Sunday, September 11, 2011

Dirt Bag

In the bathroom, my place of solace, I felt an overwhelming monkish calm, quite like that of sleep. I let my stomach pains escape me and I thought. Perhaps having a real mother is what I wanted? Maybe it just seems strange at the moment, I just need to adjust to this pleasant parenting? I leafed thru an old celebrity gossip magazine, and carelessly guffawed my way through who's dating who and Robert Downing Junior's new mug-shots. During a strain to expel, I could here the phone ring. "I'll get it!" yelled Charlotte in a fury of productivity.

Charlotte picked up the phone:

"Oh hello. Fitzgerald residence."

"No you have the right number."

"This is Samuel's mother. He's busy at the moment, can I leave him a message?"

"The Dance..."

I jumped from the john, and tried to scramble for the door. I tripped over my pants which were around my ankles, smashing my forehead on the door knob.

"Oh don't worry Anne! I'm sure Samuel would love to go with you, in-fact he was talking about it just this morning."

"MOM! CHARLOTTE! MOM!" I screamed. I kicked the door open, still scrambling to pull up my pants.

"Okay Anne, I'll pick you up around seven, I'm sure it will be lovely."

I stood in the doorway fuming. Charlotte hung up the phone. My forehead red and bruising, my fly unzipped, and my newly found compassion for Charlotte went out the window. I don't even remember if I flushed.

I looked back. The brown child of this awful catastrophe was staring at me from the toilet.

"How dare you!" I swear I felt my balls drop with every word spoken.

Charlotte shook her head.

"How could you Charlotte?" determination filled my being.

"Why? Why'd you tell her I'd go? You had no right doing that!"

Charlotte paused and looked down. "Please Samuel, your manhood is staring me in the face, please zip up you trousers." I blushed and took noticed of my appendage. Embarrassment had halted my speech. That was it she had won the battle.

I turned, tucked, zipped, and marched to my room.

At school, things had changed. I had gone three months without the unwarranted attention of my peers. Ever since the "Fag and Whale" incident, I worked vigorously to become unseen. This would all come to a head mid May of that year. I was so close, one month left and I was free.

Damn the Dance! Damn organized social event! How is this part of the educational system? As if liver spotted board members sat around devising schemes to make the socially oblivious more awkward!

Anne told the school of her exploits. Squirming with my locker combo, which never seemed to work, I was ambushed. My head was down fixing my backpack, when the light on the checker board tiled floors was eclipsed by a large circular being. I turned to the sight of a poke-a-dotted disaster. It was Anne.

"Hey I called, I'm glad Charlotte is back!" Anne said looking bashful. She really did have a nice way about her.

"Yeah I guess." with my head to the floor examining the constellations the scuff marks made on the tiles.

"Hey so... you excited about the dance?" Anne's sheepish grin smeared her face, it sat between the breakfast stains on her cheeks.

I wanted to say No and walk away. But, this meant so much to Anne. "Yeah... it should be fun... all the lights and stuff?" I make a horrible lier. Anne exhaled, a weight lifted off of our conversation.

Two dolled up tramps walked by, throwing verbal garbage at our gentle egos. "Hey love birds, can wait for the dance?"

Oh man every thing was harsh. The bell rang and Anne smiled scampering to her next class.

In second period my contempt, for people of my age grew. Trapped the stale surrounds of an eight grade english class room, ridicule was the greatest escape form boredom. Notes, chatter, and spit balls illuminated the room upon my arrival. Randy Dimmleman sat in front of me. He was a quiet outcast, same as I. The mockery didn't even stop with him. "Hey Sam, I was wondering, do think the gym can support a mammal as large as Anne? And how do you dance with a whale?"

Fuck you Randy! I'm amazed he knew a whale was a mammal.

"Randy I think the gym will be fine, but not if I had to bring her into that shitty trailer you live in, with all your inbreed relatives!"

His face turn bright red with embarrassment. His buck toothed smile turned into a sloppy frown as he turned around.

The teacher, Mrs Joiner, entered and proceeded with her lesson plan.

I proceeded to scribble in my diary.


Dear Diary,

How does one dance with a whale, when forced to dance? Does he take it in stride. Will he harpoon the beast? Or will he smile and entertain those who came for the freak show? I suppose I'm married to the sea.


I want a divorce,

Sam


I couldn't take refuge in the bathrooms anymore. That's where they talked, about me. It was my one place of hiding, and Anne ruined it! I was out, walking the battlefield, the halls of discontent. Whispers slithered around me, words that would plague the ears of the weak of heart. The words fat, Anne, fag, and Sam all rattled against the cold steel lockers. I was a marked man.

In gym class Frankie Roseglass approached me, we were changing and his delicate touch grazed my shoulder blade. "Hey Sam, I heard your going with Anne to the dance!"

I fumbled, my tounge became bloated and vomit rose in my esophagus.

He continued "Listen, I just wanted to say I understand."

What? Was this some "Carrie" like joke, I inspected the area for pigs blood.

"Hey, I'm just like you! I also like a big woman. Big sweaty tits, huge ass, all that cushion.."

Frankie continued in spirals of adolescent chubby chaser fantasy. Life paused for me to write a very eloquently spoken letter to God in my mind.

Dear God,

Why?

love,

Sam.

I repeated the hyper sexualized comments which Frankie spoke. I wanted Frankie to think I was just like him. I thought it better for him to believe I had a big girl fetish than the idea that I actually liked Anne. I was doing the male thing to do. Teenage realization: being a man meant being a dirt bag!

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