Remembering Tim - 17. Chapter 17 - Ricky

The nephews turned out to be seventeen-year-old, Ruben, and fifteen-year-old, Rick. Ortega was their last name. I thought I could practice my Spanish skills with them, but Rick said, “We’re from Illinois, Peoria, Illinois. The last person in our family to speak Spanish was our grandfather.”

Ruben was taller than me, over six feet at least, muscular like a quarterback, but didn’t act like a jock. His face was more round than long and his smile was natural. He had a California tan and straight black hair like mine, but his was long and pulled back into a ponytail that hung past his shoulders.

Rick was Ruben’s opposite. He was like me in many ways, not too tall, slender, neatly trimmed straight black hair, thin sensitive lips. His hands looked like they’d feel good caressing my naked body. The bulge in his jeans wasn’t too obvious, yet invited exploration. His ass was cuter than Johnny’s and Scott’s put together, not as cute as Tim’s, but very close.

“Come on in,” I said, leading them into the kitchen. “Could I get you something, a soda, ice tea, juice, water, I think we even have some imported water, whatever that is?”

“No, I’m fine,” Ruben said, sliding into the dinette.

I looked at Rick, but he just shrugged and sat opposite his brother.

“What’d you guys have in mind to do?” I asked, trying to keep my eyes off Rick, but knowing full well they were zeroed in on his crotch looking for some sign of what was hidden beneath the denim.

“You’re the guy from out of town, what do you want to do?” Ruben asked.

“I don’t know, how about the beach?”

“Mama won’t let us go to the beach, she says that’s where the pushers and junkies hang out,” Ruben said.

“Well, I don’t want to do the touristy shit,” I said.

“Good, we’ve been to Disneyland too many times,” Rick said.

“What do you guys normally do?” I asked. Rick just sat there, looking cuter than hell. I wanted to go over and sit next to him and lock my lips to his.

“Hang out mostly,” Rick said, shrugging and staring at the table.

“Shoot hoops when we get the chance,” Ruben said. “Or, go over to Julie’s to use their pool. She’s my girlfriend. You got a backboard?”

“I don’t think so, but we can look,” I said, heading toward the door. They came along like a couple of puppies. I went out to the driveway and followed it around the house. I’d never been back this way, so I didn’t know what to expect. The driveway expanded into a wide circle of asphalt. There was a four car garage that seemed to have an upstairs room, or something. But, there was no sign of a backboard.

“Damn, four cars,” Rick said, practically whispering. “What does your uncle drive?”

“I don’t know if he owns any cars,” I said. “I’ve only been here two days. Come on, let’s see what’s in the back.”

The two puppies followed me into what I thought was the backyard. It turned out to be a garden with lots of shrubs and flowers and stone paths, but at the bottom of the hill there was a pool and a sports court with a tennis net and two backboards.

“I don’t think we have a basketball,” I said.

“Oh, we got balls,” Rick said, suddenly blushing and turning his face away.

“Yeah, we got balls, but Mama sends Ricky with me so I don’t use mine. Right little brother?”

“Yeah, we don’t want you getting Julie pregnant, like she’d let you do her. She’s so Catholic, she dreams of becoming a nun, like Jennifer Jones.”

“She’s not that bad,” Ruben said.

“Who’s your girlfriend?” I asked, looking at Rick.

“He hasn’t got a girlfriend, he’s a fag,” Ruben said. He sneered it like it had two or three “a’s”, like faaag. Rick kind of hung his head and walked away. After a few yards, he took off running. I could’ve sworn it sounded like he was crying. Maybe that’s why Sugar wanted her nephews to meet me.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be back after he’s cried like a baby for a while,” Ruben said. You could almost hear the disgust in his voice, like he was ashamed of his brother. “So, what’s your girlfriend’s name?”

“Tim,” I said, looking directly at him.

“That’s a guy’s name.”

“Exactly.” His eyes did the “I’m not going to look at you” routine.

“Then you’re like …”

“Exactly, like Rick. So, I suppose you’ll be wanting to leave.”

“No, hey, look it’s cool,” Ruben said looking away from me. “It’s just that Ricky needs protecting because the guys don’t understand him, but if you’re queer, too, well that makes it okay, you know? Come on, let’s go get my basketball and we’ll stop and get Julie, too. Then you can hang with Ricky while me and Julie get it on, you know? You got any chips and snacks around here?”

“I’ll have to ask Bertrand,” I said, following Ruben back up to the house. I still didn’t know what to make of the way he said Rick was a fag. It sounded like he was disgusted, but suddenly it’s all different because I’m queer, too. Now, all I had to do was to get Rick to open up and maybe we could get it on as his brother said.

“Now, that guy is definitely a homo.”

“You know Bertrand?”

“Yeah, he and my uncle Stefan are like together all the time. I’ll wait out here and you can go in. No, I’ll be out in my car.”

“Then your uncle Stefan is the waitress at Jimmy’s?”

“Yeah, I mean that’s just too weird, you know?”

“She’s kind of nice.”

“No, hey, you queers are something else. A man dressed up like a girl, that’s just too weird. I mean she’s, I mean he’s, see you got me doing it. He’s cool and all, but acting like a girl is just strange.”

“Do me a favor and don’t tell Ricky about me, okay?”

“You call him Ricky and he’ll slug you. Yeah, you queers, you guys are just too weird.”

**********

I went into the house and began to search for Bertrand. Since I wasn’t certain what he did exactly, I had no idea where to find him. So, I just started going room to room, hoping I’d eventually find him, but after only two doors, I found his office where he was working at a typewriter. He looked up when I opened the door.

“Don’t you believe in knocking?” he asked. He didn’t have a shirt on. I couldn’t see any chest hair, but there were a lot of tanned muscles.

“I didn’t know where you were,” I said. “I can’t go around the house knocking on every closed door, can I?”

“What do you want?” It sound like he was mad at me, again.

“I’m sorry for barging in on you, but do we have any chips and dip, or crackers, or something like that?”

“No.”

“Well, can I get some?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t have a lot of money.”

“Walter didn’t talk about that, either?”

“No.”

“Okay, come with me and I’ll get you some.” He stood up and he was naked. He was half-hard, too. Being particularly interested in nice, long, uncut dicks, it was love at first sight. “Oh, sorry, let me get my robe.”

“You don’t have to on my account.” My eyes were locked on that beautiful piece of man flesh. I wanted my lips around it.

“Well, I’m not going to have you ogling.”

“Sorry,” I gasped, suddenly unable to breathe and talk at the same time. “It looks so, uh, nice, delicious.”

“Get away from me little boy.” He put on a baby blue terrycloth robe and tied it with a double bow. His cock was still evident, tenting the front of the robe.

“Were you working on anything important?”

“It’s a book I’m writing,” he said, heading for the door.

“You’re a writer?” I asked. I’d never met a writer before, hurrying to catch up. “Do you have anything published?”

“Yeah, six novels so far,” Bertrand said, he was heading upstairs. He had nice legs, too. His feet looked like they were used to being without shoes. “But, nothing you’d read.”

“What do you mean, I read lots of things.”

“Not my stuff.”

“How do you know?” I took my eyes off him. I couldn’t ogle and walk upstairs at the same time.

“You’re still a little boy. Little boys don’t read my books.”

“I’m not a little boy,” I almost yelled. “I’m sixteen years old.”

“You’re still too young to read my books. You can’t even buy them.”

“I could read them in a library. What’s your last name?”

“My books aren’t in libraries and, besides, I don’t use my real name on my books,” Bertrand said as he opened the door to his bedroom. I followed him in. It was very neat and tidy. There was a latex dildo on his nightstand next to a bottle of lube. “I write porn, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” I said, staring at the dildo. It was fairly realistic looking and even had what looked like a half of a scrotum with two huge testicles.

“Here’s a fifty, that should do you for a week or so,” Bertrand said, but I wasn’t listening. My ass was quivering in anticipation of having that thing up inside me. “Geoff, here’s your money. What the fuck? Oh, shit!”

He went over to his bed and put the dildo in the nightstand drawer.

“Geoff? Hey! Geoff!” He was nudging my shoulder.

“What? Huh? Oh, yeah, uh, sorry. You were saying? Something about pornography.”

“Here’s your money, now go away,” he said, but my mind was still trying to figure out a way to get that thing into my bedroom.

“Huh? What?”

“Geoff, like you said, you’re only sixteen,” he said, grabbing my hand and putting the fifty in it. He was close to me, very close, close enough for me to reach out and touch the lump under his robe.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I could smell him. It was a fresh scent, full of lavender.

“What?”

“You and my uncle, what is it you do?” His face was smooth, freshly shaved.

“I’m his personal assistant.”

“You said that.” His nostrils flared when he breathed.

“I take care of his personal business, like giving you money to go buy things.”

“Yeah, but …” His eyes sparkled.

“We stopped having sex eight years ago,” he said, almost like he was telling me a secret. “We get along a lot better when sex isn’t cluttering up our relationship. Okay?”

“Yeah, thanks, I was just wondering,” I said. He was closer now. I don’t know if I moved toward him or he moved toward me, but there were only inches between us. I was looking down at his toenails, they were trimmed and looked polished. I felt his hand lift my chin. He kissed me lightly, his soft lips barely touching mine.

“Now, go with your friends,” he said, stepping away from me. “You know, Geoff, you are okay. A few years older and, well, you’d be a lot more okay.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I didn’t want to leave, but really didn’t have much choice as he was practically pushing me out the door. At the stop of the stairs I stopped, and said, “Can we talk sometime?”

“Sure, maybe later tonight, okay?” Bertrand said, we were close, again. Then he smiled. “Go on, your friends are probably wondering if you’re coming at all. Oh, and get some hamburger, hot dogs, buns, oh, and a cabbage, too. I’ll make some coleslaw. Wait, I don’t think we have any pickles, either. I’ll start up the barbecue for lunch, okay?”

“Sure, thanks.”

Maybe Bertrand and I were going to be friends after all.

**********

When I got out to the car—it was a white over green ’56 Buick Roadmaster in need of body work—Ricky was sitting in the backseat. I climbed in with him and he gave me a questioning look.

“We’re going to get Julie, right?” I said, smiling. He looked away. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. “She’s going to need to sit up front with Ruben.”

“What took you?” Ruben asked, pulling up to the turnaround in front of the garage. “We were beginning to wonder.”

“We had to talk. I got a fifty. We need to get chips, dip, hamburger, a cabbage, hot dogs, buns, pickles, and whatever else you guys want. Bertrand said he’d fix lunch for us.”

“Well, then we definitely need to get Julie first,” Ruben said. “Girls are better at grocery shopping than boys. Now, you two in the back, I don’t want no kissing.”

“Ruben, shut up!” Ricky exclaimed. He blushed and turned away from me.

“Hey, Ricky, it’ll be okay,” I said placing my hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but didn’t try to get my hand away from him.

“A lot you know,” he said. “Everybody says it’ll be okay, but none of you understand.”

“I understand.”

“No you don’t. You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“No, I understand. I do. I know what it’s like to get shoved up against the lockers at school. I know what it’s like to have a stupid fucker grab the collar of my shirt and threaten to punch my lights out. I know what it’s like to have some asshole spit in my face. I know what it’s like to be called homo, queer, fag, pervert, and things that don’t even make sense. I know what it’s like to have a friend’s parents say I can’t be with him anymore because they’re afraid what I have might be catching. I know what it’s like when a father stops talking to you because he’s disgusted at what you are. And, you know what?”

“What?” He was staring at me as what I’d just said started to sink in.

“I know what it’s like to find out there’s at least one other boy in the world who is like me.” I smiled and caressed the back of his neck.

“You guys aren’t kissing are you?” Ruben asked looking in the rearview mirror.

“Ruben, please,” Ricky said. He looked at me. Then his eyes went away.

I was going to have to do something about Ruben’s insensitivity or give Ricky some pointers on good comebacks like, “Yes, and Geoff almost swallowed my tongue,” or, “No, but Geoff has his hand in my pants.”

I took my hand away from Ricky’s neck and moved it down between us. He placed his hand on mine, but didn’t look at me. I settled for holding hands. I didn’t want to scare him off with a bunch of sex talk or touchy-feely shit. He was too innocent and fresh. I was falling for him and I couldn’t help it. I wanted to press my lips against his, but that would definitely scare him off.

When we pulled up in front of Julie’s house, Ricky let go of my hand.

“I’ll be right back,” Ruben said. “I don’t want to come back and see you guys kissing.”

“I never kiss on a first date,” I said. “Suck cock, now that’s a different story. Of course, we’ll have to strip to really get into it. So, if you see a bare foot sticking up, keep Julie back or she’ll get impure thoughts.”

Ruben looked at me like he really believed me. I smiled.

“You fucking queers are too weird,” he said before turning and walking up to Julie’s house.

“Feels good when you get them,” I said. I looked at Ricky, but he was staring at his shoes.

“I’ve never done anything with another boy,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you think you like me?” I asked. He was so nice I didn’t want to go too fast or he’d balk and runaway.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Would it be okay with you if I helped you out?” He was scared, but I wasn’t quite certain what he was scared about.

“Like what?”

“Like you sleep over with me tonight and we talk about things,” I said. I had no intention of talking about anything other than what he should do with his tongue when we started kissing, or where he should put his hands when we started kissing. I figured kissing was a good place to start.

“Mama won’t allow it,” Ricky said.

“How do you know if you haven’t asked her yet?”

“I can’t ask her,” he said turning his face away from me. “Then she’ll know.”

“How about if I talk to her? I can be awfully persuasive. I can be nice and sweet, too.”

He turned back to me. He looked like a scared little boy who had broken the neighbor’s window and has to go tell Mama. He was biting his lower lip, trying to force himself not to start crying.

“Okay, you win,” I said placing my hand on his thigh just above the knee. “We’ll just spend some time together today. If you come back tomorrow, we can spend more time together.”

“Move over, here comes Ruben and Julie,” he said pushing my hand away.

I sat back and watched Ruben and a young girl, who couldn’t have been much older than Ricky, walk toward the car. Ruben’s hand kept trying to get behind her, while she kept batting it away. She was smiling, though. It was just a game they played. She was slender, very slender, but not skinny. She had nice legs, tanned. Her hips were slender, too. Not baby making hips. Either her blouse was very loose or she had small breasts, I couldn’t tell, even when she open the door and knelt on her seat, looking back at us.

Her brown hair was short, almost cut like a boy’s. Her eyebrows were too big for her face. Her nose was small, perky. Her lips were full, good for sucking cock, but sloppy for kissing. She had a nice smile.

“Where’d you find your twin brother, Ricky?” She asked. “Hi! I’m Julie. You must be Geoff.”

I took her hand and held it, looking into her eyes. She was a lesbian. I don’t think either Ruben or Ricky knew, but I knew. It was as plain as day. She was using Ruben to be safe. She wasn’t devout or chaste. She just didn’t want his dick anywhere outside of his pants.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said. I meant it, too. “Did you bring your swimsuit or are you just coming over for the sun?”

“I don’t swim,” she said. “It’s not that I can’t. I just don’t. Okay?”

“No problem, I hardly go swimming either.”

Ruben got in and I guess we were heading for the Ortega house. I sat back and looked over at Ricky. He was looking out his window. I reached over and took his hand in mine. He didn’t try to pull away, but he didn’t look at me. I hoped I hadn’t pushed too hard, I hoped I didn’t scare him away.

The Ortega house was a three bedroom rambler out of Anywhere, America. Except for the palm trees, we could’ve been on a residential street in North Park, Minneapolis, Buffalo, or any other place. Street, sidewalk, front yard, and then house, it was so ordinary. I was kind of glad Uncle Walter had a huge house in the hills. I followed Ricky into the house. His mother was watching a soap opera and she smiled when he kissed her cheek.

“Hi, I’m Geoff Johnson,” I said, standing close to the end of the sofa where she was sitting. Her hand was soft in mine, a mother’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Geoff,” she said. Her voice was from back east somewhere, further east than Illinois, New England maybe. Her hair was dark, but then there was little light in the living room, other than the television. “You’re Walter Johnson’s nephew.”

“Yes, I’m down here for a few weeks for a visit,” I said. The room smelled of onions. There was dust on the furniture. There was a glass of something on the end table close to her. I wanted it to be iced tea, but the glass was too short for iced tea. It was the right size for liquor, though.

“My younger brother, Stefan, said you’re from up north. How do you like sunny LA?”

“I haven’t seen much of it, yet.”

“Ricky? Where are your manners? Where’d you get off to?”

“I’m getting my swim trunks, Mama,” he yelled from somewhere in the house.

“Ricky is a special boy,” she said. Her voice was soft, barely audible over the TV. “He has trouble making friends. A lot of boys don’t like him, most of them really. Will you try to be nice to him?”

“I know how it is,” I said, wondering if I should sit down somewhere or keep standing. She looked up at me. She knew he was queer. “Yeah, me, too.”

She smiled and nodded her head. “Stefan said you’re a nice, gentle boy. I can see that in you.”

“I won’t do anything to hurt Ricky,” I said. “He’s a good boy. You’ve done a good job raising him. I hope I can be a good friend for him. I don’t have many close friends, either. It’s kind of hard.”

I couldn’t think straight. She was so understanding. Ricky came out wearing cut-offs, a white t-shirt, and white high-tops. I was falling for him. I knew it and I couldn’t help it.

“I can’t believe how you two look so much alike,” she said.

“Mama, Geoff asked if I could sleep over at his house,” Ricky said as he came up beside me. “Please?”

“Make sure you take your toothbrush,” she said. She smiled at me when he ran back to the hall.

**********

Ricky was not much help carrying the groceries into the house, putting them on shelves in the pantry or refrigerator, or staying out of the way so that the rest of us could get the job done. He was floating on cloud nine because Mama said he could sleep over with me. Only, he didn’t know why and I wasn’t about to tell him she knew he was queer.

When everything was in its place, I told Bertrand I’d help with lunch when he was ready to start and then pointed Julie and Ruben out the back door. “Ricky and I have to go upstairs to put on our swim trunks, we’ll be down shortly.”

Ricky was standing at the door holding his overnight bag. He looked like someone who’d missed his bus and was hoping there’d be an extra run just for him. He was anxious and excited.

“Come on, Ricky, we’ll go up the back stairs,” I said as I opened the door to the laundry room. “Come on, Ricky, it’s this way.”

He was so excited I was afraid I was going to have to pull him by the hand to get him to move. Then Bertrand went to him and whispered something in his ear. Ricky looked at me and smiled. Then he hurried over to where I was standing.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he said, following behind me as I wound my way around the washer, dryer, chest freezers—why there were three I had no idea—and a myriad of tables covered with all sorts of laundry, including a number of items only women wore. I immediately thought of Darling, then Sugar came to mind, but I totally dismissed Uncle Walter. Bertrand on the other hand did have long hair and he did spend, according to Ruben, a lot of time with Sugar.

“Ready for what?” I asked, finally getting to the door to the stairs. In an earlier era, these stairs would have been used by the help, but we used them simply to avoid the long walk out to the foyer, then going up the Busby Berkeley staircase.

“For whatever you had in mind,” Ricky said. He sounded too eager.

“I planned on changing into my swimming trunks.”

“Oh, I thought, no, that’s stupid, we hardly know each other.”

“For what?”

“You’re going to laugh at me. I won’t say it.”

“Sex? Were you thinking I’m taking you up to my room so we can have sex?”

“Well, yeah, isn’t that what this is all about?”

I was beginning to wonder if this kid had any idea what it meant to be queer. It certainly wasn’t all about sex, as far as I was concerned. Well, maybe, sometimes, but not all the time.

“Look, Ricky, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me,” I said turning to him when I reach the landing for our floor. “Yeah, I like having sex with boys, but you’re a virgin. You have absolutely no idea what I like to do. And, you haven’t done anything, so you don’t know what you like or don’t like.”

“I like you,” he said pushing me back as he came up onto the landing. “I like you, okay? There I said it.”

He was looking at me, waiting.

“I like you, too,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean we have to go into my bedroom and have sex. Can’t we get to know one another first? Can’t we at least do something other than throw ourselves onto my bed and act like rabid bunnies?”

“Rabid bunnies?”

“You know what I mean.”

I opened my door and my eyes immediately went to the painting opposite the closet doors. The two boys still hadn’t started fucking, but I knew they were close to doing something. Then I turned to Ricky, but he seemed oblivious to either of the paintings.

“Where should I put my bag?”

“Over there on the sofa should be fine.”

“Where am I going to sleep?” There was a hint of trepidation in his voice, like he didn’t want to hear what I was about to say.

“In the bed, of course.”

“With you?”

“God, Ricky, you were all hot to get naked and to amazing things to my body, but you’re afraid to sleep with me?”

“Well, I’ve never slept with another boy.”

“You’ve never kissed another boy, either. Come on, let’s get into our swimming trunks.”

I started to strip. There was a pool out there and I wanted to get in it. That didn’t mean I wanted to swim. Cannonballing into the pool was a lot more fun that working up a sweat swimming back and forth and getting nowhere. After I slipped my briefs to the floor, I turned to Ricky. He was staring at me.

“Haven’t you undressed in front of another boy before?” I asked. I wasn’t about to wait for an answer. I was on a mission of personal pleasure. I went over to the dresser and pulled out my two swim trunks. “Which one do you think I should wear? The red one or the blue.”

“With your lily white skin, you’d better stick with the blue. Don’t you get any sun up where you live?”

“No, it rains, mostly. Up until the Fourth of July, most people are plagued with moss growing between their toes because it’s so wet all the time.”

“You’re a card. You know that.”

“I try and sometimes it helps to be funny.”

Ricky looked at me then pulled off his t-shirt. He had muscles where I had only skin and they were nicely tanned. He slipped off his shoes, then looked at me, again.

“Are you going to watch me undress?”

“You watched me.”

“You’re giving me that eye.”

“What eye?”

“You know, the eye guys give you in gym.”

“Look at me, I don’t have any muscles, my dick is pathetically small, and my ass is, well, it is kind of cute, don’t you think?”

“You’re funny.”

“Yeah, and you have a nice dick,” I said as the cut-offs and briefs hit the floor. Another fine example of natural selection, at least seven inches of tender boy flesh all the way down to the uncut end, a lush crop of curly black pubes at the end of a dark line descending from his navel, and two large reservoirs of tasty boy juice hanging seductively in a dark pouch of crinkly skin. I wanted to get down on my knees and worship the god of sex and accept a sacrifice of unborn babies.

He looked at me and smiled, then I saw his eyes go past to the painting behind me. His dick boned up quickly. He sort of stumbled and I rushed to him. Those two behind me were especially hot because both their faces were buried into a place I wanted to explore on Ricky.

“They’re, uh, um …”

“Naked.”

“Yeah, uh, can I use your, uh, bathroom,” he said trying to push his way around me.

“Wait, Ricky,” I said, trying to grab him before he got away. I got a wrist and held on. I could see fear in his eyes. For all the bravado he had earlier, he was suddenly scared that something might actually happen, something that he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“Come here and sit with me on the bed,” I said trying to pull him away from the bathroom door. I was not about to let him go in there and take care of something he wanted me to have only minutes earlier. “Come on, I’m not going to bite you, yet.”

His dick was throbbing to the beat of his heart. It was calling me to give it pleasure dicks had sought since before time began. My mouth filled with spit in anticipation of taking that beautiful thing down my throat.

“Now you can’t see either painting, right?”

“There’s another one?”

“Oh, god, Ricky, you’re so unobservant. No, don’t turn to look at it. I want you to shut your eyes and lie back on the bed. That’s it. Now, put your hands behind your head and don’t open your eyes until I say so. Okay?”

“Okay. What are you going to do?” His voice was barely audible.

“Make you feel good,” I said lowering my lips to his. They had been there only a moment before I felt his body shudder under me and something hot splattered against the side of my face. I turned to look and got a wad right between the eyes. Three more bursts spewed out onto his chest and abdomen. “You little devil, you did that on purpose.’

He smiled at me and sort of giggled. My thumbs went for his ribs. I was going to tickle him until he peed. Coming on me like that was not going to go unpunished; except, Ricky was a lot stronger and must have taken wrestling because before I knew what was happening I was on my back with him straddling me, forcing my arms onto the bedspread.

“Don’t mess with Ricky,” he said. “Now, what?”

“I don’t know,” I said, smiling. “You’re the one sitting on my dick.”

“Ooh, is that what this is?” He moved forward and back rubbing himself against me. A couple more times and we wouldn’t have to worry about me, either. “You know, I bet if I move forward just a little more and then kind of scoot back. Yeah, your thing knows where to go doesn’t it?”

“We don’t have any lube,” I said trying to picture in my mind what was about to happen.

“Did you look in the drawer?” he asked. He leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer. “What’s this? And, this tube of stuff?”

He held up a box that had a clear cellophane window. Inside was a dildo, almost exactly like Bertrand’s. The tube was what we needed.

“That’s lube, put it on my dick and it’ll go inside you easier,” I said trying to breathe while Ricky straddled me. He was small, but surprisingly heavy, too; or, was he just pressing down because he was so excited.

He moved off and knelt beside me. He squirted some of the stuff onto his finger and began daubing it onto my dick. God, it felt good. It felt, too good. About the time he went around the rim of the glans the third time I knew I couldn’t hold back. My body tightened and Geoff’s good stuff spewed out onto my bare chest and tummy. (I didn’t have an abdomen. Abdomen implies abs. I didn’t have abs, therefore, I didn’t have an abdomen.)

“Oh, man, you did it, too,” Ricky said falling down onto the bed beside me. “I guess this means we’re meant for one another.”

“Does it?”

“I think so because I do like you. You make me laugh.”

“I like you, too.” I rolled onto my side and kissed him. He smiled and we didn’t go anywhere or do anything except talk until Bertrand called on the intercom saying it was time to fix lunch.

**********

Later that night while Ricky was watching something totally stupid on television, I went in search of Uncle Walter and Bertrand. I’d been in that house only two and a half days and I still hadn’t been everywhere. There were so many rooms it reminded me of the mansion on the Beverly Hillbillies, which I didn’t watch that much, but enough to know Uncle Walter’s house wasn’t that big. It still had a lot of unexplored territory, though.

Following the sound of voices, I found them out on the patio drinking a dark red wine. I almost laughed out loud when I saw Uncle Walter wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. There are some people that were never meant to wear blue jeans. His middle-aged paunch looked so silly sitting there in front of him like he had a small melon stuck in his pants.

“Uncle Walter, can I talk to you for a moment?” I asked. I sat down on the edge of a wrought iron chaise longue upholstered in blue, green, and white flowery cotton. There was a light scent of flowers in the air.

“Bertrand, pour him a small glass of wine,” he said. “If you’re going to be with living us, you’re going to have to learn how to drink wine.”

“But I’m not old enough,” I said as Bertrand poured barely a shot of wine into a small tumbler then added about the same amount of water.

“Bull! Kids your age are drinking this stuff all over Europe,” Uncle Walter said. “Plus, you’re having only that much and if you don’t drink it before you leave, well it isn’t going with you.”

I took a small sip. It had a sharp metallic taste.

“Yep, he doesn’t like it either,” Uncle Walter said. “Now, what does my favorite nephew want?”

“Do I have to go home after three weeks?” I was thinking of Ricky lounging on one of the black leather sofas upstairs. I’d had the best day of my life with him and I didn’t want to think I was going to lose him.

“Well, it’s a little early to be discussing that, but no you don’t have to leave.”

I looked at him and then remembered the one-way airline ticket. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

“Like what?”

“Is this some kind of test, or something? I mean, is my living here with you guys this summer supposed to have something to do with Doctor Randall trying to find me someplace to live outside the group home?”

“Geoff, you’re too smart for your own good. Yes, this is a test.”

“I thought so.” You can fool a kid some of the time, but you can’t fool a kid all the time. Eventually, we start putting two and two together. They send us to school and then they’re surprised when we start figuring out what’s going on.

“You’ve fallen in love, again? What happened to the boyfriend? Tim wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever see him, again.”

And, I truly didn’t. It’d been too long. I could hope for the best, but I wasn’t going to pine away for someone who, in all likelihood was never going to come back. I had to move on, but I did, still, have the Corsair to remember him. I still had that.

“Do you have a driver’s license?” Uncle Walter asked.

“No, crazy boys don’t get to drive.”

“Bertrand, call Reginald down at the garage tomorrow. I want Geoff to learn everything he can about a car. And, which car? He certainly won’t be driving the Benz or the Ferrari, but what about the Roadster? It certainly would make him the envy of every girl on campus, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t ask me about girls,” Bertrand said.

“Well, don’t look at me, either,” I said. “I don’t know what girls like.”

“Yes, I think Geoff will drive the Roadster,” Uncle Walter said. “And, Bertrand, find out what’s the best driving school. I don’t want you ferrying him all over when he can do it himself.”

“Yes, sir,” Bertrand said.

I looked at him and he just shrugged. He really was Uncle Walter’s assistant.

“Can I ask another question? Yesterday, when we were at Jimmy’s …”

“What were you doing down there?” Uncle Walter asked. He looked shocked and angry, like I’d done something horribly wrong.

“That kid you arranged for me was an asshole, so I left him and tried to find my way home. I sort of ended up on Santa Monica Boulevard.”

“Well, at least you were heading in the right direction. But, what were you doing in Jimmy’s?”

“I called here and Bertrand told me to go in there. I wanted to go to the pizza place across the street, but he said I was too young. What was that all about? And, what was so funny when I said I felt like a chicken on display at the butcher’s?”

Uncle Walter literally spewed a mouthful of wine across patio at me. Then he started guffawing like a donkey in heat. Bertrand was smiling so hard, trying to stifle laughing, too. He looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

“You! That’s what’s so funny,” Uncle Walter said as he finally started to calm down. “Did he really say that?”

“Yes, brought the house down,” Bertrand said, looking at me and smiling. “He certainly made an impression on the noontime crowd.”

“I wish I’d have been there.”

“But, what’s so funny?” I asked.

“Geoff, dear, a chicken is a young boy like you,” Uncle Walter said. “And, you saying you felt like one must have been something to hear.”

“Like me? What about me makes me a chicken?”

“Geoff, think about yourself,” Bertrand said. “What makes you different from all the other boys?”

“I’m queer. Oh, you mean, oh, that is funny. No wonder they were laughing at me. Kind of makes me feel embarrassed.”

“Never, ever feel embarrassed about who you are,” Uncle Walter said. “You’re smart and you’re young, a little naïve, but that will change with time. And, you’re too young to go into that pizza place. Guys don’t go there for pizza.”

“Sex?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve heard about places like that,” I said. “There’s a bowling alley up near where I live that has a reputation as a place to get a blowjob, if you’re so inclined. I’ve always been kind of scared about going there.”

“As well you should. You’re too young to be hanging around places like that. Now, do I need to find you another boy to be your friend?”

“No, I’ve got Ricky,” I said. “He’s spending the night.”

“Ricky? Bertrand who is this Ricky fellow?”

“Do you remember Ruben Ortega from the Treasure Island cast?”

“Yes, nice boy, I’m surprised I haven’t seen more of him, but who is Ricky?”

“His brother, he’s about Geoff’s age.”

“Wait a minute, do you mean to tell me you have a friend somewhere in this house unattended?”

“Yeah, why?” I answered. He sounded angry. He looked angrier. “He’s upstairs in the lounge watching TV.”

“Oh, good, I was afraid he might be wandering around,” Uncle Walter said. “That electronic babysitter was the best invention America ever came up with. Sucks their little minds in and holds them tight. You can go now. Bertrand and I need to discuss some things.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I’d been dismissed. My uncle, the movie producer, simply dismissed me. I got up, looking at my nearly full glass of wine. He was right about that, I hadn’t finished it. Bertrand got up and walked with me back into the house.

“Do you boys need anything?” he asked. “I can make some popcorn. There should be some sodas in the refrigerator up there.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “He just dismissed me like I was some kind of employee.”

“He probably thinks you are, but that’s just the way he is. You’ll get used to it.”

He kissed me, again. It was like Mother and I kissed. He held me close to him and I kind of felt like he loved me. Maybe we were going to be friends.