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Authors: Constance C. Greene

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BOOK: Double-Dare O’Toole
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“How'd you get so tall?” Fex asked him. He was amazed at how much Wesley had grown. Wesley stuck out his foot. Against his will, Fex was impressed. Wesley wore the most terrific-looking pair of cowboy boots Fex had ever seen. They were smooth and glossy, with high slanted heels. The real McCoy. No wonder Wesley looked so tall.

“You fall down much?” Fex asked, jealous of Wesley's heels.

Wesley got red in the face. “You still up to your ass in double-dares?” he said, snuffling juicily at his own wit.

“Wesley, the worm,” Fex said. He stood and watched the dancers, who looked like whirling dervishes, all elbows and arms and legs. He craned his neck, looking for Barney and his partner. No luck. Boy, if Pete ever caught a glimmer of Wesley's boots, Fex thought, he'd flip. Flip right out. Ever since a girl had told Pete he reminded her of Robert Redford, he hadn't stopped talking about buying a pair of cowboy boots. Fex finished his Coke and debated about having another. Dougie and Barney's mom were nowhere in sight. Maybe they'd already gone to the movies.

Then he caught sight of Barney, all by himself.

“Who's she?” Fex asked. “The girl you were dancing with. I never saw her before.”

“Ain't she something?” Barney said. “Her mother and my mother are friends. She's really built, huh?”

“What's her name?”

“Tara.”

“Tara? I never heard of a name like that.”

“Isn't it cool? Her mother named her after Scarlett O'Hara's house. In
Gone With the Wind
. She was watching a rerun of
Gone With the Wind
when she went into labor. That's why she called the kid Tara.”

Barney's mother beckoned to him. Fex saw her whisper something in Barney's ear. He saw Barney nodding. The music went on and on. Fex wanted to dance, but everyone he knew was already dancing. Audrey was nowhere in sight. There was hardly any room to move, the room was so crowded.

“My mom is slipping out with Dougie. They're going to the tavern to see some friends,” Barney said. He smiled. “I guess now's the time for some action, huh?” Fex watched as Barney's mom and Dougie went out the door. He heard Barney's mom tell him to be sure to lock up behind them. It didn't pay to be careless, she said.

The minute they'd gone, Barney sauntered over to where Fex stood. “Whadya say? Think it's time to turn off the lights?”

At that moment the music stopped. Tara and Wesley had been dancing together. They came to a halt directly in front of Fex. He noticed that Wesley was almost as tall as Tara. With his boots on, that is. Tara went to sit down on the couch. She lifted her hair off her neck to cool it. Someone brought her a glass of ginger ale.

“Give her a smooch or two, why don'tcha?” Barney spoke into Fex's ear. “She's been around. She knows the ropes, I bet.”

“Don't be a jerk,” Fex said. A shiver ran down his spine. He remembered what Angie had said. About finding an older girl, someone who knew the ropes, to practice on. There she was.

“I double-dare you, Fexy,” Barney whispered. “Now's your chance. I double-dare you to put the moves on that Tara chick.”

Fex felt his ears getting red. His feet sweated.

“Put another record on!” someone hollered.

“Put the lights out!” another voice cried.

Fex could feel Barney watching him. Why not? He'd probably never have another chance like this. He went over and sat down beside Tara. Barney moved toward the light switch.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Fex. I never heard of
Gone With the Wind
, but I think Tara is a nice name.” It was the most incredibly dumb thing to say. Tara turned her cool blue eyes on him. She looked at him as if he were crazy. Maybe he was. She had on some sort of fuzzy sweater. Up close she seemed to him as beautiful as Jodie Foster. Or Brooke Shields. He smiled at her and the lights went out.

“I want my mother!” a voice across the room cried out, followed by a burst of laughter. Fex lunged, touched something soft. He grabbed whatever it was and held on.

Fex put his mouth where he thought her mouth should be. He felt the smooth skin of her face, her eyelashes batting at his cheeks like a moth held captive in a jar.

The lights went on.

“Hey, hey,” Wesley shouted, standing near the light switch. “Looka that!” All eyes were on Fex.

He was practically sitting in Tara's lap. His head was resting on her sweater. In the middle. In the middle of where her breasts were. The girls he knew didn't have breasts. But she did. His hand was on her jeans.

“What is this?” Tara's voice was strident, reached to the four corners of the room. She stood up and dumped him on the floor. As if he'd been an overfriendly and unwelcome dog. A wave of laughter swelled and broke over Fex's head. From where he lay he could see Wesley and Barney pounding one another on the back, laughing so hard saliva ran down their chins. He saw Audrey, her face pale, her dark eyes huge. She looked as if she were about to cry.

Music began. The group around him broke up. Someone started to dance. Fex got up. Like a sleepwalker, he made his way to the door.

He tried to let himself out of the apartment, but the lock on the door was so complicated he had to go looking for Barney. Luckily, he wasn't far away.

Fex went up to him and said, “Let me out. I'm going home and I can't unlock the door.” Without a word, Barney did as Fex asked. The stairs seemed endless. Fex's feet felt as if they were too big, too heavy for his body. Each step was an effort. He was almost on the ground floor when he heard running steps behind him. If it's one of those guys, Fex thought, Wesley or Barney, I'll kill 'em.

It was Audrey.

“You all right?” she asked.

Her concern infuriated him. “You're always asking me that,” he snapped. “Sure I'm all right.”

“I can't believe you keep this up,” she said. “When are you going to stop being the fall guy?” Her voice had gone from soft to hard. “He double-dared you, right? To kiss her? A girl you never even met before. How dumb can you get?”

He wanted to cry, wanted to hit her. And did neither. “Just let me alone,” he said.

“What are you trying to prove, Fex?” she said.

“Nothing. I'm not trying to prove anything. Just let me alone. It's none of your business anyway.”

“You're right. It isn't any of my business. Except I thought we were friends. I also thought you were smart. But you act like such a jerk I must've been wrong.”

Because she had hurt him, he wanted to hurt her in return. “What makes you think somebody double-dared me?” He looked at her. “That Tara's really something. I wanted to kiss her. That's why I did. I just plain wanted to. So what's wrong with that?”

He left her standing in the lobby and went out into the street. The fresh air felt good against his face. He decided to walk home. It was too early for his father to pick him up. As he went down the hill, the ambulance passed him, siren sounding, lights flashing. And there wasn't even a full moon, Fex thought.

He ran most of the way home. It was farther than he'd thought. When he came in the front door, his father looked at his watch.

“I was just about to go for you,” he said. “You're home early.”

“Yeah,” Fex said. “It wasn't such a hot party. It was sort of a drag, as a matter of fact. So I decided to split early.”

“Oh?” his father said. “Well, that's the luck of the draw. You win some, you lose some.”

“I guess,” Fex said. “Think I'll hit the sack, Dad. Good night.”

“Good night, Fex,” his father said.

Upstairs, Jerry was waiting for him. “Mom told me about a hundred times to turn off the light,” he chortled. “But every time she went back down, I turned it on again. How was it?”

Fex took off his sweater and shirt and put them neatly away in his drawer. Then he sat down on the side of his bunk and removed his shoes and socks. His feet smelled. Good. He was glad his feet smelled.

“It was O.K.,” he said.

“How about the kissing?” Jerry said. “You get to kiss anybody, Fex?”

“Oh, shut up and go to sleep.” Fex felt as if he hadn't slept in days.

“What's eating you?” Jerry gazed down on Fex with a hurt expression. “What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Fex said. He turned out the light and stared into the blackness. Angie, he thought, you gave me a bum steer. You said to find somebody older, somebody who knows the score. That's just what I did. I found her, all right. Tara was perfect. But look what happened. Just look. And although he was exhausted, it seemed hours before he finally fell asleep.

21

Fex woke on Saturday, still weak with shame. He lay flat on his belly, his face smashed into the bedclothes, and wished he could smother himself in them and never get up and face the world.

With horrible clarity he remembered Tara's face when the lights had gone on, how she'd sounded when she spat out, “What is this?”

But then he smelled bacon cooking, and that made things better. Funny how the smell of bacon cooking always did. Bacon was the only thing he could think of that lived up to its promise. Even roast beef didn't, he thought.

From the stillness in the room, he knew that Jerry had left. Left him alone. Why not? He'd been snotty to Jerry last night, acting as if what had happened had been his fault. He'd try to make it up to him. How he didn't know, but he'd try. Jerry was a good kid and didn't deserve the treatment he'd gotten.

When he went downstairs, the rest had gone. Except for his mother. “Mom, I'm sitting for Charlie today,” Fex said. “All day. They're going to a wedding.”

“Dad said you came home early last night. Everything all right? Was it fun?” His mother had been taking a bath when he got in.

“Fine,” Fex said. “It was fine.” Why did everyone ask him if everything was all right, if he was all right? He must look like a first-class wimp. Wimpy O'Toole, they'd call him in later life. Fex would be forgotten.

He stared at his mother. Her face was shiny, her hair untidy. Suddenly he thought of something Mr. Palinkas had said. “Mom,” Fex said, “are you glad to see me?”

She looked surprised. “Now, you mean?” she asked.

“No, I mean are you always glad to see me? When I come home from school, when I come down for breakfast, all the time.” He studied her face. He would know if she lied to him.

“Fex.” She shook her head. “Of course I am. I love you. You're my child and I love you.” She smiled at him across the table but didn't touch him. Which was a good thing. He didn't want her to touch him. He only wanted to know the answer. She was telling him the truth. He could tell.

“I'm off,” he said. “If you want me I'm at Soderstroms'.”

Mr. Soderstrom was standing on the stoop, watch in hand, when Fex arrived. “Good boy!” he shouted. “Right on time! For all her talk about ten-sharp departure, Mrs. S. is still in her boudoir, getting herself doozied up for the event. You know women. I can get myself together in a trice but it takes Mrs. S. a trifle longer. Oh, a trifle longer.”

Mr. Soderstrom was resplendent in a navy blue blazer with brass buttons, gray flannel slacks, and white shoes. One thing about having such a big beard, Fex thought, was that for all anyone knew, he could have on a dirty shirt and no tie underneath that beard. No one would be the wiser.

“You're pretty doozied up yourself,” Fex told him.

Mr. Soderstrom looked pleased. “I dress for the occasion,” he said grandly. “Keep up appearances.”

Fex asked where Charlie was hiding.

“Out in the sandbox, running a small war. Waiting for you. Bought him a fishing rod. Thought you might take him fishing. He'd like that. Watch the river, though, Fex. Keep an eye on him. Oh, there you are, my dear.” Mr. Soderstrom beamed. “You look ravishing, simply ravishing. Put all the other ladies to shame, won't she?” he asked Fex.

Fex smiled, not knowing what to say. He settled on, “Hello, Mrs. Soderstrom.”

She narrowed her eyes and looked at him from across the room. She needed glasses, Fex figured. His grandmother looked like that when she was too vain to wear her glasses.

“Fex?” Mrs. Soderstrom said. She wasn't sure who he was.

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, sounding like some phony hoked-up cowboy.

She didn't answer. She was too busy studying her image in the mirror.

“You don't think the earrings are too much?” she asked.

“The perfect touch!” Mr. Soderstrom exclaimed.

She smoothed her dress across her stomach and looked sideways at herself. “I've gained weight,” she said in a way that indicated that she held Mr. Soderstrom directly responsible for her extra pounds.

He took her arm in a masterful fashion. “You are a vision,” he said firmly. “Now let's be on our way.”

Mrs. Soderstrom moistened her lips and smiled in Fex's direction. “I boiled some eggs,” she said. “For egg salad sandwiches. You know how to make egg salad sandwiches?”

“Sure. Mash 'em with a fork and add mayonnaise,” Fex said.

“Make sure Charlie goes to the bathroom even if he says he doesn't have to,” she told Fex. “You're sure about the earrings?”

Mr. Soderstrom opened the door and gave her a gentle push toward it. “Watch the steps, my dear, with those high heels.” He turned and winked at Fex. “Should be home about four, five at the latest. Take good care of the boy.”

“I will.” Would they never leave? “Have a good time.”

He watched as Mr. Soderstrom helped his wife into the car, tucking up the hem of her dress carefully so it wouldn't get caught in the door. He treated her, Fex thought, as if she were made of something breakable. As the car pulled out, he could hear Mrs. Soderstrom giving her husband directions on where to turn, what route to take. Mrs. S. was a bossy lady, he decided. Thank God she wasn't his mother.

BOOK: Double-Dare O’Toole
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