Читать книгу Red Earth White Earth - Will Weaver - Страница 17

7

In the spring when they were eleven, in late May when it was finally tennis shoe weather, Guy and Tom were fixing Mary Ann’s bike chain in the farm shop. Suddenly Tom dropped his wrench and stared at Mary Ann.

“Hey, you got tits!” Tom said.

Guy looked at Mary Ann’s T-shirt.

“Jesus,” Guy said. She did have tits. He had not noticed them because they were not the pointy kind. Sometimes in the summer Guy noticed girls in town who were eleven or twelve and had uneven little points under their T-shirts like horns growing on a calf. Sometimes the points were uneven, and once he saw a girl with only one. He began to watch for tits after his grandmother once clucked her tongue at one of the town girls and murmured that the girl was too old to run around dressed like that.

But Mary Ann’s tits did not come out pointy. Rather, they were wide mounds growing like muscles across her chest.

“My daddy says they’re going to be big ones too,” she said. She held up her T-shirt.

Guy knocked over the oil can. He and Tom stared. Her tits were swelled up like two big muffins with a glob of pink frosting in the center of each.

“Jesus,” Tom murmured.

“Amazing,” Guy said. He glanced through the open door of the machine shop into the yard. It was quiet and empty.

“That’s not all I got,” Mary Ann said. Guy and Tom looked at each other.

They went to the hayloft, to their hay house, to see the rest of Mary Ann’s secret. The hay house was a little lean-to building that Guy and Tom and Mary Ann had built in the corner of the loft out of old lumber; they went there, sometimes slept there, whenever their parents were drinking or fighting.

But now Martin and Helmer were dust clouds far out on the fields. Etta worked in the garden with her back to the barn. Madeline was gone to town. Sunlight came through the little windows and made a rectangular spotlight on the board floor.

Mary Ann stepped into the light, then backed out. “This will cost you,” she said.

Guy and Tom stared at each other.

“A quarter apiece.”

Guy and Tom fished into their pockets. Two nickels between them.

Mary Ann took the nickels. “A nickel apiece and do what I do.”

Guy and Tom stared at each other, then nodded.

Mary Ann stepped back into the sunlight. She undid her pants, then pulled them down.

“Jesus,” Guy said.

Mary Ann wore no underwear, and between her legs was a triangle of bright red hair.

“It’s red!” Tom said.

“What the hell you expect, purple?” she said, pulling up her pants.

“Wait,” Guy said, leaning closer for a better look at the hair, the tiny pink tongue at the top of her slit.

“Yeah, give us our nickel’s worth,” Tom said. They dropped to their knees so they could get a straight-on look.

“Time’s up,” she said soon. She pulled up her pants, then stepped away from the sunlight. “Your turn.”

Guy and Tom stared at each other.

“Who goes first?” Tom said.

“Why not do it together?” Mary Ann said.

Guy and Tom looked at each other, then stepped into the spotlight.

They unzipped their zippers.

“Hey, that’s cheating. All the way down,” Mary Ann said.

They stared at each other a moment, then undid their belt buckles. Their penises, one white, the other brown, stood straight up; around them neither Guy nor Tom had any hair.

Mary Ann laughed. Guy and Tom started to pull up their pants. “Hey,” she said, “give me my money’s worth.”

“You never paid anything,” Tom said.

“But you got to see my tits too,” she said.

Guy and Tom stared at each other, then let her look some more.

“Do you guys?” she asked, and made an up-and-down motion with her fist.

Guy looked to Tom. Neither of them said anything because they didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Really?” she said. “My brothers do it all the time. Want me to show you?”

Tom turned to Guy.

She stepped between them, spit in first one palm and then the other, then took their penises into her hands. She began to stroke them. She started out slow, soon spit on them again, then moved her hands faster and faster. Guy began to feel a burning sensation. The burning started low in his crotch and moved higher and higher until he spurted a thin spray of white onto the hay. Tom groaned and did the same thing.

“There,” Mary Ann said.

Guy felt wobbly on his legs. He pulled up his pants, as did Tom. They both got down on their knees to look at the white stuff. It was shiny, with white swirls in it like the glass of pearly marbles. It settled into the hay and drew bits of dust on its surface like lint on Jell-O.

Jism. His first jism. And Tom’s too.

They looked up at Mary Ann.

“Where’d you learn that?” they said at the same time.

“From my brothers,” she said. “They make me do it for them every day. They say it’s part of my chores.”

Guy looked at Tom. “Does your dad know?”

“Sure. Sometimes when my brothers are asleep he gets me up and I have to do him too.”