[ Bo Helps Out]
By this point, Bo and I had a pretty regular email relationship going on. There was nothing suspicious or inappropriate about it. We just said hi, and threw around a couple thoughts we had to share from the day that we felt couldn't wait until our usual weekend get-togethers. Mostly it was nothing. It was just friends being friends. Plus, she did her emails from her phone, so that typically made them short and sweet.
It was during one of those email exchanges that I mentioned I needed to pick out some suits for my job. My folks were willing to advance me some money, since I was expecting a 400% pay increase, compared to the gas station. But I still had to find something that looked good that didn't cost an arm and a leg. The less I owed my folks the better.
Bo told me she could help and knew some shops that had a nice selection, from handsome lower end options, right up to the way-out-of-my-league-and-gag-when-I-look-at-the-pricetag options. You can tell from the number of hyphens that THOSE suits were absolutely not allowed here.
She commented that she couldn’t wait to get me ‘out of my dungarees.’ That left me wondering if that was another one of her subtle innuendos, or what. Though she admitted she liked me wearing my jeans as well.
A few days before the new job was scheduled to begin, she secretly met me for some ice cream in town, and then took me to a place she "felt very confident about."
As it turned out, Ryan shopped there. You can probably guess how many hyphens HIS suits cost. That was NOT my side of the store. But by now, Bo knew the staff, and told them I was a friend on a budget, just getting a new job, and she wanted me fixed up right. (Those are my words. She actually used a little Yankee-Speak.)
I thumbed through the different fabrics and weaves, the colors, the cuts, the number of breasts, which - admittedly - it was hard for me to say with a straight-face because I was still so immature at heart.
Bo eventually intervened and guided me, and then the store assistant (I think she referred to him as a 'clothier') took measurements. They both examined me in a full length body mirror, with pieces of material pinned up on my legs, and chalk marks all over. (I asked if the chalk would come out in the washing machine. Bo grimaced, and the guy with the chalk scowled, so I made a goofy face, and laughed, playing it off as a joke. He cleared his throat, and we continued.)
When it was time to pay, I was surprised that I wasn't allowed to take them home with me. It seemed strange to pay for something that expensive and leave with nothing. But the 'clothier' assured me that once the adjustments had been made, I would be called to pick up my suits. I suspiciously looked at Bo for confirmation, wanting to make sure I wasn't getting ripped off.
“You’re impossible,” she laughed.
“Oh, I’m totally possible,” I corrected her.
She pushed me out of the store, and said thank you to the tailor.
I liked it when she pushed me. Or randomly touched me. She was one of those people who just casually made that connection, the informal touch while talking, the tap on the shoulder or arm. I didn't take it personally, like she was specifically flirting with me. She did it with a lot of people. But it was still better than no casual touch. Just like being with her as a friend on a friendly secret mission was still better than not being with her at all.
[ New Suit Meets Friends ]
The next Friday, at the end of my first day on the new job, I went right over to meet the gang. It was the first time any of them had seen me in the fancy new threads.
The reactions were right near what I expected.
Chris said, "Hi, Ryan," then after a confused pause, added, "I mean, Waylon. New suit?" It was hard to say if he was joking or was actually confused who I was for a second.
Amane complimented me. "Very sharp. I approve. It suits you well."
Ryan made an attempt at an off-color joke. It upset Mags, thinking it reflected as much on her as on my choice of clothes. He said, "Who knew you had taste!"
Robby kept staring, not sure what to say. He had a disappointed glean in his eye that seemed to say I was slipping away from the world we had known.
Bo quietly added, "Very handsome." I nodded to her and winked. We had already agreed not to let anyone know she had helped me to pick out the clothes, just in case it sparked any jealousies.
Ryan asked, with a dry smirk, "How do you introduce yourself to co-workers? What name do you use?"
"Waylon Bowden."
"That's no fun," Chris chimed in.
"I'm not in it for fun, Chris. I'm in it to learn, and I'm in it to win."
Mags mused, "No more redneck names for you, W2. My baby's growing up." She cast me a gently adoring grin.
After Bo had called me out about Mags, Mags and I were a little less secretive, but it didn’t change what Mags had said before. No labels to define us. No talk of the future. No commitments or strings attached. No guaranteed exclusivity.
I gave Mags the credit she deserved. "It's all thanks to you, Mags. You matched up my skills with a good company that could use them. And here I am. Whole new me. Start a something else new." I added, “Granted, I’m starting at the bottom of the food chain, but that’s still a start.”
Mags added, “And it beats pumping gas.”
“You can say that again! Thank you!”
I reckon she blushed a little. I had never seen that before, no matter how far over the line any of us - including her - had crossed.
***
At the end of the night, when we were all heading back to our cars, Robby pulled me aside privately, next to his van.
He was drunk and had a chip on his shoulder even before he began. "What's up, Way? You start hangin' out with these fancy 'college kids,' and suddenly y' start actin' like y'er all better than me."
"I do not," I countered, definitely not in the mood for a talk like this after a long day. “It’s a suit. That’s all. I’m still the same person.”
Bitterly, he pointed in my face. "Yuh, y' are. Y'er changin'. Y'er different now. And I don't just mean the new monkey suit."
I sighed. "I'm different because I'm starting to reach out and realize the dreams I've had of becoming someone, of finding my place in the world. This is important to me."
Robby cocked his head and clucked his tongue, tucking it in his cheek for a moment, then challenged, "You don't even talk the same anymore."
I sighed. "I'm practicing 'corporate'."
"And how long before you don't give a damn about me anymore because I don't fit into that new corporate world a' yours?
"You're in it now. Why would that change? We're all in this together. You, me. Mags. Bo, Chris. Amane." I took a breath. "Ryan."
He was starting to pace like a caged wild-cat. "Y' say that now, but things gonna change. I can feel that. This is only the beginning. Y'er gettin' to be so stuck up, you'd drown in a rainstorm."
I reminded him, "You're my best friend. You have been since I was a kid. Why are you acting like some insecure girlfriend?"
"I don't know," he spit. "Maybe because I like your new world, but I don't belong there. First thing that goes wrong, and I'm out. I'm sure of it. And then what? Back to what for me? I'm tasting Tenderloin and T-bone now. I don't want to go back to Salisbury steak and London broil."
"Not gonna be that way." I reassured him.
"You can't promise that, so don't even start. At some point, y'er gonna realize that the experiences that you and I shared long ago are gone. And we have nothing in common anymore."
I rubbed my temples. Robby was getting simultaneously into one of his temporary almost-deep modes and completely riled up.
Robby continued, "And at that point, we start to meet for the occasional drink, or visit on holidays, maybe catch a sports game once in a spell, but we're just acquaintances then. Not friends."
"We're always gonna be friends. I'm telling you that. I don't neglect my friends."
"Yeah?" He was back in my face, not quite sure what to do with his hands. They were waving around like kar
ate choppers. "I hope that's true. Because I don't know what I would do, if I found out it wasn't."
Concerned, I asked, "You need me to drive you home?"
"Don't you be condescendin' me!"
"You ok?" I asked, dangling my own keys.
"I'm fine. You and I have had way more than this on a good night."
"Ok. I just don't want anyone getting hurt. Including you. "
That put some grease back on his fire. "Then you better watch yourself, 'cause I can see where this is going, and you can't. Y'er too deep in your little play world to see the hurt that's comin'."
"I'll be careful."
"You better be."
"I will."
"You better."
"Ok."
He hugged me. "I love you, man. I'm just watchin' yer back."
"I know." I hugged him back, patting the back of his shoulders; glad he couldn’t see my face because I was a little pissed off.
He backed off. "Fag." Then punched me. Things were normal again.
"You sure you don't want a ride?"
"I'm good." He got into his van, downed his window, started up her engine, and gave me a thumbs up.
I waved. "Night, Robby."
He beeped his horn, one of those custom Dixie modifications that played a little melody of the Deep South. That had been cliché at least a hundred years ago; but that was Robby.
[ Carnival ]
The next group outing was a carnival a week before Independence Day. That was Mags idea. She admitted she was a closet thrill-seeker, as if we didn’t already know that. And the carnival was rolling through town, bringing with it the promises of fast rides, unhealthy food, and general craziness. Everyone - except for me - was out of school for the summer. I had opted for the summer session to try to grab a few more credits toward my major.
Now, the carnival around here was a big deal. There were purebred animals and harvested fruits and vegetables; tractor races, and all kinds of rides and games. There were outdoor concerts and fireworks, dunking tanks, pie-eating contests, rock-climbing walls, fried dough with every topping imaginable, and even a fortune-telling booth – that we talked about visiting, but never did.
When we got to the park, we took souvenir pictures trying to look sexy with Smoky the Bear; then we got a little boozed up and tried to decide what we wanted to do first.
There were several kinds of rollercoasters; small, big, and extra-big.
Robby challenged Mags. “Bet you a blow job you can’t ride more coasters than me without puking.”
Mags stared him down, condescendingly. “Precious, how the hell do you expect to give me a blowjob. Besides, I have a stomach of iron, and I’m hard-wired not to feel fear. If you really want to make a fool of yourself and make this bet, you can blow Chris when you lose.”
Chris grinned big, watching Robby. “What’s it gonna be, big boy? Ready to sip from the other end of the straw?”
Robby was torn. He wasn’t sure if Mags was bluffing. He snapped at Chris, waving a fist. “Want a sip THIS?”
Chris squinted his eyes, and lowered his voice to an ominous cool whisper. “You ever feel the barrel of a gun up your ass? The cold steel pushing you so hard you thought you were going to shit and cum at the same time?”
Robby was mortified. “Oh, fuckin-A.” He turned back to Mags. “Never mind. No way. Bet’s off. Oh, fuck. I’m outta here. I’ll catch up with you later.” He was speechless and creeped out more than Robby could handle. He took off to hunt for some girls, flipping us off as he went.
That left six of us to plan our attack.
Some of us liked the adrenaline rush, the obvious bunch: Mags, Me, Robby, and Bo; though Robby had abandoned us for the moment. We wanted to hit every Mad Teacup, Rollercoaster, Rocket Blast, and every other insane ride they offered.
Ryan, on the other hand, had motion sickness issues and had forgotten to take his medicine, so he suggested arcade games and tamer rides. Amane voted Tame.
Chris grinned, his eyes practically looking in two different directions. “I like me fast rides, thrills, and close calls. But to balance things out, I’ll keep the kiddies here company.”
The kiddies - also known as Ryan, Amane, and Chris - targeted the lighter attractions like bumper cars, carousels, phantom tunnels, and boat rides. Every once in a while, Chris would suggest something outrageous, like the free fall cages, but he had no takers from the kiddie group.
The cover band at the center stage was playing Vampire Weekend's Unbelievers. The music blared through large speakers attached to poles and hung throughout the park.
Mags, Bo and I were on a mission to ride all the rollercoasters as often as we could. After doing the smaller mousetrap versions, we worked our way up to the big one.
***
When we were done with the big one, Bo looked up and stared adoringly at the lights of the giant Ferris wheel. She pointed a finger, and said, "That."
I would not call the Ferris wheel an exciting or stomach-turning ride, but we weren’t sure where the rest of the group was, and at that moment, it felt right, just the three of us.
We slipped into a car, with me in the middle. The air was cooler on the ride as we rose above the park. We spied the grounds below to try to find the others, and saw Ryan carrying a large stuffed animal, with Amane and Chris tagging along beside him stuffing their faces in enormous cotton candies. I was pretty sure that Ryan was trying to win the biggest possible stuffed animal he could for Bo.
When we got to the top of the wheel, the ride stopped. It was high. Nose-bleed high. We were at that exact point where we couldn't even see the other cars, so it felt like we were suspended above the world, with nothing to hold us up.
The car rocked tensely back and forth, and there was a strange silence in the car.
We were all wearing shorts, and I became aware that our legs were touching; Mags on my left, Bo on my right. The heat of their skin was warm against the cool night air, up above the park.
The car creaked ominously as it rocked, making me wonder how often this particular ride had had routine safety checks and maintenance. My hands gripped a little too tightly on the safety bar in front of me, and as I stared at my white knuckles, I noticed that my hands were also touching the girls' hands. Mags on my left. Bo on my right.
There was a strange silence in the car. A tension, emotional and sexual. If I were alone with Mags, she and I would certainly be making out and groping one another shamelessly right now. And if I were alone with Bo, I would be thinking of ways to profess my true love to her, to win her heart, and somehow fail to do it.
I was caught in the middle, literally and figuratively, between what I wanted and what I had.
I was afraid to move, or make any sign that I favored one girl over the other.
Bo and Mags could have been holding their breath. Not out of fear, but from the same thoughts that captivated me. At that moment, we had one another. All of us.
Bo turned to look at me, and when she did, Mags turned, to see what she was looking at. Again, I was caught in the middle, not knowing the drama and tensions that had existed between them long before I joined their group.
As the ride started to move again, Bo sighed. "I wish we didn't have to go back."
I reminded her, "It will still take a while before we get to the bottom."
"I don't mean the ride. I mean our lives, out there. I wish we could stay here and start fresh. Erase every mistake we have ever made, every bad feeling we have ever had, every person we have ever hurt, or the memories of those who have hurt us."
Mags was strangely introspective, hearing those words. She sadly shared, "That's your choice, Bonnie. Everything we do is a choice. Sometimes we have to choose between bad and worse. But we still have to choose."
She called Bo, Bonnie. It seemed uncharacteristically personal. I wonder what choices were bad and worse. Me and Ryan? Bo and Mags? Life and death?
By the time the ride ended, I was ready for a drink. We had bottomed
out.
***
After the somber Ferris wheel, we used our insight from the top to catch up to our friends and grab another bite, for those who wanted it. I stared at the lines to some of the food booths and tents with people eating. My God, we eat BBQ like savages here. Thousands lined up for pork.
Ryan was looking bored and embarrassed to be abandoned by his girlfriend. “I really wish I hadn’t forgotten my medicine. I actually do quite enjoy the rollercoaster, seriously, but if I get motion sickness, I will literally be worthless, and curled up in a ball for the rest of the night.”
“Shocking,” Chris grinned. “Sloths weren’t made to walk the ground.”
Amane told Ryan, right in front of us, "Don't mind THEM. We're having all the fun we want."
I could tell from Ryan’s expression that he was not.
Chris’s enormous beard was covered in cotton candy, making him look like a serial killer clown. He remarked randomly, “A parachute is a terrible thing to waste.”
Mags smiled, engaging him. “Especially if you sky dive.” He smiled back appreciatively.
To ease hurt feelings, we decided to do some low-key group rides, so we hit the Carousel.
Though it seemed like a childish thing, the carousel was a huge hit. In fact, it was such a big hit, we were told not to stand on the horses, and to keep our hands and feet on the ride, and to stay fully dressed, and not to be too loud or rude, since there were children present.
At one point we were asked not to return to the carousel. My friends with Smart phones were capturing the different successes and embarrassments of the night, and auto-posting to their FaceBucket pages.
Then we ran into Robby with a couple of girls, one on either arm. There was a blonde and a brunette. We nicknamed them Betty and Veronica. They seemed too young to be hanging with Robby, but not quite. They were probably not old enough to drink, but Robby had helped them out with that, through the goodness of his heart, and the hopes of his dick.
Mags and I tried to talk the others into watching the Tractor Pulls. Robby and his girls were into that too. But the ones who weren't from Georgia didn't understand why anyone would want to do that, let alone watch it.
Under The Covers Page 11