Slowly, the world began to take shape as the sleep faded and I realized I was looking at myself!
God! What a horrid sight to wake up to.
As more cobwebs were swept away, I realized that it was a painting of me. The warm, soft, delightful feeling against my chest, though, was female and very real. Hopefully Becca.
It sure felt like her tit in my hand, my finger slowly circling the nipple.
“That feels nice,” came a soft voice as her ass squirmed back into me.
“Morning, sweet Becca.”
“And to you, My Mountain.”
We shared a brief, morning-breath kiss. “I kinda thought you might be…”
“Freaking out this morning?” she finished for me.
“Actually… I did. I woke up earlier and started to freak out. Then realized that I should thank you instead.”
“How many women can say their man makes them pass out from pleasure on a regular basis?”
“Not a lot,” I chuckled.
“So, thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. Believe me, it is a rush for me to think I can do that… or you are that responsive… or…”
We snuggled for a brief eon or ten. I was delighted that she was being calm about last night. Really delighted. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I really didn’t need to start the day dealing with an emotional woman. This snuggling was a much better way to start the day.
“Are you running this morning?” I heard from deep within my chest, her Cave.
“Yep. Guess I better get ready before the speedster gets going. I’ll never catch him.”
“Is my brother that good?”
“He’s developing real well. By his senior year, he should be All-State. At least. And maybe not just as a running back.”
“Oh, a little surprise we cooked up for our friends at East. Watch during the first quarter. Every time Jason lines up in the slot-”
“You mean that back that’s at the end of the offensive line, but a step or two back?”
“Yep. That one. Well, every time he lines up there, we’re going to run the ball. Many of the times, he’ll get it or be in a option play.”
“Okay. Isn’t that telegraphing?”
“Yep. Thing is, as soon as their defensive backs move up when he lines up that way, somewhere in the second quarter, we think, he’s going to give a block, then drift into the secondary towards the middle. Behind the coverage. They should bite on a play action pass to one of the wide receivers. The next time we see him, he’ll be in the end zone celebrating.”
“Wicked.” We both chuckled.
“Will they fall for it?”
“We think so. We’re going to be telegraphing a lot of things during the first quarter. Then springing some surprises in the second. Then more in the third. And, if we need to, a lot more in the fourth. Although, we’d love to be able to save those until the play-offs.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“Not just me. This is a team effort and we’ve got exceptionally good coaches.”
“Not to mention a certain physicist-nerd hulk who owns almost all the school records for tackles and sacks.”
“Don’t you keep track?”
“You broke almost all the records last game. Let me see… Oh, yeah. Career sacks at 97. That’s about three per game for your high school career. Tackles? I might need to get up and get my calculator. Over 600, I lost count somewhere. Tackles for loss? Closing in on 200, I think it’s 180-something. Oh… Yeah! And, those are school, division, and State records.”
“You are a football-geek, aren’t you?”
“Nope. I’m a Mountain-geek. Out of the closet now.”
“And fully into my heart.”
How can they do that? One minute, facing away from you. Then in a move that defies the notions of friction, inertia, and momentum, they’re facing you and attacking with tongue, hands, and naughty bits!
Not that I’m complaining, but if I could figure it out, a perpetual motion machine could be built!
He melted me. Absolutely melted me. Again! Damn him.
As I was getting lost in a perfect kiss, well… almost perfect. Neither of us had that minty-fresh thing going on. Anyway, there was a tap at the door, then it opened.
“Oh, thank god! You’re semi-decent. Ready to run?” Jason said while pretending to avert his eyes.
I tried to find a pillow to throw at him, but realized that My Mountain was more than I could lift and heave. “Jase!”
“Hey, I listened first. You know, sister mine, it’s obvious when you’re…”
“Yep! And proud of it. Luis, if you have any energy left over after last night, are you ready to run and do trivial things like crush East today?”
“You know… I think I’ll just stay right here. This is much more fun than crashing my body into guys with padding on.”
“This is the example one of our captains is setting for the team?”
“No. This is payback for you barging in.”
“You’d let the team suffer?”
“Nope. But you are going to hate practice next week. I’m looking for a new tackling dummy.”
“I’d advise you take care of that before going onto the field.” I had to laugh.
“Okay, GUYS! If you haven’t noticed, you’re in estrogenland at the moment. Take the macho shit outside. Please. I want to sleep a bit more.”
“Jeez!” I got from my brother.
“Yes, your Royalness!” from my Mountain.
“Well, Sir Jason, please depart my bed chamber, post haste. And, Lord Mountain, you may remain for a moment.”
Can this week get any more surreal?
Wait! Wait! I didn’t say that. Nope. Nope. Nope. Never, ever, ever tempt the Fates. They have a lousy sense of humor.
Another cuddle, hug, kiss, and the bed got suddenly cold and massively empty. I burrowed into the pillows and tried to pull the covers over the Universe.
Only, the bloody thing wouldn’t go away. Instead of drifting back into the land of oblivion and sweet dreams, I thought about awakening earlier. I’m glad my panic attack didn’t wake Luis.
God, I had been so upset. I fell asleep… again! Before I could even work up a good cry and take the pity party to new levels, it dawned on me that My Mountain’s arms were lovingly wrapped around me. I was in My Cave, but also in my bed. I marveled at how absolutely wonderful that felt.
That’s when it hit me that my worries… concerns… issues about falling asleep were baseless. I mean, how many girls receive so much pleasure that they pass out? Then find their lover curled around them in a loving embrace? I would hazard a guess and say, ‘Not many.’
Now, if it continued to happen, then I’d begin to worry. Every now and then, it would be okay. Hey, My Mountain gives me monstrous orgasms. I’m just glad I got him off first. But, when it comes time for the big event… I had to chuckle to myself on that one. When that time comes, I intend to get worked up, but not drop off the cliff. No passing out before he gets Junior all the way in me. Then, the gods be damned, I’m going to let go completely. I hope.
Okay, I’m awake. Fully, completely, and absolutely. Time to get. Groan.
My first sight when I emerged from my cocoon was the painting of Luis. I wonder what he thought. I hope he realized that he was the last person I saw when I went to bed and the first person I saw when I woke up. Or, did he, being typically male, not even see it?
Ah, no sense in debating. Time to get up, get cleaned up and ready for school, then fix My Mountain a good breakfast.
Walking downstairs later, it hit me that today is the last day I have to be naked. The last day I have to put up with requests and unwanted fondling. Everything after this day is my choice or a crime. Literally.
“Good morning, Becky,” my mom said.
“What can I do to help?”
“Crack a couple of dozen eggs and whip them up for omelets. How was last night?”
Damn, there’s that sunburn thing again. “N-Nice.”
“Well, I hope you didn’t wear him out.”
“Mmmmooommmm!” Sunburn, hell. Insert face in blast furnace.
“Well, the night before a game…”
“We… Well, we didn’t go that far. I passed out again.”
“Lucky girl,” I thought I heard her say. “Get to work, young lady. Two hungry men need to be fed shortly.”
I enjoyed working with mom preparing breakfast. I hoped we had guessed right about the quantities that Luis would be eating. When the front door opened and Jase and Luis came in, I started to run into the hallway and greet My Mountain.
“Let him come down from the run and get a shower, Becky.”
“Trust me. He’s putting on his game face, just like Jason does. Today, let him come to you. Be there, but let him come to you. Tonight, after the game, you can smother him all you want.”
I let that rattle around in my brain for a while. My heart knew it was right. This is what My Mountain did with a significant part of his life, play football. It would be that way for years, hopefully. I’d be there to share the joy of his wins or the depression of his losses.
“It’s hard to adjust, mom.”
“I understand. You’ve been a one-woman-universe for many years. Self-contained. Now you’ve stepped into a world where everything is connected to everything in complex ways.”
“I think I’ll like it better, even if I have days like today.”
“I think you’ll do just fine. Plus, I’ve got my daughter back!” She wrapped me in a hug and we both shed a few tears while the showers upstairs ran.
“I like what I’m seeing.”
He made it a three way hug. A few seconds or years later Jason joined, then I felt the energy of My Mountain and all was right with the World. I got what my mother was saying. I felt the love and the interconnectedness of my family and my boyfriend. Yes! Boyfriend.
Food done and placed on the table, we began consuming.
“So, boys, how did the run go?” Daddy asked.
I phased out, with my hand on My Mountain’s thigh. I half listened to the stories Jase and he told about their run, their thoughts on the game, this week, and life in general. I did attempt to make the right noises at the right time, a talent I fear I will need to work on.
All the while, I thought about the symphony metaphor. Not just how it applied to art, but life. My father started the work with “how did…”, much as a conductor does when they raise their batons. His was a short introduction, only a few notes to define the key and hint at the themes.
Jason introduced the first theme of the piece. One of excitement, new responsibilities, high energy, and optimism. It was a very fast theme in a minor key, which, as I’ve learned, is how to express pluses.
My Mountain’s theme was next. It was one of cautious optimism. Same key, of course, but the tempo was more controlled. At the same time, there was a restrained energy just waiting to burst forth when directed to do so.
Mom added her theme to the exposition phase. The tempo dropped and added an undercurrent of concern and caution. Just as a mother should do. Yet, still, there was energy and optimism in her theme.
My father played a part as the orchestra when he performed the transition phrase and shifted keys, asking about how the week had gone for all. The key shifted to a related major key. The tempo slowed, the energy shifted. The themes were repeated, but in a more lyrical way with still a flavor of optimism, but uncertainty as to how the future would play out based on what had happened this week.
Then he blew my whole metaphor by asking me to introduce a new theme. I wanted to scream that this is just not done in the sonata-allegro form!
“Changes, lots of changes. I’d say most for the good,” and I winked at Luis while squeezing his knee, the chorus responded with laughter. Then I realized this was what they were talking about in the definitions of the form. This was the codetta, the transition out of the exposition into the development phase of the work.
My father had conducted this symphony perfectly. I could only marvel as we ended it with the coda, then we headed to school. No doubt, to play the rest of this opus throughout the day.
Becca was… Well, different, as we walked to the car. It was a good different, just different. This is going to take me a while to figure out. It is like something happened this morning and she’s grown so much.
I mean, I like it.
Yeah. I do.
When we got to my car, before I opened her door for her, I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, my dear Becca.”
“Being in my life.”
She melted into me.
Damn. I think I did something right!
“I’ve been thinking…” she started. I waited. Decided I needed to take a couple more deep breaths.
Finally, “Everyone has been telling me how to give you… space… today… and…”
“Sweetie,” I pulled her in closer. “I meant what I said. I’m in joy that you are in my life. Please don’t pull away today because people are telling you that I need to, well, whatever it is I need to do.”
“I don’t want to distract you. Get you hurt.”
“You’ll get me hurt if you pull away. Yes, I’d love less drama today than any day this week, but none of that was me being close to you. I can love you and get my game face on.” I thought about what I had just said and realized how true that was. “Even better, I can put on a better game face with you in my life. You make me whole.”
My chest got very wet.
I’m pretty sure I helped moisturize her scalp as well.
Two heartbeats later, my lips were being ravaged. There was a very delectable butt in my hands. Two rock hard missiles were pressed into my chest. And, Junior noticed.
It mattered not to me what he thought the agenda was.
My heart was overflowing. I felt my roots extended from my feet to the center of the Earth. My head, my crown point, was in outer space. I was me. I was Becca. I was. And, I wasn’t. We were everything, and nothing.
“Ahem…” Jason’s voice penetrated. “I need you to move your car so I can go to school. I know you don’t have anything important this morning, Luis. Some of us do.”
One heartbeat. Two.
We all fell into a mass, laughing.
Becca’s dad added to it when he honked to us as he pulled away.
We untangled and sorted out cars, seating, and I finally folded myself into reliable-yet-not-flashy.
“Please, My Mountain, show me how to make music come out of this thing!”
Patiently, I walked her through turning on the music system, walking through the menus, even showing her my playlists, and inviting her to make up some of her own.
She surprised me by picking one of my classical playlists that started with Beethoven’s symphony number 3 (in E flat) and was mixed with more Beethoven, Schubert, and the Beatles.
Yeah, I have strange tastes. Sue me. My lawyer’s office is just around the corner, by the railroad tracks.
Her hand on my thigh, squeezing occasionally, and kisses at stop lights, we made it to school. She delivered me to the gym then headed to the Art rooms.
I was marveling at the new Becca and how much I really did love her as I walked into the locker room.
“Ah, good, you’re here. Let’s check out that hand.”
“Good morning, Coach Mac.” The team doctor standing next to him chuckled.
They poked, prodded, and whispered as they examined my hand. I was finally pronounced fit, just stay off the heavy weights involving my hands today and wear my gloves during the game, which I would do anyway.
Friday was my normal lower body workout anyway, so everything worked well. I pushed less than my normal, and just shy of torture reps. Keep the blood flowing, keep the proteins building muscle. Repair. Connect, Strengthen. Flexibility. There was no need to grow anything today. I’d need all that energy tonight.
I walked into the wet room and was handed a big baggy for my hand. Yes, the mega-gallon size. Jeez, what a way to protect the stitches. Before I sank into the whirlpool, I hit the play button on the resident boom box.
I had to laugh when the first song up was “Nowhere Man” by the Beatles. How that fit the theme this morning and with Becca’s music selections.
The water was doing its magic for my body, the music for my soul. I was settling into a nice, deep zone of peace when a tidal wave swept over me.
“Damn, Hollow Dick! Did you have to use a cannonball to get into the other tub!”
“Just checking, Rubber Dicky. How’s the hand?”
“Not perfect, but more than up to the task tonight.”
“How’s your head?”
“Wet. How’s yours?”
“And the horse you rode in on, asshole.”
“What are we gonna do to East?”
“There should be a law against it.”
“There probably is, if it weren’t for it being a game.”
“Game? This is not a game. This is about honor. School pride. Getting some more of these folks scholarship shots. Did I say pride?”
“Yep. You forgot one little, itty-bitty detail.”
“Doh!” He slapped himself in the forehead like that cartoon character. “The State Championship.”
“You mean… You… I mean… Us?” I feigned ignorance, putting on my best innocent look. Yeah, about the same look that gets a man thrown out of a… Well, let’s just leave it at that, shall we. I wouldn’t know anything about titty clubs and such.
“Yeah. There’s some stupid rumor that the winner of this game might be on a straight path to that destination.”
“Sounds like a large mountain to climb.”
“And we will.”
“Yes we will.”
“Damn right we will!” Phil shouted as he came into the wet room.
“Fuck Yeah!” came a chorus of voices through the door into the main locker room.
“Me thinks perhaps this assemblage is most prepared to join in battle with our crosstown rivals,” Jamal said with his most proper English accent.
As the laughter died, we focused. One last session in the tubs to walk through the game plan. We went through every aspect of the game we could work out ahead of time, know full well that we were going to see surprises, just as we were going to our damnedest to surprise them. From how to handle the coin toss to how to get safely off the field if we should blow them out.
The discussion was focused. As we went on, the key players, then the starters, all joined, filling the room.
We were ready.
Now, to hold this mood through the day and through the game.
I was scribbling notes on my observations this morning about the Sonata-Symphonic form and its metaphors in real life, just sitting in art room, my Naked Towel firmly protecting my butt from the hard, cold stool at my reserved work area. And protecting the stool from, well, my fertile imagination and my body’s reactions to some more prurient thoughts.
My devious mind drifted from classical music to more primitive forms of music. Primitive rhythms that beat through the body. Some of those rhythms that I wanted to experience in a very real way. The man I wanted to share them with filling my internal vision.
I started when a soft pair of arms snaked around me and the feeling of a very nice set of boobs with very erect nipples pressed into my back. “Morning, Becca. Sleep well and not enough, I hope?”
“Slept well and long, I think fortunately.”
“Well, he did it to me again. He took me so high, so often, that my brain turned to mush and didn’t solidify until this morning.”
“With or without Junior?”
“Without. But, soon, very soon, with.”
“Good for you. I slept with Mike last night.”
“You didn’t wear him out, did you?”
“Like you, he turned me to mush, early. We’re both very well rested today. I want to say damnit, but I do understand. I just hope he doesn’t use all of himself up on the field tonight!”
“Me too. But, I’m planning on being around all weekend. I’m sure the topic will come up at some point.”
“You go, girl!” The hug got tighter and the kiss was sweet, loving, but reserved. “I talked to Mike about us.”
I waited for her to go on, when she didn’t,“Aaannnddd???”
“He’s as cool as Luis is about it. He’s even cool if I want to mess around with Luis. Are you still cool with it?”
“Yep. Are you expecting me to do something with Mike? Is he?”
“Nope. He said there was, ‘No way in hell I’d turn her down! Damn, I’m not blind!’ And I support him. Up to you and Luis.”
“I don’t know…”
“Sweet Becca, lots of time.” I got another kiss. This one had my toes wanting to curl up, just a bit. Well, maybe a lot. I know I’m going to be getting a new towel before too much longer.
A hearty, mirthful laugh interrupted us. “So, so much passion! Perhaps I should put some mattresses around the room!” Francesca managed to get out between fits. Her smile was bright, her eyes twinkling mischief.
“Lights, action, camera! I love it! My fans!” Rosalee preened and bowed to the imaginary cameras.
“What we must do to further our art,” I stated in my best screen-diva impersonation, posing as artfully as I could. Well, at least I thought it was.
Not that anyone was noticing, the three of us collapsed into howls shortly after.
“Cavolo!” Came out of Francesca’s mouth.
“Cabbage?” I was slowly learning Italian. Don’t know why!
“Madonna! Ah, the things they teach. You’re right, but when used in that way, it’s roughly like… Uhm… Yes, Holy Crap or something like that.”
“Crapping cabbages?” Rosa asked.
That was it. Time to slap knees and bend a lot while trying to catch the next breath. Tears of joy beginning to flow.
This day, this last mandatory naked day, was starting off well!
Just as the three of us were hugging, tears of laughter still leaking the joy of the moment, Margie came in. She went from the speed of light to gaping, opened-mouth wonder in an instant.
My Mountain would have loved the physics involved. Well, at least that’s what ran through my brain between fits of giggles. Yep, giggles. Damn! I’m a high school girl after all.
We managed to pull ourselves together and Margie found her focus. Like she could be thrown for too long? About like how far I could toss My Mountain.
“Here,” she said, holding out three wrist bands to both Rosa and I. Before either of us could ask, “We’re starting a program within the Program. Wear the green band if you don’t care if requests are made before someone fondles. Wear the yellow for ask first. Red, approach with caution.”
“Doesn’t this violate the rules of the Program?”
“Yes and no. Yes, we have no way to enforce it, other than we think most of the student body is going to go with it. The few that won’t? Well…”
“I can think of a few people more than willing to enforce the request aspect of the Program,” Rosa beat me to saying.
“Yep. As for the other side of the Program, it is well within the rules. They allow jewelry. What’s the issue?”
“The spirit?” I asked.
“The rules. I won’t say law, since there appears to be no real law supporting the Program.”
“What?” Rosa, Francesca, and I asked at the same time.
“Yep. The Program is not supported by any legal means. It just happened. Became regulation, not law. Now, I don’t think any of us have problems with the nudity,” we all agreed, “The rest isn’t even supported by the original charter of the Program.”
“What rest?” Rosa and I asked.
“Reasonable requests, just as Doctor C said, activities outside the normal school day, and such.”
“Wow!” we all three said.
“What now?” Rosa asked.
“Expect backlash from the Program people. Not this week, maybe not next. Soon, though. In the meantime, these bracelets and our educational program-”
“What educational program?” Rosa, again, asked before I could.
“With the local authorities.”
“The police and the State’s attorneys.”
“Huh?” I got out first.
“Assault. Battery. Sexual assault. Rape.”
“Damn!” The three of us got out. Although Francesca’s sounded more like, ‘Porca vacca!’
I noticed that Margie had on a yellow wrist band. I selected the same and pulled it onto my left wrist. Rosa was doing the same.
“You’re damned straight. I’ve learned the value of owning my own destiny this week. I may play the slut, it doesn’t mean I don’t want control over my body and life.” She squared off with each of us, pointing her delicious boobies as she said it. “I’m not anyone’s whore, especially the Program’s. I choose.”
Francesca started clapping and trying to hug Rosa at the same time. “Just like me, Madonna, just like me, cara!” Tears dropping from her eyes, telling a story of long ago. She gathered Rosa into a hug of love.
As I walked into the locker room from the wet room, most of the team was there. Michael Simms, the only one of the co-captains not in the wet room, signaled Mike, Phil, and I over to his locker.
“I had the delightful pleasure of having a naked nymph come and visit me this morning. I’d say more, but she’s our big monster’s,” pointing at me, “sister.”
“What was Margie doing here this morning?”
“Well, since you didn’t come home last night…” That got the expected hoots and howls, and not just from our small group. “She needed to get something to you and make a request of the football team.”
“Okay, Luis. Save it for the field and our opponents. Damn, he had his Wheaties this morning.”
“And a bit more.” Phil got an elbow in the ribs. Carefully. Didn’t want to put our quarterback out of commission. Yet.
“Here.” He handed me three wrist bands. “Wear one, it shows your request level. Red, leave me alone. Yellow, ask. Green, go for it.” I pulled the extra large (thanks, Margie) yellow band on my wrist. The three other co-captains all nodded with my choice.
“It’s been a long week. I’m tired of being pawed at.”
“Good. Well, the second part. She asked if the team could help spread the word about the bands and help seeing that they work.”
“Today?” we all asked as one.
“She said to just spread the word. Monday we can start to help, beginning with selection.”
“Good idea. We need everyone’s head on straight today. And, no one getting into trouble over the Program. Including you,” Phil said, pointing at my chest.
“No problems. My head is there. Gary, although a friend, is in deep shit tonight.” Gary is East’s starting center, the key of the offensive line, and who I would be lining up against most of the night.
“Amen!” the other three said.
“Okay, I’m going to gather the team. At least we can start honoring the bands today. Luis, I’ll need you as a model.”
“No problems. Let me get my official, nude jersey on.” That got chuckles.
“Okay, team meeting in 5.”
We all spread the word as we got dressed. Yes, I actually got a chance to dress. I pulled on my sneakers and that funky mesh jersey. At least I had my number on it. That felt good. And, a pattern of our school colors. When I turned around, I found every other team mate in the locker room wearing a similar styled mesh jersey, albeit longer.
Damned pollen in the air.
“Thanks,” I managed to choke out.
“We’re a team, no matter what they try to do to us,” our punter and place kicker said. Which, in and of itself, is amazing. He never talks.
“Team meeting!” Phil hollered.
The co-captains stood on a bench in front of the room as the team gathered. As near as I could tell, we were all there. Even the coaches and assistants, although they hung out in the back and stayed out of the way.
“First, a bit of news about the Program. Michael?”
“Folks, I was approached this morning by one of the current Nakeds, our own Luis’s sister Margie. She handed me three wrist bands,” he held them up. “And, asked if I could spread the word to the team. Red means no requests, please. Yellow means ask. Green means go for it, but show respect. That last from me.”
“And me,” said Phil.
“And me,” said Mike.
“And me,” I growled.
“And the coaching staff,” said Coach MacF.
“Next week, we’ll talk about how we, as a team, can help with this effort to bring back respect to the school-” the cheers were overwhelming. Damn! I didn’t realize this many people cared. “But, for now, we have a bit more business to take care of. Seems we have a meeting planned for this evening. I know no one here is looking forward to it-”
The growls were almost overwhelming. Hell, I found myself doing it.
“Beat!” Mike growled.
“Beat!” Michael growled, like only a linebacker can.
“Beat!” I growled with my full game face on.
“Beat!” Phil shouted.
“Good. At least you are aware of the engagement we’ve planned for the evening. Now, we worked on the Haka for a bit last night. Let’s do a couple of run throughs. Plus, any of your captains may stop you in the halls today and begin it. Be ready.”
“And,” I spoke up, “Thanks for the jerseys.”
“Beat East!” started in the back of the room.
The chant built and built. We all formed a big huddle in the middle of the room, jumping in cadence. Sharing the energy. Certain in our focus. Ready. We went through the Haka with Coach MacF and the captains coaching the others. We handed out cards with phonetic pronunciations of the chants and responses. And, more importantly, the action to go with each. Simple stuff. Stomp right foot forward. Slap right elbow, slap thighs, and such.
The co-captains left together. Waiting for Mike and I were My Becca and the lovely Rosa. Hugs followed, bands were shown. Somehow, Mike had gotten hold of the extra bands Phil had used in the locker room and was wearing a yellow to match Rosa. She was beaming.
Walking into the main school hallways with Becca was a treat. It was a blast of colors. Tons of students were waiting near the entrance closest to the athletic center. When we opened the fire doors and entered, the cheerleaders were waiting, the crowd was ready.
I’m sure My Becca was taking all this in and could do much better describing it than I could. What hit me was the energy. The support. The school was willing us to win.
“Beat!” came from the back of the crowd in a semi-quiet moment.
“East!” It’s wicked when a 60 person strong football team screams it. It’s empowering and overwhelming when a thousand students respond.
Phil moved in front of the team and without saying anything, let us know we were going to do the Haka. He had his index card cheat sheet, just in case.
“Ringa pakia!” Phil screamed as he squared off to the students and stomped his right foot forward. The rest of the team struggled a bit to get in sync.
“Uma tiraha!” He puffed out his chest. We were now all following now his actions reasonably well.
“Turi whatia!” We bent our spread knees in a sort of squat.
“Hope whai ake!” We slapped our thighs in unison. The crowd was stunned silent. Staring like people do when the train wreck is happening right in front of them, much to fascinated, but frightened. Was the team going to run amok?
“Waewae takahia kia kinoh!” We all stomped our feet as hard as we could, advancing and retreating to the crowd. Challenging. Slapping body parts and making threatening faces the whole time.
“Ka mate, ka mate!” Phil finished the opening while we held first one arm up straight and slapped the elbow, then the other.
“Ka ora’ Ka ora’” We added. He’s saying we die, we’re saying we live.
We ran through a brief version as a team. Chanting, stomping feet, slapping elbows, and wagging tongues with eyes wide open. Fierce warriors. At the end, we all had our right foot forward, chest puffed out, arms up in a wide U, eyes wide open, tongues out.
“West!” Someone shouted from the crowd.
“Warriors!” The crowd shouted louder. Damn, I love it when a plan comes together.
“We are Your Warriors!” Phil shouted.
“West!” the crowd shouted.
“Warriors!” the team responded. Still stomping, tongue wagging, and slapping elbows.
Damn, how that psychs you up! My energy was reeling.
As soon as I straightened up, I had an arm full of Becca. Damn, I didn’t even feel her leave me. Is that fucked up, or what?
Her kiss ended all thought.
“Oh. My. God!” was all she got out before melting into me. I’d swear she was having an orgasm. When my hand came down to her ass to support her, I figured I was right when I felt the moisture. Damn!
It was a dream. It had to be a dream. That could not have been real. The assault of colors. The energy. The cohesion. Then, that primal dance.
When My Mountain stuck out his tongue and wagged it around, I started coming. And he didn’t stop. Then I latched on to him. And, well, the world went away. Again.
“Hi,” I said into the dark eyes of his.
His smile was enough to blot out the brightest light. “Welcome back, My Becca.”
“My?” Did I hear that? Was I dreaming it? When did he start this?
“If you’ll have me.”
“Would you mind if I just melted here?” I managed to ask.
His laugh made me smile more. It was pure joy. There was no hurt in it. No fear. Just joy. And deep. I guess when your chest is larger than most buildings, there’s a lot of wind in there. Plus a deep cavern to let it build from and echo around.
Hmm… Damn! I’m seeing paintings everywhere. Seeing stories that I want to start writing. And, for the next few days, no time. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
I’d guess I’m over the Naked stuff. It’s been at least a few days since I thought about being naked. My only issue was that naked was the opposite of hiding. Now, I don’t want to hide. I want to be part of all this. It’s fun. It’s… well, interesting. Different. Exciting. Thrilling. Terrifying at moments. The wrist band gives me hope, too. So far, so good. Plus, My Mountain allows me to be… well, me.
My arm as far around his waist as I could get it, his arm over my shoulder, his fingertips damned close to causing another joy-gasm, we managed to get to home room. Supporters throughout the school kept cheering the team, and respecting the bracelets.
So much I had missed by hiding. I thought I had been observing. I guess what My Mountain’s physics books would say is true. There is no such thing as an impartial observer. When you observe you change the system, when you’re in the system, you are changed. You can’t escape the system. I’d take it one further, you cannot observe properly without living it and… well, the best way to live it is fully.
A snapshot is just that. It’s a context free slice of life. A photograph is done to fill in context. A painting captures the moment and adds the feeling, the energy, the emotions, and such. It tells a deeper story when done right.
And here comes the sonata form again. Themes. Themes. Themes. Twists. Turns. Restatements. Explorations.
In other words, life. Lived. Not life observed.
We were a few feet from the door to home room and a hand squeezed my ass. I don’t remember a request. I couldn’t be sure.
“Yellow!” a voice in the hall said.
The hand disappeared. A small voice said, “Sorry.”
“Thanks,” I managed.
“Thank you,” came from Luis to both the grabber and the warner. Wow!
“Sweetie, this is going to work, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Us? The Program? Tonight?” he wearily asked.
The hug was… Damn those Einsteinian holes in the universe. I just dropped through another one.
And, in spite of all my sexual awaking, this wasn’t at all sexual. Ponder that. Yes, I will. It would seem there is this place between friends and sexual partners. Maybe not. Oh, hell. I’m not getting it. I think the word is intimacy.
Home room was. As usual, I was in My Mountain’s lap, but without the drama of the past week. Announcements were. Oh, yea. Something about a game tonight. Doh! Like we didn’t know that.
No mention of the bracelets.
They did mention the music program for Sunday night. “Are we going?”
“I’d love to. Rosa is doing something…”
“She’s playing a piece she composed. It’s supposed to be very good.”
“So, we’re going on a date?”
I caught myself beginning to look down at my hands. The old Rebbecca trying to come out. I lifted my eyes and looked into his. “You betcha!” I giggled.
In the indeterminate time between the announcements and the bell for the next class, “Can you tell me about the bracelets?”
She was a little slip of a girl I had just barely noticed. I realized she’d been in school at least as long as me. She was as good at hiding as I used to be.
“Sure. Uhm. Sorry, you are…?” Damn that sunburn.
Hanging her head, she managed to look up through her hair and meet my eyes, “Sally.”
“Sally, yes. The bracelets. We’re going to try to make them work.” I reached out and put my finger under her chin. Slowly, I lifted it. I got her to look me in the eyes. “We’re too much alike. I used to hide as well as you’re doing.”
“I know. It… Well… It… Scares me.”
“When I walked into the office Monday morning, you want to talk about fear? I thought my disguise had been perfect. But, you know what I found?”
I shuddered on My Mountain’s lap. “Well, yes. But, beyond that? I found a world I had denied. And, with friends and love, it not only wasn’t so bad, it’s been pretty damned amazing.”
“Even with the attacks and…”
“It starts like this. Friends. If you’re chosen Monday, we’ll be waiting for you outside. We’ll be there for you. Not just Luis and I, but many others. We’ll help you. If not this Monday, whenever. In the meantime, join us for lunch or homeroom or…”
The tears were streaming down her face. Yet, she continued to look at me. I stood and hugged her. Luis stood behind me and hugged us both, and said, “Sally, we’re here for you.”
Classmates started to come over. While I kept comforting Sally, My Mountain asked them if they would be willing to support Sally.
Hands joined my hug with her.
‘A much better week than you though?‘
‘It’s been incredible, actually.‘
I was so proud of Becca. What she had done for Sally was amazing.
“You’ve come a long way, sweetie,” I whispered in her ear.
We relaxed a bit. When the bell rang, we headed out into the halls to test the bands. Word must have spread. No one groped that hadn’t asked first. I honored most of the requests. A couple, I had to turn down as I dropped Becca off and then when I entered AP Calculus classroom.
“Mr. Singh,” I said to the teacher before sitting down. “I’d like to apologize for this week-”
“Quite alright, Mr. Contadino. I am most looking forward to watching you best our rivals this evening, although it is not a proper game.”
I had to laugh at Mr. Singh. We’ve joke about cricket versus football during the four years I had known him. He’d even gotten me to come to a cricket match. I’m sure the game makes sense. It just looked like guys dressed in white standing around to me. “I’ll make sure I bowl a few of the players for East for you.”
His chuckles even had an Indian accent. “As for the work this week, I believe you are sufficiently ahead of the class, so no harm done.”
“No sticky wickets, eh?”
We both laughed.
“I am required to ask, do you need relief?”
“Not today, no. I need all my energy.”
“Quite.” I swear, he blushed.
Class passed in a cloud of integrals of natural logarithms and how important natural logs are to math, science, and engineering. Mr. Singh showed how the formal definition worked and it finally clicked with me. With his example, I understood how the natural log represents the area under an inverse function of x. Fun!
So, maybe this week wasn’t such a waste after all.
During class change, I made it to Becca’s classroom with no problem. A few requests and they were willing to walk with me as they played with Junior. A few people made requests of Becca and she handled it well.
I delivered her to Mrs. Richardson and AP English with a kiss, a hug, and promise to walk her to lunch.
“Luis?” Another student in the hall asked. “What was that y’all did this morning?”
“It’s called a Haka, a Maori dance.”
“It was wicked!”
“Thanks! We’ll be doing it again, right before the game tonight.”
“Beat East!” cheers rose up around me.
I stomped my foot forward, crouched, put on my wide-open-eyes face, and stuck out my tongue as far as it would go.
The cheers followed me into AP Physics.
“Well, Mr. Contadino. I must say, that was quite the entrance.” I get the distinct impression he was thinking of personal uses for my tongue. I’m told it is rather long.
“Just practicing the Haka.”
“Any chance you need relief?” he asked, eyes wandering down my torso.
“Nope. Not today.” I managed to choke down a laugh.
“Hmmm…” He turned, went to the board, and began class. Back to star sequences, goodie. He pulled up the Hertzsprung-Russell diagram showing the main sequence of stars, the giants, and dwarfs. Today was that cluster of Giants that form an interesting branch off the main sequence. The branch forming the red giants and red supergiants was a specific focus and how they had moved into helium fusion at their cores and were actually burning the hydrogen off, thus headed for collapse. Alpha Orionis, sometimes known as Betelgeuse, was given as an example of a red supergiant we can easily see from Earth without a telescope. Just look at the right shoulder of Orion, which is actually the left star at the top! Confusing, but The Hunter is twisting as he pulls his bow.
The class then went into orbit with the asymptotic giant branch of stars. At this point, words were replaced almost 100% by mathematical symbols as the strange spectral scales were discussed and a different fusion process was presented.
When the bell rang, I again found myself wishing we could continue this conversation. So much to explore!
With a hearty, “Beat East!” from Mr. Thompson, I entered the hall. I found a hand on Junior, without a request.
“Excuse me, Miss,” came from Jamaal as he was passing by. “Do you see the yellow wristband this young man is wearing? That indicates he wishes to be asked before the touching may begin.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.” She started to take her hand away. Junior was enjoying the attention.
“It’s okay. Feel free, I just need to walk fast while you do,” I said. She kept up with me as I headed to Becca’s class.
I was really pleased to see the football team taking up the charge of helping with the wristbands. I’d have to mention the way Jamaal pulled that off, it was perfect. Polite, not threatening (as his size can make him appear), and to the point.
When I got to Mrs. Richardson’s classroom, a lovely bundle of flesh came flying out the door and into my arms. The girl fondling Junior didn’t break rhythm. “Ahem, do I need to stop now?”
Becca looked down between her legs, “Nope. Have fun, dear. It is quite big enough to share.”
I couldn’t help but give a deep hearty laugh, joined by My Becca, as we headed down the hall to Naked Lunch.
Note:“In My Life” by The Beatles. There is much dispute as to how much of the song is Lennon’s and how much is McCartney’s. I’ll leave that to the historians. To me, it is a meditation on the life led to reach this point in life. The original version may be found on “Rubber Soul”.
Coming soon: Part V (Friday) – Chapter 33 — “The House is Rockin’” by Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble.