A Piece Of My Mind

Andy was having a shitty night.  The docs blamed his insomnia on the meds, but that was only because they didn’t know he had quit taking them.  Somewhere around  3 AM, just when he had finally almost managed to coax himself to sleep, he awoke to a rhythmic slap slap slapping noise coming from the other side of the room.  He knew instantly what that sound was.  THAT LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER   He sat up in bed, his face twisted in outrage.

“GODDAM, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE BEATING YOUR MEAT WITH ME IN THE ROOM YOU CREEPY LITTLE FAGGOT!”

“Hunh, what? AM NOT!  Was scratching my leg.”

“You DO NOT jack off when I am anywhere around. I swear to God, Eddie, what the fuck?  Are you a queer?”

“FUCK YOU I WASN’T JACKING OFF!”  Eddie lay in his bed fuming, his dick wilting in his hand.  He’d thought his older brother was asleep.

Both boys heard the old man come stomping down the hall in plenty of time to assume sleeping postures. Their bedroom door swung open.

“What the fuck, boys?”  Dad always spoke in a whisper for the first few minutes after you woke him up.

Both boys continued to feign sleep.  Andy was fairly realistic and might have pulled it off, but Ed’s  fake snores were ridiculous.  Mike Boren stood there for a few minutes teetering in his half awake state.   Fuck it.  He shut the door and went back to bed.  He heard them whispering before he could get his covers back arranged.   Goddamn it.  He lay back and prayed they wouldn’t make him get up again.

“I was NOT beating my meat, asshole!”   Eddie was at that silly age where you masturbate at least 5 times a day, yet would rather walk hot coals than be suspected of it.

Andy just laughed.   After a minute, he grabbed his cheek with his thumb and forefinger, and started slapping it in and out, making a loud, wet, repetitive squelching sound.

“I was NOT!”

Andy rolled over and tried to go to sleep.  His mind begin playing out scenarios for fucking with Eddie over this jacking off thing. Maybe he’d just call him ‘Jacks” for the next few days.  It would freak him out especially to be called Jacks in front of Mom.  Maybe he would continue with the indian theme he started with Dicks.   He rolled over, giggling loud enough to elicit another protest from across the room.

“STOP, ANDY, YOU FUCKER!”

Andy was tempted to give the boy his new name on the spot, but then he thought better of it and closed his eyes.  Today had been shitty, but tomorrow was shaping up to be a better day.

* * *

Eddie woke the next morning to the shrieking alarm clock and the sight of his brother, dressed to go downstairs, sitting on his bed smiling at him.  When Andy saw he was awake, he stood up, snapped off the alarm, and  stuck his finger in his face.

“YOU. Your Indian name is Jacks-Loudly!”  He laughed maniacally, spun on his heels, and ran out the door.

Eddie lay back on the bed and groaned.  He knew his brother — he would drive this shit into the ground. He’d have Billy and everyone else saying it. FUCK.  He forced himself back up and moving toward the bathroom.

He was putting on his shoes when he heard the jackass holler up the stairs.

“Hey JACKS.  FOOD!”

Ed scowled.  That motherfucker. He grabbed his knapsack and ran down the stairs.

* * *

Ed was a sensitive soul. By the end of third period, it was clear that everyone  knew his new name, the full Indian version.  Reeling in an absolute agony of embarassment, he stumbled through his classes.  Lunch was shit, of course, and he ate it with his usual group of loser friends.    

“Jack be nimble?”

“Fuck you, Arthur.”  He sat down and began to eat his cornbread.

Arthur grinned his blazing white smile and shook his head. “What is this Jacks Loudly shit, man? You white folks is so crazy.”   

“It’s shit my ass-licking cocksucker of a brother dreamed up.”  Ed looked like could cry.

“Everybody beats they meat, man, even the president!” Arthur chuckled through a spoon of peas.  “White folks.”   The other losers at the table were all laughing now.

“I WAS NOT BEATING MY MEAT, GODDAMMIT!”   He knew it was a mistake before the words were out of his mouth.

The whole cafeteria was staring now.   Ed made himself as small as possible, focused on his peas, and waited for the silence to end.

***

By 3:30 he was seething as he slid down the trail under the bridge.   Andy had beat him there, he could smell the weed burning and hear the Billgoat’s goofy laugh before he could see them.