James lathered his face and was about to apply the blade to his neck when his little 6-year old daughter Trista came running into the bathroom. "Oh! Oh! Daddy, I have to go!" She was dancing and she came around the other side of James and began to push the man out the door.
"Trista, honey, I'm shaving! Use the other restroom!"
"But Traci's in there and I have to pee real bad! Ooooh!" The door was shut and James heard the lock go into place.
James stood there dripping with his razor in his hand and a face full of drying lather as he stared dumbfounded at the closed door. "I make payments on this house and I can't even use my own restroom in peace," James said to himself.
"What Dad?" Pete said as he came out of his room in a yawn and a T-shirt. The 11-year-old rubbed his mop of a hair and went downstairs before James had a chance to answer.
Pete passed the downstairs bathroom just as his Gothic sister Traci came out of the bathroom. "Get out of my way, Mistake!" Traci shoved her way past Pete. The 16-year old wore a solid black T-shirt, no bra, and a black skirt with black tights. She had a diamond stud in her nose and earrings. Black paint covered her eyes and her face was white as a ghost.
"Mistake? Why do you call me 'Mistake'?" Pete called after his sister.
Traci turned and winced her eyes at Pete in a mean sort of way. Her head rocked back and forth mockingly as she spoke. "Face it, there are two girls and one boy in this family. That makes you the odd one out and... that makes you a mistake!" Pete blew a raspberry. "Oh, be mature!" Traci threw a dismissive hand in the air and disappeared into the kitchen.
Pete had to take his morning piss and disappeared into the bathroom. He closed the door and didn't see his father barreling down the stairway trying to get to the bathroom first before Pete. "Damn!" James cried out.
James heard some hard pounding at the front door like someone was beating out a rock tune. With a scowl he opened the door, then opened his eyes. A boy, if you could call 'it' that, stood there in thick black leather with metal studs and had his jaw pushed forward like a punk or someone who wanted to fight or get-it-on in the worst way. What caught most of James attention was the boy's hair? It was a thick rainbow Mohawk with spikes on the ends. Any other time James would have laughed but it was quickly quelled when he thought of who this 'boy' was probably here to see. "Hey, man, is the Trace here?" the boy kept his head in constant motion. With the hair, James wondered how the kid kept his balance. James felt sick to his stomach.
"TRACI!" James called out. He looked back. "Something's here to see you!"
"Et tu, Brute! How's it hanging?" Traci said from the hallway. She came to the door and James moved out of the way.
As James watched his 'daughter' with this 'thing', he remembered a time when Traci was a good girl and didn't get into any trouble, studied hard and got good marks. At the girl's insistence, he had bought an $11,000 piano and now it just sat there gathering dust. Now her light-brown locks were dyed black and her long hair was cut to about ear-length. She was openly wanton and had been in a fight or two at school. Suspensions from school were treated like 'vacations'. James wondered where along the way he went wrong. He sighed. "Didn't... you need to clean up your room, today?"
"Oh, Dad, you're so lame, I'll get it when I get back!"
"Yeah, chill out, man!" said the young punk.
James felt his anger swell. "Make sure your back for dinner!" he demanded.
"Nah, Daddy! The Brute and I will eat at Kathy's and spin some CD's. I'll be back before dark!"
"Later, Day!" the boy threw a hand over his shoulder. James watched helplessly as the boy put his arm around his daughter's shoulders like he was the 'King'. James hated everything about the boy, but what could he do? He couldn't pick Traci's friends.
A spark of hope entered James when his son came in. Pete, unlike his older daughter and younger daughter too for that matter, kept his room mostly clean and was into sports, he had a promising knack for soccer and looked like he would develop into an exceptional young man. His only drawback -- probably temporary -- was he didn't keep his hair as neatly combed as James wished. "I'm going to Mike's house, Dad! I'll be back around lunchtime, okay?"
James messed up his son's already messed up hair. "Sure, go on!" James felt some pride enter him. Pete smiled. "Oh, don't forget soccer practice tonight!"
"NO WAY!" Pete turned with a big smile. "We're going to wipe up on Crosstown this weekend!" Pete did a pulling motion with his fists in anticipated victory.
"I'll be rooting for you, Son! Go get'em!"
Pete dribbled the ball cut left and then right around Tommy. He did a spin and tossed the ball toward the basket. The ball bounced once off the hoop flatly, circled and then dropped into the basket.
Skip's eyes went wide. "Ooh, nice! That's fifteen to fourteen, suckers! Woo!" He gave Pete a high five and Tommy and his team waved a dismissive hand at them.
"We'll get you next time, Skip, you just wait and see!" Tommy yelled. He looked mad.
"Anytime! Anytime! Right, Pete? Dave?" Skip grinned from ear to ear.
Dave nodded. "Yeah, anytime!"
"Hey, we're bad aren't we, Pete! Pete?"
Pete's eyes watched a girl walking through the park wistfully. It was Marlene (Marla) Westfield, the prettiest, and the most sexy girl in school. She must have been on her way home from the store because she carried a small bag of groceries. Pete felt a hand on his shoulders. "Are you still chasing that skirt?" Skip asked.
Pete changed colors. His head lowered when he couldn't see Marla anymore. "She doesn't even know I exist!" he pouted.
"Have you talked to her?" Dave asked.
"Um... well..." Pete wasn't going to count all the notes he had passed to the girl through a friend. Pete was in sixth grade and Marla was in fifth.
Skip, by far a larger boy, locked Pete into a playful headlock and nuggied his hair. "Pete, old buddy, what you need is an introduction, and Marla and my brother Mike used to know each other... intimately."
Pete pulled upward out of the headlock. "What?"
Skip raised his eyebrows in surprised. "You didn't know?" Skip looked at Dave and then back at Pete. He did a secret motion and whispered, not that anyone was near enough to hear. "My brother Mike tried to feel her up; get to know those tits of hers."
Pete was upset. "You're lying!"
Skip shook his head slowly. "I shit you not, and my brother don't ever lie to me. They were at a party one time and Mike took her to a back room and tried to feel her up. He said he couldn't get into her panties, but he also said that she gave him the most wonderful blowjob you could have imagined."
Pete shook his head weakly. "No!" he said more out of disbelief that he did disagreement. He couldn't imagine his 'angel', he lovely dream girl taking some strange seventeen-year-old boy's cock into her mouth. It spoiled way too many fantasies that he had about the girl who looked too goody-goody despite her well-developed appearance. Now what would he dream about when he used his socks?
Pete got a nudge from Skip. "Hey, maybe she'll give you one!"
"Come on! What you need is an introduction!"
Skip knocked on the door and all three waited. "Hey, uh, m-maybe this isn't such a good idea!" Pete trembled.
"Come on, don't chicken out now!" Dave grinned.
"Yeah!" said Skip. He about knocked on the door again when it opened and Marla answered.
Marla looked at all three of them and Pete noticed that she didn't seem to pay him any attention at all. "What do you want, Skip?" Pete found it funny that she should single him out.
"Um, your Dad home?" Skip asked.
Marla eyes squinted and she looked suspectful. "No, he's still at work! You'll have to come back later." Marla was about to close the door.
"Can I ask you something, Marla?" Skip grinned and Dave gave Pete a nudge. Pete started to change colors, even though Marla still hadn't acknowledged his existence.
Marla widened the door. "What is it?"
"I have... a friend of mine that has been dying to meet you!"
Marla's eyes started to sparkle. "R-really? Who?"
Pete could just barely breathe. Without warning, Dave pushed Pete forward and Skip took the cue. "My friend Pete here!" Skip put his elbow slowly on Pete's trembling shoulder.
"Pete?" Marla's stance began to slump and she crossed her arms. "The kid who keeps following me around school? The kid who keeps leaving corny little notes in my desk?" She finally looked directly at Pete and put her hands on her hips. "I don't know who you have in my class that is slipping notes into my desk, but when I find them I'm going to kill them!"
Pete saw the girl's reaction and he somehow found a voice. "I-I'm sorry!" he said meekly.
Skip came to the rescue. "Ah, don't be too hard on Petey! All he was trying to do was get to know you, Marla! Is that so bad? Come on, give him a break!"
"Che! I'd like to break his neck!" Pete saw Marla's crossed arms tighten and all it did was push up her breasts tight against her sweater. Pete couldn't take his eyes off them.
"Skip?" Pete tried to get the elder boy's attention but Skip waved him off.
"Come on, Marla! I know you're better than this! All we're asking is that you spend some time talking to Pete and get to know him. Come on, do you even know who he is? He's the soccer team captain and a great goalie!"
"Well, I don't care if he's the soccer team mascot, he..." Pete noticed that as much as Marla tried to push malice into her voice it didn't work. Skip interrupted.
"He's not that bad! Come on, what do you say?"
"Well..." For the first time, Marla finally looked at Pete like she was thinking about it. It gave Pete some hope.
"Just talk to the guy and see how friendly he is. That can't hurt! He's had a crush on you for a long time? He doesn't eat, he can't sleep, and when he does all he can do is dream of you. Give him a break!" Pete felt heat come to his face and he could just barely look up at Marla. There was quite a bit of truth to Skip's last statements though he was sure that Skip had made it up. Skip continued, "And you know what, I betcha he even tastes better than Mike!"
All the air in the world got sucked into Marla, and Pete for that matter, all at the same time. The door was slammed, hard, only to come open again. "I never did any such thing to Mike!" SLAM! OPEN! "And don't you go spreading vicious rumors I did!" SLAM! OPEN! "AND I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE PETE, OR YOU, EVER AGAIN!" Marla shrieked in tears. SLAM! LOCK!
Pete stood staring at the closed door in disbelief. Dave turned to Skip. "Smooth move, bowels! When it comes to subtlety, you're a graceful as a bull in a China shop!"
"I was so close! So close!" Pete whispered, all his dreams shattered. He was too far lost and too far gone to have any anger at all toward Skip. He just walked away.
"Leave him alone! You've done enough damage, Skip!" Pete heard Dave say behind him. Pete ran.
Pete was practically kicking himself. It looked so promising there for a moment, Marla looked like she was at least considering him, then Skip said something way out of line to ruin it. Pete stomped twice on the sidewalk. "So close!" he said to himself. "I was so close!"
In the distance Pete saw two men talking to each other by a backyard fence. One of the men wore a suit and he talked to the man in the backyard just on the other side of a hedgerow that separated two properties. The two men shook hands and then the man turned and came down along the hedge. Pete saw the man reach to his back pocket and then pull something off his ear and tuck it into his front suit pocket. The man got into a green car.
Pete walked up the sidewalk and then looked down at where the hedges met the walkway. There in the dirt was a wallet and Pete's eyes increased in size. It looked new and didn't look like it had been there long. Pete reached down and picked the wallet up and found it fat with money and with credit cards. One of the cards on the inside was a driver's license and it looked like the man that got into the green car. The green car took off.
"HEY! HEY, MISTER, WAIT! WAIT!" Pete went running down the sidewalk after the man and the car stopped at a stop sign and looked like it would drive off. Apparently, the driver must have seen Pete running as the car started and stopped. Pete ran up to the car and the man lowered his passenger side power window. Pete was out of breath.
"What can I do for you, Son?" A grey-bearded man looked out. He looked very distinguished and reminded Pete immediately of pictures of Robert E. Lee.
Pete caught his breath. "I think you dropped your wallet, Mister!"
The man immediately popped his seatbelt and reached to his back pocket. "Wow, I guess your right! Why your a regular boy scout!" The man's hand came out to reach for his wallet and Pete gave it to him. The man briefly looked at it to make sure all was in order, then reached inside and pulled out a $10 dollar bill. "Thank you for your honesty, Son, and the retrieval of my property! I don't know what I would have done without it!" The man handed the bill out for Pete.
"Nah, keep it, Mister! It was just an accident!"
The man pulled the bill back in. "What's your name, Son!"
Pete took a deep breath finally. "It's Pete! Pete Tunney!"
"Well, I want to thank you, Pete, for what you done for me! If you ever need anything, here's my card!" The man held out a calling card. "Give it to your father, he'll know what to do with it!"
"Thanks, Mister!" Pete took the card and a car that had pulled up in back of the green car began beeping its horn.
"Thanks again, Pete!" the man waved and made a left turn and was gone. Pete looked at the card briefly and then pocketed it.
James decided to work the garden today and came over to his neighbor Bob Davies' house to borrow a tool. He knocked on the door. A moment later a young girl James didn't recognize came to the door. She wore a white dress trimmed with royal blue that almost made her look like a maid in some ways. James was ready to take the girl for a maid except she was very young. Almost the same age as the girl he knew that lived here. "Hi, uh... Is Bob... Davies here?"
"Daddy! Daddy!" the young girl called out sweetly and James did a double take. The girl turned back. "Daddy will be here in a moment, Mr. Tunney!" The girl was very cordial and James had to look closer to recognize Bob's daughter.
"K-Kate! Y-you're Kate, right?"
"Well, of course, Mr. Tunney!" the girl said shyly. "Who else would I be?"
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade A MrDouble Production:
Changes last made on: Monday, June 7, 2004