father. He's just being a tight ass,” she said.

Aaron and I went back to Danny's Malte Shoppe and goofed around. No one my age had a Packard. No one. It was like a super luxury car. So I was gammin' it up a bit, showing off, especially when Jim got there. The coolest thing was seeing him turn green with envy. Jim got so pissed off he had to leave. I got back home and left my car outside to show my grandfather. He loved it, made me take him for a ride.

“Don't be mad at your father,” he told me. “He means well. But your mother did the right thing. It isn't right for you to be without a car.”

I had expected a huge blow-up at dinner, and I'd really braced myself for it. My dad came in, looking all pissed off, but when he looked around the table and saw that he was all alone, he backed off. My mother wasn't done torturing him.

“We went and bought new cars today,” she announced.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said diplomatically, trying to acknowledge his unwilling contribution.

“What did you get?” he asked, ignoring me.

“We got almost matching Packard convertibles,” she said with this smarmy attitude, baiting him.

“Packards eh,” he said calmly. We ate on in silence. “What color is yours?” he asked me.

“Bright red,” I said smiling.

“And yours?” he asked Mother.

“Yellow. It's quite pretty, and just in time for the lovely weather,” she said, only her tone was nicer.

“You'll have to take me for a ride later,” he said. So after dinner, I let my dad drive me around in my new car.

“I'm sorry I didn't get you a car,” he'd said. “I guess I worry that you'll end up like Jim, and that's not fair. You're a good son, and I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” was all I could say. The fucker made me fucking cry. I love my parents, but they are emotionally draining.

May 31, 1941

School was officially over now, it was summer! Fuck yeah! We had a big dance tonight, and I took Kim Alpers. It took me like a month to build up the nerve to ask her, and I only did it after all my friends had made sure she'd say yes. We'd been kind of hanging out at Danny's, and she was really sweet and really nice to me. Plus she was a fucking wet dream. She had long blond hair that she usually kept in a ponytail, really pretty green eyes, and boobs that weren't too big or too small, they were just right. And her legs, man are they it. So smooth and sexy, and so long. She was sitting there tonight in the car and the convertible top was down and the wind whipped her skirt up so I could see her thighs. I almost creamed my pants and wrecked the car.

Alright, so I had to take a break and whack off. I'm back now. God, she's keen. I took her out to dinner and I know I was really nervous, but she talked and kept things fun. We spent most of the night jitterbugging, really hoofing it up. But they had a few slow songs, and she actually danced two slow dances with me. I was so hard I knew I was tenting, and then she moved in real close, rubbing her body against my dick. I was about a second away from shooting a wad right there, except the chaperones tapped us on the back.

After the dance, I wasn't sure what to do. I wanted to go somewhere and see if she'd let me kiss her, but I didn't really know how to do that. She did it for me, asking me if I wanted to see the lights at night. I drove up Skyline and found this spot that Aaron had told me about. We stared out at the twinkling lights of Claremont and I got the nerve to put my arm around her. She was so cool, she just moved over, closer to me; like she was cold and she wanted me to warm her up. I was so nervous I thought I was gonna spew, but I looked down at her, and she was so pretty and so sweet, it was like some other force took over and I leaned down and kissed her. And she kissed me back. We made out like that for a while and I felt something against my lips and it was her tongue. I opened my mouth and then we started French kissing. I don't think I was very good at it, because she kept sort of guiding me, not saying shit, just with her lips, but after a few minutes I got the knack. At least I think I did.

She got me so fucking horny I lost track of what I was doing and I moved my hand up to feel her breast. She pulled away from me and looked in my eye, then pulled me back down to kiss her again. She let me play with her tits! She let me touch and squeeze them, even let me loosen her bra so I could play with them. Then I fucked up. The hormones took over and I put my hand on her thigh and started moving up, hoping that she'd let me fuck her. But she stopped me, grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “I think you should take me home now,” she'd said firmly.

“Alright. I'm really sorry. I just got carried away. You are just so keen,” I'd told her.

“It's alright, Steve. I'm just not that kind of girl,” she'd said with a smile.

“I know. That's why I feel bad,” I told her. I thought I'd blown it, that she'd never go out with me again, but when we got to her house, she let me kiss her on the cheek.

“Uh, if you don't have plans, uh, tomorrow, uh, do you want to do something?” I stammered nervously right before she got out of the car. I remember closing my eyes so I wouldn't have to see her face when she rejected me.

“I'd love to, Steve. Pick me up at 6:00?” she said.

“Sure,” I said, and knew I was grinning from ear to ear. Then she gave me another kiss on the cheek and went inside. I really like her.

1999

“So he ended up with his car after all,” Brad observed. “I never knew Barry was such a tightwad.”

“Neither did I,” I observed. “They bought me a condo, JP's old one in Chicago, when I graduated from college. They never gave me any problems about money.”

“Maybe having your father die changed things for him,” JP said. “Maybe it made him re-assess what was important in life.”

“Sometimes you don't appreciate something until you lose it,” Robbie said, looking at Brad. We all agreed. Just reading those few entries had been an emotional roller-coaster, and combined with the festival, I was finished for the day. I put everything back carefully and sealed up my case.

The pilots flew low, as low as air traffic control would allow, while we flew over Washington. We timed it just right so we could see the fireworks, and the pilots made a sweeping turn to keep them in view until they ended.

“I've never seen fireworks from the air,” Wade said.

“You think those fireworks were good? Let me show you some real ones,” Matt said with a leer. Then he looked at me. “Can we use one of the sleeping compartments?”

“No,” I said. “I would rather you stay here so I can watch.” He knew I was kidding, so he led Wade off.

“They seem totally in love,” Brad said. “I hope nothing screws them up.”

“They're strong,” Robbie said. “They'll be just fine.”

“We were strong too, and it didn't save us from some rough roads,” Brad told him. I could still hear the bitterness in his tone. I'd never seen Brad repress his feelings as well as he did back then, in the mid 80s, when he and Robbie weren't together. It hurt him so bad it hurt me too.

“I think they are smarter than you two,” JP observed sagely. They looked at him, all pissed off, but decided to laugh it off. It wasn't that they were smarter; it was that Robbie was more fucked up. Wade was so impressive. Unlike Robbie, he'd actually gone out and sought help, counseling, to work through his issues. Here was the result. He was happy and grounded, while Robbie had gone off with Neil.

“I'll still bet I can show you fireworks as good as the ones they're seeing,” Brad told him. Robbie blushed and followed him back to the other sleeping cabin.

“Well,” I said to JP, “it looks like you and I will just have to fuck out here.”

“I'd rather wait until we get to Bermuda,” he said. “It will be more romantic.”

I laughed. “You see how old we are getting. We cannot even keep up with these young guys.”

“I don't know Stef. I like this,” he said. He put his arm around me and I leaned into him. “We still have great sex, but I love these times where it's just us, together.”

“You are so charming these days,” I said, teasing him. “You do not have to work that hard to get me in bed.”

“I've always been charming, and it's never been work to get you in bed. After we're there, then maybe...” he joked back. “This must be weird for you, reading your father's inner thoughts,” he said, changing the subject.

“I never met him, and now, I feel like I have,” I told him. Then I just sank into JP and dozed off. I'd read more tomorrow.