PART TWO m – the Bad Thing

  "Right?"

  "That's me."

  "I'm sure you noticed that me and Hurry are spending time with Lightning. Its not like you think, and you're not being punished. Hurry is learning to do therapy. Right… did you have fun growing up at home?"

  "It was all right."

  "Well, Light didn't have as much fun as you did. We're trying to make her feel better, and Hurry's trying to learn how to do her thing for her degree better. If you could try to understand, it would be a great help."

  "Fine."

  That was back to him. To Light?

  "Oh, I'm just rocking my eggs. Egg bitch."

  "Tardfoot gets an om-lette… tardfoot gets an om-lette… I get over, easy… I get over, easy…"

  "Oh, shut up already. The only thing over easy? Is you."

  "Hmm. You were the serving wench, who went over easy, the way you described it…"

  "Shut up. Little Miss Two Holes."

  "Yeah right. Look at me. I'm a modern woman. I'm fighting the patriarchy. What do you want on your burger. Can I run and get you another beer? Is it cold enough? Okay, I'm gonna bend way-y-y over, and get you another beer. Now, don't slip anything in my bum, when I do it, okay? Oh! My! What is that! There's something in my bum! What is that?"

  "Oh can it. Your can has seen more action than the bathroom at the bus station, and you know it."

  "Yeah. Just like your faggot boyfriend."

  "He was bi, and you know he was hot."

  "Gee. Hot guy, making his boyfriend jealous with you. Wow. I'd brag about that one…"

  "Will you shut your egg hole already. Like only eggs go in there anyways."

  "Sometimes."

  "Pffft. Like, all the time."

  "Jealous… maybe I'm a good girl now. You never know."

  "A good girl? You better get some more coffee in with the eggs, because you need to wake up. You, are still dreaming."

  "Good-er than you. Some wing girl you are. Oh, I'm supposed to be backing up my wing. But wait, I can get it in the bum. Bum, wing, bum, wing… bum! Pffft."

  "Oh, shut up."

  "Oh, my! It went… right in! My st boyfriend taught me how to do that, like, so good!"

  "Oh, stick an egg in it, before it goes in another hole. Egg bitch."

  "Jeal-ous… jeal-ous…"

  "Shut up…"

  I cpped them quiet.

  "Girls. Girls. Do we have to do this through the whole breakfast? Maybe me and Wiz wanna talk some too. Jesus. Wiz?"

  "Yeah. I could have stayed in the service. Getting to work on a multi million dolr computer network. Working with the MP's. Could be there right now. Cashing in my GI bill I wasn't using. Maybe buying a cool bike or sports car. But oh no. I had to go to college. Get my education. Do something important with my life. Here I am, making eggs. Listening to this. I mean, why would I have wanted to stay anyways. I could be up to my neck in cute Latinas? Be all important. But oh no… I have to hear all about the eggs. Its much better, trust me. Oh, if my MP buddies could see me now…"

  We all giggled at his fake compining. Light was amused.

  "Wizzy. Do the… MP voice."

  "Ma'am? I need to see your license, registration, and your underwear, please."

  The girls giggled.

  "No, Wizzy. The scary one…"

  "You zy whores don't start cleaning your ptes?!?! I'm going to pull your eyeballs out and skull fuck you! Move, it! Move, it! Chew!"

  They both giggled.

  Right tried to get the upper hand with her best friend teasing.

  "Eye sockets, about the only cherry holes you have left now, right?"

  "Shut up. Like you're a basket of fresh cherries."

  "Look who's talking. Not exactly cherry juice on your rag once a month either."

  He talked to his pte, as if it were talking back.

  "Don't ever get married Wiz. Why's that? Because then you have to deal with teenagers. It'll kill you. Why, that's great advice guys. Thanks. And? Here I sit… dealing with teenagers at the kitchen table… gd I took their advice…"

  Right punched him in the shoulder gently.

  "Oh, shut up. You love us, and you know you do."

  "Yes. I'm just teasing. I love you all equally. I just love Hurry a little more equally than all of you, that's all."

  "Hmm. That's better."

  "Gd you're happy."

  Lightning went and put her dishes in the sink and rinsed them off with hot tap water carefully. Right was aghast.

  "What the hell. Normally we're lucky you don't hide the dirty ptes."

  "Hmm. I told you, I'm a good girl now. And good girls? Rinse their ptes. Mm…"

  And? She stuck her tongue out at Right. Jesus.

  "Oh yeah. Rinse your pte off, and cherries pop out all over you. Yep. It works just like that."

  Lightning smiled and all but danced to the stairs to go up and get changed into her workout clothes. Right sipped the rest of her coffee with us finishing up.

  "Well? How's it going…"

  "What, dear. How's what going."

  "Well? You're… doing therapy or whatever, using her as a… psych project, right?"

  "Well, yeah. Its going fine, I guess. I'm new at it. My first… client, really."

  "Well, are you making her feel better about getting raped?"

  "What makes you think that, hun?"

  "I'm majoring in basket weaving, so I can make my 2.5 without studying 8 hours every night. I'm not stupid."

  "Why… would you assume that, anyways."

  "She can't get into a car with a boy. Why do you think we double dated the Army boys? So she could go out on dates for once. Why else would a young girl be afraid to get into a car with a boy? Not like she has a limp from a bad car wreck, so. Duh."

  "She's your friend."

  "She's my best friend. Are you helping her?"

  "Does everybody think this?"

  "No. Just me. Because I live with her. Because I noticed the car thing. And no, I never said a word to the other girls. She has enough to deal with. So, I hope you can… fix her up. Never keep a boyfriend the way she's going. I feel bad. She wants one, too."

  "She's doing very well. And I didn't say that's what it was, it could be anything. That's your assumption. Client therapist confidentiality is sacred."

  "Well. Whatever it is. Good luck."

  "Thanks. You wish her good luck, or me."

  "Both. If she could help herself, wouldn't she have already done it."

  "I guess."

  "We're working out?"

  "We pn on it."

  "Amen."

  I helped him get the kitchen squared away, and we went upstairs. I locked the door, and couldn't help just a couple minutes of fetch. I know its silly, but I missed it. I'm pretty sure he did too. But I know what's in my head, and I have to guess and read what's going on in his. And anyone else. With a shorter game of naked fetch than I was wanting, I burned most of my time getting dressed. Which of course by that I mean? He dressed me. Another of my favorite things in our normal morning routine. I was about to get my spikes ced up, when I heard the ticking at the door. I jerked my head at him to get the door. Not like we don't both know who it is.

  It was Lightning. She said Right was already downstairs waiting, she was going down with us. She set her bag at the top of the steps and came in. He closed the door behind her. Locking it was natural and automatic for either of us.

  "Well? Don't just stand there. Come on…"

  He came back over, and started cing up my spikes. I smiled at her, and patted the seat on the bed next to me as I scooted over to make sure she had half the space. She sat and stared at him taking my spikes back off, and readjusting them just so, then tightening up the ces. Watching me for how tight was perfect, and I nodded and he went to it. She was still in her bare feet, and had her practice socks in one hand, and a pair of her spikes in the other. He did the other one the same way. Off and back on, then the slow tightening up, working up the ces. My nod, his final work. Then I put them down. He looked at me, and I shrugged.

  "So finish it."

  Ankles held sweet, and a little kiss on each ce. Ritual. I slung my knees over his shoulders, and got some morning kissing in. Definitely not my normal amount, but enough to tide me over. Abbreviated ritual is better than no ritual.

  "He dresses me every morning. Before practice."

  "I see."

  "I like it. You? Why don't you ask her out on a second date again. Make sure she still wants to go. Then? Help her finish getting dressed."

  I gave him a final couple seconds of morning kiss, and he went over to her. He repeated asking her out, and she agreed quickly. He put her socks on her carefully, and adjusted them just so, the same way he did for me every morning. First one then the other. She got another asking out, and she agreed again. He then got a spike on. Showed her how he loosened all the ces, and saw if she liked an adjustment like I did, before starting to tighten them one row at a time, working up and snugging it, and cing up. He asked if it felt good, or if she wanted to adjust the procedure. She shook her head no, and he moved on to the next spike the same way. Then a final little kiss on each ce.

  He thanked her for agreeing to go out with him again, and she tugged her finger up into the air. She smiled at me and slung her legs over his shoulders, then got some morning kissing in. Then we all went down and had a normal morning workout. Normal for what we did, maybe, but not how we did it. I told him to run us to death a little. So? He did. After a break on the little cement wall, we all stretched out again. Me and him stretch out together, and the girls do it for each other. Holding legs, pushing legs.

  He's interested in the morning run mainly. If I'm alone, he works out with me. With us here, he still did it. But he's more of a team manager than a pyer. He feeds us balls, retrieves them and feeds us again. He lets me direct him to help out other ways now. He's great practice for the pushing and shoving and jostling of ball keeping and ball stealing. Boys are stronger than girls, and its great practice for all of us. We're supposed to use skill and stealth and speed to overcome raw power. If I start "cheating" and using my size and strength advantage over these two, and it comes naturally, he's the cure for that and I can recognize it and stop it.

  He's no bolt of lightning, he's a long distance runner not a sprinter. So he's great for them to practice screens on. I work on clearing back and forth with him more, after I lose effectiveness trying to keep up with them at what they're good at. Me and him py "fullbacks" guarding an empty tiny practice net, and they can screen and run and gun, coming in on us. It was our longest and hardest self-practice yet. Preseason camp will get here one day eventually. Everyone wonders what Little Miss Moody is into. Its more of a joke to those two, less of a joke to me and him.

  When practice finally broke up, we took another light run. Lightning got to practice "jetting", or jogging tired and putting on her bursts of speed. Right has the same jets built in, but they're not adjusted to the same thrust level. She's not Little Lightning to the team and her little world she stars in for nothing. He can run us all to death, and the longer the distance? The more he can set pace and eat us slowly until we gas out and die. The shorter, the more advantage Lightning has over him. After a long practice, his long distance running is still there. She wants to keep "jetting" him and trying to hold pace.

  I finally gave up, he went for more pace ps. Right stopped with me. Substitute coach said practice was over. Light stopped with us, too. She quit with us, then I saw the look on her face. That fsh of intensity, and she was off like a shot. A streak and a blur that caught up to him, then tried to pass him and hold that pace he had. She went ps with him. Trying to get in front of him. Ruining his pace, by forcing him to sprint with her. She started jostling him, so he started jostling her back.

  I went and got me and Right cold cans. To watch the show. She's up to some of the tricks I taught her. Shouldering the person trying to run with you. Stepping on or near their spikes, so you get to trip them by "accident". Incidental contact, we all know its a sick joke. He started doing it back to her. Which makes her leap and go back into her run to avoid it. I smiled, pointing at the extra ps. Right shook her head, then smiled. We got done mopping our foreheads with the ice cold cans, then opened them and toasted the show.

  When they finally got done, he was sweating as much as we normally do. She's giggling and heaving, sweat pouring off of her like a sprinkler system activated. We handed her a can, and him as well. Her heaving subsided eventually, and she got near him.

  "Come on, you. They're dead."

  She dragged him back onto the big yard, and showed him what to do. She put him in a spot, and gave him the ball. Another ball was her mark. He can't "clear" the ball until she hits that mark. He does? He cheated, and he's in for a lecture. I know this game. Fullbacks are getting practice clearing around the skill and speed pyers charging in. The skill and speed pyers, are trying to stop it. They can get a big steal when they pull it off, and the nets right there behind them. A goalie that might not fully expect such a quick turn of events.

  She sprints in on him, adjusting her approach angle seemingly at random. He can't clear until she hits her mark, and she's trying to block it and get the rebound and pounce. Then, she jogs to get the ball, punts it to him, and you do it again. She knows he has one, big leg. It gives her a slight advantage. She's also gotten fearless at this somewhere along the line. After several clears around her, some quite close? She finally surprised him. The jets came on unexpectedly, she cut a sudden angle at the st second and leaped.

  The ball caught her in the core and her body wrapped around it in mid air a little. She's running in the air as she hits the ground and almost ran him over. One of those dime turns, like my barrel horse can do. Digging in and whirling, then cutting back and over, with a bicycle kick that hit the tiny practice net. She walked back near him and stood over him, arms crossed. Then gave him the ball and jogged back to do it again.

  I finally gave up and went and stood to return his clears, so she didn't have to jog and get the ball as far every time to keep it up. I had my breathing back. The longer this game goes on, the more it favors her. She has access to the grit and determination normally reserved for only the truly twisted and demented. I thought I had run it out of her. I was wrong.

  She got several more. The shoulders caught the clear. One off her knee that damn near went in on a one time pinball. The clearing strength coming off of her well aimed knee made for a hell of a goal shot. The practice net is a tiny bullseye, a real goal is huge. Then, it finally happened. She caught a big clearing shot right in the face. She was close, she had been going for a head shot. You don't get the top of the forehead down though, you eat a big hard leather ball and see stars.

  She came down sliding on her back, weak. Looking around confused. He's all concerned, and she shook her head and got up and ran unsteady after the loose ball. Then? She wants to do it again. She's lost steam, she's running on fumes, and she almost got knocked clean out. I came jogging up and called it quits.

  This is how she practices. You can imagine how she pys. Right had long since begged off. Instead of showering here, she's off to Lida's. She has an extra set of practice clothes in her bag, and there's the hot tub there, as well as a shower identical to ours. Lida and her girls were finishing up a jog when we were getting started. I promised to call her for lunch, she said she'll eat there. I promised to call her for dinner, and she agreed. I think she's giving us time for Lightning and her therapy. Or, she knows Light will be quiet after this. Or both. Or hell, neither, I can't really read minds. It only seems that way when I pick up on something and I'm correct about it.

  Lightning wants my approval, and at soccer she has it implicitly. She has more ability than I could ever dream of. She also has extra reserves of determination and a desire to work herself more than everyone else. So her greater ability gets an added yer of wind and toughness over it. Her adrenaline is gone now, she's tired and sore, and she's walking stiff. She's smiling and won't let anyone give her a shoulder to lean on.

  She spent years alone, and right before that wished she'd been alone. Anyone that should have been in her corner, was there waiting for their chance to use her to their own ends, then kick her for her contribution. Literally. After it was over, anyone she saw was something to be suspicious of. You take the handout offered? There's a price to be paid for accepting it, and you might not want to pay it, or even be able to afford it. Better to kick the offering away and do your own thing. Its safer.

  She headed on slow and unsteady feet for the fridge. Another can of cold stuff. He ran and got it for her, and opened it and put it in her hand. She smiled and nodded. I guided her upstairs. She wanted a nap, and I guided her into our room. She's forgotten about her little perk. Great, it'll be a nice little surprise for her. I sat her down on the foot of the bed, and she id back and closed her eyes. I got undressed normally. Which is to say, he did it for me. I id back next to her while he unced my spikes, and did everything for me. I gave a mock groan when he took my fingers and pulled me up, and onto my feet to handle what he couldn't with me ying down. She's watching and I shrugged back.

  She yanked her spike back on impulse when he took hold of her ankle, then slowly gave it back to him. He told her its all right, that I was there and wouldn't let him hurt her, and its not that he would anyways. She smiled and nodded gently and let him. She watched him with bemused and exhausted interest as he slowly undressed her, and piled her used practice outfit into its own pile just like mine.

  She smiled at me and gave her own fake groan when he helped her up to finish her off, then let her gently back by her fingers to y next to me, smiling. She rolled her eyes and bashfully said she's gd she's not being taken advantage of, because she's too sore and tired to resist.

  "You. Practice clothes. Washer. Her room? You're allowed this one time without me in there. Get her clothes ying on the floor, and run them through the wash with these. Then get the shower ready. Shoo."

  He came back and handed us towels. He took my hand and helped me up off the bed. Then he gave her his hand, and waited for her to take it.

  "What are you doing to me, hmm? You're bad…"

  She wrapped her towel around her waist. Showing her tits is no sin in her little world. Hell, not like I hide from anyone in this house. I just held mine loose in front of me. He had extra towels and washrags piled up, everything. Water was ran, and just temporarily stopped off. He shoved the stop over and we helped each other in. We shower together all year long for practice and games. Hardly a big deal. She's picked up my habit of leaning against the wall, and letting the hot water fall over her. There's a big giant light fixture, that would illuminate a small airport. There's also a small fan light in that fixture, and he had that on for a more subdued night light kind of effect. Its what I like.

  She looked over, and was surprised to see me leaning against the wall, grinning. I was getting soaped up. I stuck my tongue out in glee when I lifted one foot then the other. Like a horse being cared for. She gave a little start when she felt him begin soaping her up, but I patted her hand and she stayed. Nervous horse. Not used to being treated this well. First trained badly, then abused. Then neglected and left to pasture herself with no guidance or help. Left to fend off danger and figure out for herself how to stay alive and kicking. Now, back with proper owners, she's still nervous and tending to herself. She finally lifted one foot, then the other, imitating me. I rubbed her wet blonde mane, and she was fine from then on out.

  Her half closed eyes watched as I got the soap rubbed in. Then it was her turn. She started but calmed herself for it. Then he turned the hot water stop off, and rinsed me. Then her. Then I got the body scrub, the one with the grit, water stopped again. He held it towards her, and she reached for the bottle… and he shook his head. He did it for her. He rubbed the exfoliating grit into me, all over. Then her. She was lifting her feet like I did, it was normal for him.

  Then I got the loofah all over, then it was her turn. Then water stop off, and carefully rubbed and rinsed. She didn't start when her turn came. Then, I got oiled up for moisturizing, water stopped. Then it was her turn. He took turns rubbing the oil into us, back and forth. Then finally, water stop off again and we got the oil rubbed off under hot water. I moved aside a little, and let him get his quick guy bath and rinse. She pointed at the big brush, and I told him to scratch her back. She wiggled under the back brush, like a horse getting the same. Jesus.

  She watched with heightened interest when I got shampooed, and rinsed off with the hand wand. Then moisturizer in my hair, and he brushed it back for me. She was waiting on hers.

  "I normally get just a wee bit more care in here, if you can guess. After your third date? Well. That's your business if you wanna have more fun with the shower worker, you know. Why do you think I like this day spa so much, anyways."

  We leaned into the hot water and got rubbed some more. He went and dried off, and I took her by the hand and had her watch me get toweled off, leaning back on the big sink. She liked the idea when it was her turn. We gabbed a little, giggling and elbowing each other, while he checked the tub temperature. When it was down to temperature? Instead of getting in with me, he helped me into my normal spot then held her hand to help her in. She sat in front of me, and settled down.

  "Hot tub, Light. You're fine. You? Extra towels on the bed, then come back."

  He came back, and she watched as I gave him my hands, then my feet one at a time and got filed. I got another careful brushing my moisturized hair back. She liked that when it was her turn. Then I lifted her ankle with mine, and he started on her. We got filed, heels stoned. Loofah-ed more. Then? The shoulders and neck rub. The leg and foot rub. She cooed and id back on me, finally gassed out and no longer nervous at the pampering. He went back to filing her more and some stoning. Back to neck and shoulder, foot and leg.

  When we were done, I let the jets run more. He tidied up some of the bathroom, and I heard the clothes go from the washer to the dryer.

  "Extra towels on the bed, dear. We're plus one."

  He took his sweet old time, and I got to make a little gab with her. When we were done, we both got another toweling off, and she was smiling and amused for it. I walked her into the bedroom, and I id down on the towels, off to one side. I patted the bed next to me. Like a pet, she crawled up and id face down next to me.

  He took turns with the rubdown and massage. Working in turns. She hid her face and giggled, then squealed with delight. She finally got used to it, and id there for the rougher work. The rabbit punching, the harder kneading. We rolled over to get the rest, back and forth. By the time the hot liniment oil came, she was smiling with half closed eyes.

  "Is this love?"

  I smiled.

  "You getting id?"

  "No."

  "Well then… do the math."

  "You get this…"

  "Every workout? Sure."

  "Oh god…"

  "Imagine this in preseason camp?"

  "Ah…"

  "After big games…"

  "Oh."

  "Yeah."

  "I wondered what you were bragging about, your spa package."

  "Uh huh. And now you know."

  By the time he asked what hurt, I wiggled my legs. I got the hot and cold rub on them. She said the same, but her shoulder she nded on after she stopped the clearing ball with her face. He did her legs carefully, then her shoulder she indicated.

  By the time he id down next to me, to gab some… she was out cold. He went and got the clothes out of the dryer when it buzzed. He brought my clothes back in and put them away, and folded hers in a neat little pile. He looked at me, there really wasn't a lot of room for him to take a nap. I didn't want to disturb her. She had fallen asleep sort of spyed out, which ate up extra room.

  "Okay. Just this once? You can go and take a quick nap in her bed."

  "I'm not trying to be a smart ass. I wanna get that up front, on this one."

  "Go."

  "I'm never going to be in her bed again…"

  "No. You probably will be. Question though."

  "Sure."

  "Its her. How much sleeping do you pn on getting."

  "You make a valid point. Question back."

  "Yeah."

  "Where's the trampoline out front buried at. When she's coming in like that…"

  I smiled.

  "She… runs fast, gets going. She can get some air. Surprised, huh?"

  "Oh yeah. Scared the shit out of me. I didn't expect that."

  "That's why she liked it. We can't help it, we know she can do it. Your reaction? More typical of another team's pyer. The ball, her mark? She knows her distance. Normally on a clear py? Everyone has to get back. That's what the fullback's used to. She makes an instant decision. If she estimates she's inside her mark, and we're down or even…"

  "Oh. Yeah. Uh, why only when you're down or even?"

  "Prima donna wing stars? Py up. Cherry picking. They save their energy, waiting to get feeds clearing up. She doesn't. She has the wind to go back and forth. Up and back. She's fast, and enough of a ball handler and ball steal-er? To raise hell in the midfield. But, it also puts us down by one, down on our end. Maybe I get burned getting back, pying up, she's up there… we're now down by two, we just set up a fast break for the enemy. But if we're down or even, and she has a chance. Its a trick that only works so many times. Save it for when it counts."

  "I get it."

  "You gonna come watch me py?"

  "Yeah."

  "Wait till you see her py."

  I came back and didn't really nap. A series of catnaps, if anything. He already got her some ibuprofen for her headache. She never lost consciousness. I let her sleep. When she started stirring, I went and got him. I thought he was asleep, but he was just listening to her old music pyer in some wireless headphones he found with them. Everyone switched to phones for that years ago. She likes it. Must be some nostalgia I don't get.