My room had changed little since I’d arrived at the Tappets. Stan had told me I could have what I wanted for it and I had asked for two things: Hardy Boys books, some of which Lloyd had already read to me, and Beatle’s albums. Stan had bought me the complete series of Hardy Boys, fifty in all, and they were in hard-cover edition, their new blue bindings in perfect alignment on the shelf on the wall above the encyclopedia. I was on book thirty-four, The Hooded Hawk Mystery, reading nearly as well as Lloyd had and skipping the words I couldn’t make out. Stan bought not just the Beatles past records like Rubber Soul, but also their recent ones, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, Magical Mystery Tour, and even the forbidden double-white album. He also got me four framed split-pictures of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, taken in 1960 when they were clean shaven, and then in 1967, when they wore beards and dressed in hippy clothes. Moreover, he’d given me a stereo system, with a radio-receiver, turntable, amplifier, speakers and headphones.
The sheet of homework seemed impossibly large, as though Mrs. Harriet was insane and cruel, even though she didn’t appear to be either. Four whole separate sheets of mathematical problems were attached to other sheets of mazes, word-searches, and a map of the United States of America where you had to print in the fifty states and their capitals.
Besides the homework sheets, I had to read a book, and give a ten-sentence written response to it and edit a composition for spelling. I turned on my electric calculator as Stan had shown me, and did the four sheets of arithmetic quickly. I’d a small library of atlases, dictionaries, and an illustrated wildlife encyclopedia. I took out an atlas and named the fifty states and their capitals. This assignment took the longest. I followed it up with a ten sentence reaction to the last Hardy Boys’ book I’d finished two weeks ago, The Secret of Wildcat Swamp, which I remembered particularly well.
My sentences were concise and short, such as, ‘Frank and Joe thought the secret of Wildcat swamp was a prize. It turned out to be really surprising when they found out it was actually a wildcat who lived there.’ I checked the spelling of two words in the dictionary. The maze took me less than a minute, but the word-search, only a dozen words had to be found, took me until supper, over an hour, and twice I came close to tearing it to shreds.
How was I to survive with this much work everyday, and now, added to it the fact I’d to play basketball every morning and had to get up at six o’clock? My brain spun with the events of the last months. In the kitchen, Una was decorating a chocolate cake. I groaned and sat down at the island, greedily eyeing the icing bowl and also feeling dejected.
“Mary and Stan are dining out tonight,” Una said. “This baby’s all ours.” She looked up. “What’s wrong, my full-grown child? Is the first day of school a disappointment?”
I began to tell her the story of the altercation, but became certain that she already knew even the small details; Andy must have already told her. Una and Andy had a close relationship and talked about everything. I’d already heard that anything out of the ordinary occurring at Wedgewood got home or into the ears of parents at once. I would need to be on my guard every day; the school was potentially full of spies.
“Why I’m really unhappy is because of the amount of homework. It took me this whole time to do it. Now Sally and I won’t be able to play tonight. She’ll have to do her homework.”
Una grunted in her kind way, a type of a grumbling hum. “Go get your assignment sheet,” she said.
When I returned, she giggled to herself, her eyes lighting up. “You’ve already finished all of this?” I nodded. “Look at this, would you?” She pointed to the sentence in small-type at the top of the page. Homework for the week of Sept. 5-8, due on Monday.
“You know this is Tuesday?”
I realized my mistake and laughed for a minute. “My homework is all done for the week?” I asked.
Una nodded and rubbed my head. A wave of relief washed over me. “Do you think you will like school at Wedgewood?” she asked.
“I think it might be boring, but maybe not.”
“Not like Una’s classes?”
“That’s real school.”
“You’re smart, my full-grown child. You’ll do well. You go tell Sally and Kelly Anne to clean up and hang the clothes back where they got them, and put the zoo animals away too. Ten minutes and it’ll be time to go. Ten minutes is all.”
I took my runners off and snuck up the carpeted stairs. I crouched before Sally’s door, readying to scare them. When I rushed into the room and shouted, they were in the midst of a change and Kelly Anne had only panties on. They jumped back and screamed. I laughed, and so did Kelly Anne, but Sally gave me an angry look.
“What?” I said.
“Get out,” she shouted.
I left and closed the door, repeating Una’s orders from outside of it and leaving. Before I fell asleep that night, Stan let himself in after a soft knock. “I’ve found an alarm clock to get you up for your basketball practices,” he said. “I’ll set it for six-thirty and we can have breakfast together, then I’ll drive you to school.”
The brand-new clock-radio was no bigger than a loaf of bread and carried the insignia of Factory Bright. It had numbers which turned over and a blue-tinted window to see them through. He showed me how to set it.
“You can have music, beeping, or this: “Get out of bed, you lazy horse,” a voice screeched out of the box. “It’s time to go to work!”
I laughed and so did Stan. He was one of a kind and I dreamt about him now almost every night. I hugged him and he hugged me back. It was very emotional.
When I awoke at one o’clock, I crawled into bed with Sally and she was awake.
“Did you get a good look at Kelly Anne?” she asked accusingly.
I’d forgotten all about it. Truth was, even though I was completely in love with Sally, the woman at the Principal’s office with the large brown nipples and full breasts, I had learned that her name was Julian Provost, had sparked my imagination and even when I was with Sally I knew I would think of Julian’s beautiful curves and full breasts.
“I was just playing a joke on you,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do it again.”
The next morning, Una made Stan and me hot waffles with fresh cantaloupe and vanilla ice-cream. Afterward, Stan brought me to school and came with me to the gymnasium. His grey suit almost glistened, and certainly, he smelled good, his cologne was like allspice or cinnamon. To my surprise Kurt was there. An even greater surprise was that Principal Adams was there as well. He and Stan shook hands. They both stood the same height, but their looks couldn’t have been more different, one trim, one stout.
“Christian, this is Coach Kray,” the principal said. I shook hands with a man I had spotted around the school, someone I’d taken to be the music teacher, a well-formed slim dirty-blond-haired man with dull blue eyes and a commanding smile, which he flashed for me. “Good of you to come,” he said with a mischievous smile. “This way.”
I waved good-bye to Stan as I walked away and he winked, but continued to talk to Principal Adams which worried me more than it should have. Coach Kray opened the change room door and shouted in behind me, Terry, check out this fine fellow’s shoes and see if they’ll do the job.” He looked me over again. “My son will look after you, the tall one, inside.”
Kurt was putting on his shoes and sat beside an older lanky teenager with a tapered-body and dark hair. He had only a vague resemblance to Coach Kray. Though he was completely naked when he greeted me, I didn’t mind. A dozen boys were gathered in the room, and many of them were in different stages of dressing. Terry had a patch of bright black pubic hair above his large penis, made to look all the larger because like Lloyd, his knob was covered with loose-skin which hung over and completely hid it. Other than that, he had no body hair. If he ever tried to bugger me, I’d have fought to the death. I’d imagine he could have ripped someone’s insides with a thing that size when it got hard.
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p; “Let’s see your court-shoes, pal,” he said with a smile drawing my attention away from his mid-section. I showed them to him and he passed them back after a brief glance. “They’re fine,” he said.
I quickly dressed and joined Kurt on the court. When everyone was out from the dressing room and shooting hoops, Coach Kray blew his whistle.
“Gather around,” he shouted. “We’re going to divide into three groups. Principal Adams will explain the tactical merits of man-to-man, the only game we play here. Got it? We play big. First rule, man to man. Terry’s going to teach shooting technique, but remember, when it comes to shooting, it’s 90% practice. I’ll be teaching you how to dribble, pass, jump-shoot, rebound, screen, and the rudiments of the game.”
We were divided into three teams and the lessons began, followed by a half-hour scrimmage at eight o’clock, then we hit the showers. To my utter surprise, I enjoyed every minute and it was all I could think about the whole day. My first week of school ended well, the story of my altercation with a grade five student, put me in good stead with the students of grade four, no one tried to bully me, no one even challenged me. That Saturday I visited Tappet’s head office with Mary and Stan. The shining platinum modern high-rise, carried the logo on the top-floor of, American Express.
“That’s who makes my credit card,” I said from the backseat, unable to hide my shock. “Why isn’t the building called Tappets?”
“I don’t understand why a sign is important,” Mary said. “We own the building. Did your father put you up to asking that?”
Stan laughed and I shook my head, bewildered, but also counting the number of floors; fifteen.
“They won’t be there forever,” she assured me as though I was an adult who had openly criticized her. “Already they’re too big for the building and if we can afford it, we’ll take over the floors, but we really don’t need the room. This isn’t Factory Bright or Tappet Tapes. This is a building for pushing paper.”
Stan grunted but I nodded. I never wanted to be on the other side of an argument with Mary. We took an express elevator to the top floor, and from Stan’s office windows, I looked on New York City, especially Manhattan Island, and it drew my attention away before I saw anything else in the room. It was a beautiful clear day, and when I got close, I could see the Empire State, the Seagram, and the Chrysler Buildings. In 1968, they were some of the tallest ones standing, except for some further back of which I didn’t know the names. The office held pieces of solid oak furniture, and along the walls, glass-enclosed cabinets contained replica miniature warplanes, spanning the last four decades, these included a special place for the ones Stan had flown in the Korean Conflict, including the P-38 Lightning and the F-86 Sabre. A reproduction of a Soviet-made supersonic MiG-15 also took a prominent position. The recent MiG-23 and a F-14 were my favorites. They both looked very daunting and superior.
Large artisan ceramic pots held huge bouquets of orchids, and on the wall opposite Stan’s desk, hung a reproduction of a large landscape painting. I read the etching on the frame: The Ray of Sunlight, by Jacob van Ruisdael, 1682. Three other smaller photographs of Stan beside large lathe machines mounted and laminated on a eight-by-five-inch embossed metal sheet, hung below the warplanes, titled: The Tappet D+ terre-lathe, Connecticut 1951, Tappet lathe precision with K-Q adaptor, Maryland 1953, and The Tappet-German locus-lathe XD+, Berlin 1954. I wondered how long I should dutifully study everything.
“Hello Christian,” Isaac said and entered the office. “I heard you were dropping by.”
I realized, looking at Isaac at work, how striking he was with his deep tan and his trim fit. He was dressed in a flawlessly tailored powdered-grey suit. He looked like the president instead of my parent’s secretary.
“Your dad has people waiting. Come with me and I’ll show you around some more before Larry takes you home.”
Stan hugged me. “Why aren’t there any Cessna airplanes in your collection,” I asked.
“It’s a warplane collection.”
“Can we go flying tomorrow?”
Stan looked at Isaac, who nodded. “I believe we can, if it’s a short one,” Stan said and kissed the top of my head. I couldn’t have been happier.
When we got to Mary’s office, it was the very opposite condition of Stan’s. No collections, no flowers, and no pictures. It seemed to contain only work items. It was much bigger as well, and several desks sat in the corners with microfiche-computers, typewriters, dictaphones, and other devices. Generally it appeared to me to be chaotic, and when I’d to come and work, I hoped it was with Stan. I came around behind Mary as she worked and kissed her.
“Goodbye,” I said and noticed a small picture of Sally and me on her desk.
“Una’s going out tonight, don’t forget,” Mary said. “Would you like to go to Sally’s diving lessons?”
I nodded and Isaac saw me to the car. Larry took me directly home and I sat quietly in the back without saying a word until we got home. He was a man of few words and I respected it. Sally and I played the whole day upstairs, until Mary came home. We’d fresh fruit and macaroni and cheese for supper, then drove to the South Orange Swimming Center, a peculiar-looking structure next to the Hudson-Hoboken Secondary High School. The September evening was perfect and I held Sally’s hand. The boy’s change room smelled musty and faintly of urine, but it was clean and I was alone. When I saw the diving boards, I immediately regretted not asking what was involved when Mary had first asked.
“You’re going to dive off that one?” I asked Sally and stared up some twenty or so meters to the top diving platform. She looked as scared as me.
“Hello, are you Sally and Christian?” a teenager in a bikini asked. “I’m Liza.”
My eyes fell on a light-brown-skinned figure whose curves were at their maximum potential. Her breasts seemed enormous and it took every bit of my self-control to pull away from them and nod. Her narrow face was without blemish, the teeth under her smile, perfect. My loins ached and I felt actual pain being that close to her.
“This way,” she said placing her hands on me and Sally. It was the first time I ever remember thinking how horrible it was to be a kid. She took us to the shallow end and helped us with dives from a kneeling position and then from toe-touch positions. Every time she’d touch me, it was torment, but I’d plenty of sneak-peaks at her breasts. That night as I cuddled up against Sally’s skinny warm body, I imagined Liza.
The next day when I came downstairs, the main floor of the mansion was decorated with balloons, paper masks, and fresh flowers. A huge pi��ata hung from one of the arches. A sign, the length of one wall had been hand-painted in pink and blue by Sally, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTIAN – WE LOVE YOU ! I’d forgotten about it. I was nine years old. I lived in a mansion. Slept with a beautiful girl. Was protected directly by an agent of Jesus. And had the two most wonderful parents in the world. I couldn’t be happier. That afternoon, my class-mates came to the Tappet mansion for a party. Kurt and Andy also joined us. We played Pin the Tail on the Donkey and smashed the piñata. The candy scattered everywhere, and it was much fun.
“There’s a friend to see you,” Una said and took me to the front foyer where Lloyd waited. She left us alone. He’d grown his hair over his ears and it made him look like a girl, but surprisingly, less threatening to me.
“I wanted to get you something for your birthday,” he whispered, “and for helping me out with your dad.”
I shrugged but took the gift, it was big, and unwrapped it. It was a monopoly board-game. “Thanks, Lloyd. Is everything okay?” He nodded. “Come on in,” I said. “It’s nearly over, but there still lots of cake.”
Chapter Five
I enrolled in piano lessons, and discovered about myself that I’d no musical talent. I could play basketball, swim and dive, do my studies, and convince everyone except Una that I was pretty clever. I passed grade four with a string of A’s and B pluses.
That summer of 1970, the family traveled to Una’s cot
tage for three weeks. It was a complete shock to me she even had one. No one had ever once mentioned it. In fact, Una owned a whole lake, and it was the prettiest lake I’d ever imagined, completely private, a wonderful place for Sally and I to be alone with the loons and muskrats. The cottage, though all on one level, was large and had many rooms. It was fully equipped with Factory Bright appliances. Everyone was happy, especially me.
In grade five, I made the basketball teams’ second line, jumped off the highest diving platform at South Orange Swimming Center without killing myself, reached grade two in piano lessons, and bettered my final report-card with another A. I did especially well in history with an A-plus. By then, taking off and landing in the Cessna had become almost routine. All in all, I was elated.
While the school work was tedious, I’d learned that if I spent my entire Monday evening finishing my weekly assignments, I’d much more free time for the rest of the week.
Every morning at one o’clock, I continued to crawl into bed with Sally. I’d grown pubic hair and my penis now seemed nearly twice it was when I was adopted, proving that it pays to play with it.
Sally hadn’t had her period yet, but we’d decided as soon as she did, we would start cuddling more intimately. I stole some condoms from a drug store just for that purpose.
I also stole a gold ring and bracelet from an expensive jewelers. Sally loved them and I told her she shouldn’t wear them in front of our parents. I also now professed my love openly for her.
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