PART ONE m – the Party

  "From the moment you start? You begin to grow again. You unfreeze. I would say, be very careful what kind of retionships you engage in, and try to take good advice about how they should be."

  "Pretty sure, I shouldn't listen to mom's advice on retionships. Just a hunch there."

  "I'm with you. I never met her? And I wanna whack her upside the head with a baseball bat."

  "Mom never was nominated for mom of the year or anything…"

  "Yeah. I bet."

  "As a member of the human race, that has a cock, I'm probably supposed to disappear."

  "No. You're fine. If you have anything… constructive to add."

  "I, uh. I used to volunteer and teach one of the, you know, rape prevention csses. Self defense thing. For women in uniform. The wives and daughters. Civilian base employees, and their retions."

  "Oh. Well, that was nice of you. Right, honey?"

  Lightning stared around.

  "Little te for that…"

  We just looked at her.

  "I can't ugh. Told you that. But, I thought that was a little bit funny. I wanna ugh. Just can't."

  "Teaching rape prevention css? Kinda fun."

  "How?"

  "Heck. I was a young guy. Met a lot of girls that put out that way."

  "Honey!"

  "No. If I could ugh? I would. That was funny."

  "It wasn't that funny…"

  "Hey. I'm the one it happened to. And that was a little bit funny."

  "I had to read, like, medical pamphlets and stuff. I know about some of the recovery methods."

  "There, honey. Now that? Might be more constructive. Go on."

  "Different approaches exist. One way, which the more attractive victims report works particurly well? I mean, if you're curious and all."

  "What? I'll try anything."

  "Every night? You dress up in a different costume, and then…"

  "Honey! Stop it!"

  "No Hurry. It is funny, a little. I wish I could ugh. I… when I can ugh again? I'll be back to normal. Well, back to a fucked up 14 year old anyways. That's normal to me, right?"

  "Both of you! Stop it!"

  "You're just mad my treatment is working better than yours. I should run a clinic. Have a big row of costumes for the girls to wear… bunch of male volunteers. All guys that lift weights, naturally. Costumes for them…"

  I palmed my face. This is ridiculous. And she? Is encouraging him. Christ almighty.

  "I got one…"

  "Light? You don't have to…"

  "Wizzy."

  "Yeah, Light."

  "Remember, we were going to have sex soon?"

  "That's… not important right now, honey."

  "Right now, I'm numb. I'd just y there. You wouldn't enjoy it. We should wait."

  "Laughter. They say its the best medicine."

  I was getting exasperated. Not so much at him. At both of them. This is supposed to be serious. Then? He winked at me. I was either about to be impressed, or strangle him.

  "Little Lightning? You made a wisecrack, when me and Hurry were in the tub. You showered, we were talking. Before we went out."

  "Yeah. We were."

  "You made one comment. You run a rape clinic down in your room. Send me down there, if she wanted to. Something like that. What would happen to a guy that got sent to your rape clinic. You know mine. Costumes. What would yours be like."

  "Oh. I remember that. That was a champagne joke. That's, an inside joke between Hurry and me. But, your costume idea was original. I have a new clinic in mind."

  Fucker winked again. Goddamn it, flip a coin. I better get impressed real quick, or I'm going to choke the ever loving shit out of him with my bare hands. Lightning is in no condition to pry my hands off of his throat.

  "Describe it. I love naughty stories. Ask Hurry."

  "The girl. The victim. Needs to act it out. Helps her feel better. Help her process the… bad thing. I take you out. Car date. Nice day at the park. Cool. Bnket. Beer. Bottle. You know. Like that."

  "Sounds therapeutic."

  "Oh, yeah. Couple of my friends show up. After I got you pretty drunk. You don't drink much, do you."

  "No. I'm a lightweight, honey."

  "Get you nice and wasted. A couple of my friends could show up. A few more drinks. Then, we start the therapy."

  "You're a cute girl. Are your friends cute too?"

  "Some look all right, yeah. You're wasted. We can hold our liquor. Me and my girlfriends? We'd toss you in the middle of the bnket. Surround you. Every girl? Grabs an arm or a leg. Helps. Its a hot day out, little boy. You're sweating. We should get some of those clothes off of you. Just trying to help you out. Do the right thing."

  "Very noble of you."

  "Oh. We're wonderful. Once we have you naked. We each have an arm or a leg. Me and my girlfriends? We all start taking turns with you. You know, for this kind of therapy to work right? Guess me and my girlfriends would need those… pstic dicks, the bull dykes wear. We'd all go around the world on you. If you scream? We take turns being the one shoving a pstic dick in your mouth. Did you know that you can pour liquor into someone's mouth? And just hold your hand over it. Then if you hold their nose, they have to swallow it to breathe again? It works better than you think. Therapy sts a while, Wiz. You start when its still sunny out. Say 4 o'clock or so? Best time. It doesn't end, until real te at night. Maybe… 4:00 am. Of course, I got other friends, and they have friends. Regur party we're having. Party ends te at night. You're so wasted, you don't realize time. You? Just wake up on Hurry's porch."

  "What would Hurry do. I wonder."

  "Kick the shit out of you. For drinking."

  "I'd tell her what happened."

  "She'd kick the fuck out of you more, right on the porch. For making a bullshit story like that up. To cover up for being drunk."

  "Eventually, Hurry would figure out, something bad happened."

  "That would take a long time. Every time you told her the story, you get the shit kicked out of you. For lying, yet again. You don't know shit about raising kids, Wizzy."

  "I guess I don't. Eventually though, I'd end up telling someone."

  "Anyone you tell? Pretty much would come tell Hurry. Who would kick the ever loving shit out of you. For embarrassing her, with that bullshit story you won't let go of."

  "Would Hurry ever believe me?"

  "Not if the person you went to the park with? Was the daughter of the guy Hurry was fucking. She doesn't believe you. Well, she probably would. But then? You'd be fucking her shit up, dating a guy that makes good money."

  "Eventually…"

  "Oh, yeah. After getting the shit kicked out of you, for so long, so many times? After the rich guy dumps her, she might believe your story then. Well, just enough to get him scared enough to cough up cash. She doesn't really believe you, Wizzy. Its just a way to score cash. You don't get any. You're under 18. Hurry signs papers, that signs away any right you have, to prosecute. For cash. You? Get nothing. Hurry? Gets paid for what you had to do. Hurry gets paid, for kicking the shit out of you. For training you what happens, when you open your mouth. To anyone."

  "Fun times."

  "The best. Don't forget your aftercare, Wizzy."

  "Sure, sure. What would you recommend."

  "You have to have dinner with me. Every time you say anything, or act up? You get dragged away, and you get the shit kicked out of you. For trying to ruin her rich guy dinner date. Then? You go back to the dinner. And for years? Anywhere you go, Wiz. You meet them. All my girlfriends. You can't go anywhere, without running into one of them. It never ends. Hell, you can't do anything to them. They have nothing to fear. Your mom sold you out. Me, my girlfriends? We get to ugh at you, point at you, for the rest of time. You're a slut, Wiz. Taking that many girls on. For 12 hours. What a fucking whore you are. Everyone knows. Everyone points and ughs. And if it really was rape, cops. But Hurry signed a gag order. Signed a statement for cops. Illegal to go do anything legal. Ever. Proof you liked it. And other girls? Yeah, they treat you real well when they see you out. Trust me. What would you do after therapy, Wizzy. Aftercare."

  "I guess I'd py soccer."

  "You'd quit dancing. You really wouldn't enjoy it anymore. All those older girls, ogling you, moving around sexy. Dancing? Its so you can attract a wife with money, like a good boy should. Pying soccer? Doesn't attract rich girls, that's retarded. The more it pissed Hurry off? The harder you'd py, Wiz. When you got a schorship? You'd leave. You'd never come back. You might, just might? Put Hurry in the emergency room, the day you left though. Why not. When the cops never show up at school? You'd just… move on."

  "Would I ever date again?"

  "You'd want to fuck girls, Wiz. But, no dating. You go on a date? Something could happen. Nah… just meet the girls, have fun. Leave. You'd never let any girl, ever. Buy you a thing. Take you out to dinner. Nothing."

  "I wonder what Hurry would do for me. After I left."

  "I'm sure she'd buy you clothes, all the time. Nice expensive ones. Makes it all better. Everyone knows that. She'd know better though, after waking up in the emergency room? She'd never show her face again. Small mercy there."

  "What would I know about… love and sex. After therapy like that."

  "You're what, about 14, right Wizzy?"

  "Something like that. Yeah."

  "You'd get on the internet. How people have sex? Videos. Hell, there's videos of boys, on bnkets. Surrounded by girls. Taking turns. Its normal. Lots and lots of videos just like that. I mean, there's a little movie. Exactly what happened to you. There's the bnket. Sunny day in some park or field. There's the girls, grabbing you. Taking turns. Sure, the little boy is kicking and screaming. But, its fun. When the movie is over? There's the boy, ughing and joking with all those girls. They're all joking, talking about how much fun they had making the little movie. Sharing drinks. You just know? All the girls like that movie. You know they touch themselves, watching it. You can look and see, that big number in the corner. How many times some girl watched it, touching herself. Girls? They all like this. The ones that don't do it? Wish they could."

  "Would I enjoy sex?"

  "Sure. The act, is fun. Dating? You probably wouldn't like that idea. And… the way people are, about money and retionships. All the financial advice, on TV? Marriage, all about money. Fuck that. Sucking cock for a phone? Get real. That's a smart girl. But me? I'm a slut. I guess, because I don't want paid for fucking, like all the other girls do. Like mom tried to teach my stupid ass. Dinners, dates, presents. They fuck, they get paid for it. They're smart girls. Me? I just do it because I like some guy. I'm a slut because I don't want paid. Because being a whore? Is so much better, than being a slut."

  "I'd never go back."

  "No. You wouldn't. But… when you danced? It would feel like… before me and my girlfriends ruined you. If you ever went back? You'd want to kill people. You'd either wind up in jail for life, or just kill yourself, and get it the fuck over with quick."

  "I'd want to talk to someone though, to try to help me. Between 14 and 18."

  "Like Hurry would let you. They need her permission. Hurry signed papers, and got paid for it. Hurry sold you? For money. After she was dumped. Had to milk it, and kick the shit out of you, to shut you up, until she was dumped. After getting dumped though, smart money move."

  "Hurry? Roll up a fatty…"

  "I'm way ahead of you."

  "Light? I like you. I really do. You're… my real life calendar girl. Just like Hurry is. I wouldn't have met her, if it wasn't for you. I think you're amazing."

  "You like 14 year old fucked up chicks, huh."

  "They're the most fun. I heard. I wouldn't know, myself."

  I looked at him. He looked at me. I was impressed. Real impressed. He wasn't going to get strangled now. We sat and smoked the joint, down to the nubbins. He went and brought back a whole unopened two liter of mixer soda. Within an hour, the life if you wanna call it that? Started to come back into her voice, into her eyes. She slowly regained normal posture and body movements I would recognize as Lightning again. She came back and re-materialized in her body.

  We asked her if she wouldn't rather go home, but she wanted to stay.

  "I spent four years alone. I wanna live. I don't want my mom to win."

  I gave her a little smile.

  "She won't. The bigger star you became at soccer, the more pissed she got, huh?"

  "Oh yeah. Got to the point, I pretty much got the shit kicked out of me, for winning. The bigger win I got, the worse it got. I eventually escaped. I'll never go back."

  "Pisses her off, the more you win…"

  "Yeah."

  I smiled.

  "Conference championship. Big ring. I want the ring."

  "You think so small, Hurry. I wanna start a fucking dynasty. I wish I could make it to the Olympics. Be on his… calendar. Oh, I'd mail a giant box of those calendars to her."

  We went back to the party. She was… normal. But more like normal around the house. She definitely wasn't the normal Lightning at the party anymore. It was weird. She smiled a lot. Not a big smile, but a smile. She was happier again, but not that highly eted, look mom I'm at the prom look.

  She asked for permission from me, to do everything. Can I sit on his p. Can we py ping pong again. Am I allowed to dance with him. Am I still allowed to kiss him like before. When everyone got drunk, she was able to put "their song" on repeat, and get several "dance lessons" in a row. They looked for all the world, like the happiest couple at the party. Which personally I found hysterically ironic.

  She asked me, sitting with him, how long good girls waited on dates before putting out. How long was appropriate. I said we did three dates. The third time was the charm. She asked what our first date was, I said we met at a party. Simir to this one, just somewhere else. A bigger party but a party is more or less a party. She asked if we kissed. I told her we made out in a dark corner, sure. I assured her good girls make out, they just don't put out right away. She asked if good girls used tongue on that first make out. I said I did. I pointed out that we did roaming hands, with our clothes on. She had kept her clothes all on, after we came back from her… well? Her first therapy visit.

  I sent them out for a make out session. I told him I expected him to put some time in, and roaming hands were required. They were out there for nearly an hour. I took videos, using the zoom function on my phone. I went and got some closeup videos a couple times, and they never stopped. They ignored me. I felt creepy and dirty. The person at the party, getting videos of people making out. It looked so sweet and innocent. She wears clothes a younger girl would wear, if mom would buy her anything with no restrictions. She looked for all the world, like some 14 year old girl. Making out with some boy that finally noticed her. I finally backed off, and let them go. She might have never had this perfect, appropriate, 14 year old girl moment before.

  She sat next to him. Nice posture. Knees together, palms on her knees. Just her head was moving, turned to her left. If I didn't see his head angling on the other side of her correctly, if I didn't see the way her hair was slowly moving? I might not even know they were kissing, and they could just be talking. Eventually, her hand went up. Just one at first. Touched his face, then the back of his head. Eventually her other hand went up. It took a while before she experimented with where she let her hands rest. Before finally roaming and exploring.

  I noticed him, too. She took him by the hand, and they walked out. She pointed, where they would sit. She sat, then he sat as she did. She leaned into him, first. When her hand hit his head, his followed soon after. When she held his head with both hands, and her hair moved faster? His hands imitated. When she switched how they leaned their heads? It was nearly simultaneous. They were in sync, he was only slightly behind her.

  I can only guess what this game was for him. His calendar girl, that didn't want coffee in real life? Suddenly wanted coffee. Extra sugar. Creamer, too. She wasn't the confident star he had imagined all those years up on his wall. She was some weird mix. A part of her, was a surprisingly intelligent and very insightful adult. Another part? Was weirdly immature, like a little girl. With an amazing streak of loyalty and morality, that only a sigma male could truly appreciate. His perfect calendar girl? Was broken. Just as surely as someone had ripped that month in half, and it had been taped back together. It looked fine, barely a seam from the tape job, and even then you had to know where to look. But, she wasn't perfect like she looked on that calendar. Someone had ripped her in two before.

  Maybe he got something small out of it. He was once 14, and while he hadn't been hurt and betrayed just like her? He had been betrayed, and he had been hurt. Maybe he had gotten to see what it was like, to have the girl he thought was pretty, be excited to sit with him. Wanted to kiss him and get kissed back. Knowing she wasn't using him as an actor in a game she pyed. Some man had taped him back together too. He came from two different calendars. His page was torn in half on both of them. That man had decided which half of which calendar, should go into the one, final calendar that would be all that was left when he was done. He had done a spectacur job. The final calendar picture? Was better than either one had been intact.

  What were my calendars? Nicest guys of the big 10. Best geeks of the Math and Computer department. The hunks of the Texas Military Police. I couldn't decide which calendar was more important than the others. My friend took one gnce at all three. Asked me if I hadn't ever noticed, but the July guy? Look at the eyes. Looks like the same guy, on all of them. Weird, huh? I decided she was right, too.

  When they came back to the party, it was odd. He was sheepish and smiling, which would be normal given the situation, but it was her. She was… shy, smiling. Almost, what's the word I'm looking for here. Demure, I guess. She was like this for some time, then asked what our second date had been. I told her, we met for a quick bite to eat, and where in town. Her face went, well, not quite white… but close. She closed her eyes. A date was scary. I told her I could chaperon her date. She asked if, you guessed it, good girls got chaperoned.

  "Only the very best of them. Hell, even I didn't have a chaperon on our second date. You trying to out do me or something, sis?"

  We all went briefly silent, and then had a good ugh. Bless him for what he did. Sometimes, ughter might be the best medicine. She asked if it was okay to sit in the hot tub some more. No one else was in it now, this te. Fun rowdiness overtook most, quietude others. I smiled and nodded. He got to his boxers easily and stepped in. She did it like everything else since that magic tipping point came and went, and she had slowly re-materialized. She looked around. She normally made sure boys were noticing her doing anything like this. She got down to her panties quickly. No fanfare, no gestures. Another quick gnce to reassure herself no one was surreptitiously ogling her, before she quickly stepped in and sat down next to him, and sort of nestled in.

  There was no magic wand that had been waved. She was by no means "fixed". This was real life. This wasn't some romantic comedy drama. All ugh track and dramatic music, as you watched all the inappropriate situations and odd characters. Then magically wrapped itself up, as some character voiced wooden lines expining the morality lesson so even the densest audience member got the fairy tale.

  No, in the movie version of this? The credits were about to roll, and no further situations would come about. The music was about to py. Things were far from perfect, but… they were about as ideal as you could hope for, given everything that had come before. But this is no movie. Here comes another situation when the music and credits should be arriving instead. Army boy, a couple of his buddies in tow. Looking around. People that are gncing around, hey, where's the people we know? Here somewhere.

  If I'm pying dollhouse, with humans for dolls? My dollhouse and dolls are about to get scattered. I don't know exactly what's about to happen, but, it can't be good. The scary music is pying, so I know something's coming. Flying monkeys are about to show up.