He sighed and pulled out the gallon of chocolate milk again, this time desperately wishing he could grab a beer instead.
He listened in on "I Love Lucy," trying to distract himself as he downed glass after glass of chocolate milk, wishing he could just collapse on the couch and watch the show with his mom. But he knew he'd get sucked in and miss his chance to make this important phone call. He lost track of how much chocolate milk he downed as he alternated between thinking what he'd tell Marisol and listening to what trouble Lucy had gotten herself into this time, wishing that he could just charm his way out of his mess like Lucy probably would out of hers.
He checked his watch again. 8:29. He picked up the jug of chocolate milk and started swishing it around. There wasn't much left, and he was the only one who drank it anyway, so he chugged the rest down from the jug, starting to feel the effects as he took the last few swallows.
He crushed the jug and crammed it into the garbage. It wasn't quite full, but... it gave him an excuse to get out of the house for a bit, so he pulled the bag out and headed out of the kitchen, slipping his shoes on before he headed out the back door. The cheerful sun was low in the sky. The birds were singing cheerfully. But his heart was heavy as he walked past the lilacs and to the garbage can next to the shed, right in front of his dad's old pickup. The pickup had been parked there for years, waiting for the day that he and his dad would work on it together. Charlie didn't understand mechanics, nor did he have much interest in cars or trucks, and his dad was busy, so the truck stayed there. Charlie figured it would probably stay there until he graduated, then maybe his dad would finally get rid of it.
He walked back inside and checked his watch. 8:36. It was time.
When he was back in the kitchen, he approached the phone cautiously, his stomach churning. He lifted it up, disappointed to hear the dial tone. His fingers trembled again as he dialed the numbers on his palm. His finger hit the wrong number at the end.
"Damn it!" he muttered under his breath as he hung up the phone.
He tried three times and missed, his cussing progressing from another "damn it," to "son of a bitch," then "fuck!"
He slammed the phone on its hook, peering into the front room to see if his mom had heard his outburst. The TV was off, and the front room was empty. Charlie figured she must be lying down for a few moments.
Charlie picked up the phone again, trying to steady his hand. This time, he dialed the numbers right and held the phone up to his ear, his stomach churning even more.
The churning got worse as the phone continued to ring. Finally, the ringing stopped.
"Alo," said a feminine voice on the other end.
Charlie opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"Alo?" Came the voice again.
"Marisol?" Charlie croaked out.
"No, Marisol is not here," the voice responded. Charlie felt a chill run down his spine as he heard the familiar paisa accent.
Charlie licked his lips. "Uh.... Mmmy nnname is Charlie. I... used to go to schooh with Mmarisol. Dddo you know when she wiww be home?"
"Bien, mijo, she doesn't get back until around 11:30."
Charlie stammered, "Can... you ppwease have hew caww me back when she gets in?"
"So tarde?" the woman replied.
Charlie swallowed. "Yyess... It's we.. vewwy impowtant." His face flushed. Damn those letters!
"Ok, I'll ask, but she's very tired when she gets home, jovencito."
"Thank you," Charlie stammered, then hung up the phone.
The rumbling in his stomach became too much. Charlie gagged, then rushed to the bathroom, barely getting the seat up before he lost his Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, yogurt, and way too much chocolate milk.
He heard his mom outside the bathroom as he heaved up the last little bit of his food.
"Charlie! Are you ok?"
"Yeah," he managed to choke out before he flushed and headed over to the sink to rinse his mouth out the best he could.
"Are you... sure?" Laura replied, a worried look on her face.
Charlie washed his hands. "Yeah, just... something I ate."
Laura reached out and touched Charlie's face as he headed out of the bathroom and looked into his eyes. "What's going on?"
Charlie pulled away. "I just need to wes... way..." His face reddened, and he rushed back into the kitchen.
Laura's eyes widened. He hadn't slipped like this since... when was that, three years ago? She stepped forward to follow him, but stopped herself and sighed. She checked her watch and sighed. Time to check on Mrs. Galloway, who wasn't likely to need her near as much as her boy. But... there wasn't much she could do about it.
Charlie peeled his soiled sweatshirt off when he got downstairs, tossed it into his hamper, and finished undressing. He glanced at his watch as he removed it. 8:53. Shit. He'd have to suffer for two hours and 37 minutes at least. He sighed, hoping his dad would still be online... But then he'd have to go through this whole ordeal again tomorrow.
He checked himself for ticks, getting the chills at the thought of getting one. He tried to avoid looking at them as he checked.
Charlie avoided the mirror as he stepped into the shower. He tried to relax as he felt the warm water caress his body, looking ahead, avoiding touching them as much as he could, as he soaped himself up
As he showered, he couldn't help but think of the showers in the locker room and wonder what it would be like to shower with other guys. To be completely exposed with everyone else. He wondered if the guys hid secrets from each other, since they could see everything else that was hidden under each other's clothes. He felt himself stiffen at the thought. He couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to leave those showers still undressed and jump in the pool together. Were the boys who swam like that... closer somehow?
He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to swim undressed with the other guys he knew. But there wasn't anyone he'd trust with being that open.
It wasn't always that way. It didn't use to bother him to change or shower with other boys at the swimming pool in town when he took lessons, or at scout camp. But that all changed one day...
Charlie shuddered as he dried himself off and hung his towel back up. He walked over to his bed and sat down, shivering in the cold. He heard the shower running again, then stop. Phil got out of the shower, but he was 13. Charlie stood up, also naked. They had been sharing his bed as usual, and Phil had woken him up. Charlie had been mortified to find that he and his underwear were drenched. Phil had stood over him, sneering. "You wet the bed, you wussy little mama's boy!"
Charlie had peeled his wet underwear off and was stripping the bed, trembling, trying to hold back the tears. Phil emerged from the shower, drying himself off. He glanced over at Charlie and chuckled. "You've got such a teenie weenie, Chawwie boy. I bet it will always stay that way. Teeny, just like you. It looks like your balls ain't even dropped yet. Probably never will."
Phil opened Charlie's underwear drawer and pulled out a pair of Charlie's briefs. His favorite Marvin the Martian ones, the last ones in a long line of replacements of his favorites. Phil slipped them on and got dressed, then sneered at Charlie. "See you around, you wussy bed wetting mama's boy."
Charlie had just stood there, watching him go. He broke down sobbing on his bed, and could just make out Phil announcing loudly to his parents that he couldn't be at a bed wetter's house anymore.
Charlie felt a tear trickle down his cheek. He looked down at it, sure that Phil had been right. And even though his balls had dropped, Charlie was sure there was something wrong with them. Just like the rest of him.
Charlie curled up on his bed and grabbed Winston, holding him close as he lay there.
He felt a chill, so he sat up, wishing he could just drift away and forget everything. But... he had a phone call coming.
He glanced over at his clock. 10:00. Oh, shit. He had drifted off to sleep. He sat up, groggily, shivering in the cold. He stood up, grabbed his bathrobe, and wrapped himself up in it, trying to get warm. He looked at the pellet stove, seriously considering starting it up, then remembered he still needed to clean it out after the winter.
He yawned. An hour and a half. He just needed to wait an hour and a half.
Charlie walked over to his dresser and picked up the Bible from it. He sat down and started to read, but felt himself drift again, so he set it down. He yawned again and stretched. He had to do something to keep himself awake.
Charlie tightened his bathrobe. He felt the need to pee, so he wandered to his bathroom and opened his robe, studying it, wondering if he'd ever know how he measured up. It wasn't as if he could ask anyone. Except maybe Cade... Charlie shuddered. No, especially not Cade.
Charlie flushed the toilet, then he saw Alex standing there, his head drenched, sobbing and cussing angrily. He heard laughter again. His laughter. And Nate's. His stomach felt sick again.
Trying to shake the image out of his mind, he headed upstairs to the kitchen again. He saw himself sitting there with Phil. He and Phil were 13 again. There was a large pitcher of tropical punch Kool-Aid on the table. He and Phil were arguing. The TV was blaring in the other room, hiding their fighting from Charlie's parents. Charlie was insisting that he was done. He had felt sick after giving Alex the swirlie. He had enjoyed it. He was a monster. He was done. He told Phil as much at the table. Unfortunately, Phil's dad was at a conference, and Phil had insisted on staying the night, even though he had spent plenty of nights home alone by then. Phil kept pouring the Kool-Aid for Charlie as they argued over their mac and cheese. He and Phil made an uneasy truce once Phil promised that "things would be different." Then Phil dared him to chug the rest of the Kool-Aid. Charlie shuddered. His accident in bed had happened the next morning.
He turned from the kitchen and headed out to the porch, then he opened the back door and let the cool night air wash over him.
He slipped outside barefoot and made his way to his treehouse in the pale light of the waxing gibbous moon. He tightened his robe and climbed up the trunk to the platform, wincing as his feet scraped on the rough bark. Once he pulled himself up on the platform, he walked over to the central tree and started climbing the handholds, wincing again as the wood from the handholds dug into his feet. He stood on the top platform for a few moments, staring up at the stars, listening to the symphony of crickets, then loosed his bathrobe, letting it fall to the ground, shivering as the cool night air enveloped his naked body. He closed his eyes, letting the cool air wash around him, wishing that it could cleanse him. While it did help soothe him, it did little to help him feel clean. He breathed in the fresh air for a few moments, then started to shiver in the cold.
An owl asked, "Who, who?" in the distance. "I still don't know," Charlie whispered into the breeze.
He picked his bathrobe up again and wrapped it around himself, then sat down with his back to the railing, wondering what he could possibly say to her when, and if, she called.
Charlie headed into the kitchen to check whether his parents were in the front room. The lights were off, and it was quiet. The piano was still there, but it was just a place to set the mail now. The couches were nice. A large TV sat against the front wall, which matched the rest of the walls now. Laura had tired of waiting and covered it with sheetrock, then taped, textured, and painted it with Charlie and Amy's help.
He walked over to the piano and looked at their family picture. It was just him and his parents now. Butterfield Bear still kept his place, even though junk mail started taking over.
He returned to the kitchen and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. His feet were freezing, but they were helping him stay awake. He checked the clock on the microwave.
11:15. Almost there. He felt numb. And tired. He couldn't help but wonder if that was how some people feel before their execution.
He sat there watching the minutes crawl by.
11:16.
11:17.
Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon....
11:18.
Charlie stood and opened the fridge, wishing he hadn't finished the chocolate milk, thinking this would be a perfect time to try a beer.
He checked the clock again.
11:20.
He thought about watching TV, but he didn't want to wake his parents.
11:25
He started pacing around the kitchen. He was hungry, but had no interest in food.
11:26.
.... Cesium, Barium, Lanthanum, Hafnium....
11:27
....Cerium, Praseodymium, Samarium...
11:28
Charlie sat down again and stared at the phone, glancing at the microwave behind him.
11:29.