Dancing On Daddy's Shoes
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Dancing On Daddy's Shoes - Chapter #1
Runs The Deep River
Timothy Glass and Benjamin Ackerman sat on the banks of the
Tennessee River tossing flat stones into the calmly flowing waters.
Over head the sun had well begun its westward journey to the
Pacific and the Tennessee afternoon was beginning to cool. The air
was thick with Mayflies and every so often one would dance
dangerously close to the surface of the river's smooth current only
to be snapped up by a lurking trout.
Spring was slowly yielding to the heat and humidity of summer as
the seasons marched endlessly on, so too was Tim and Ben's first
year of high school coming to a conclusion. As with many students,
the transition had not been an easy one. Going from being at the
top of the food chain to a pair of bottom feeders had been a great
shock. It didn't help that both of them were hopeless geeks, hard
studiers with great academic skills but lacking in the art of
social communication, especially in the company of the fairer sex.
"Ask Amy to the prom?" Tim asked Ben. Ben had boasted how he had
planned to do just that two weeks ago. Amy Silverman was a sweet
friendly girl of the same grade and age as Ben. She often stopped
to chat with Ben between classes but Tim suspected there was more
to it than just friendly fraternity. At least for Ben's part
anyway.
"Naw-- I ain't goin..," Ben said glumly. Tim could tell that in
the end, Ben had been to frightened to ask. "What about you, you
ask anyone?" Ben asked.
"You know I didn't," Tim answered sarcastically. He could be honest
with Ben. "It's not like this is even our prom. We have two more
years of proms after this one. I'm not in any hurry." Tim bluff
his way though his discomfort and embarrassment about the issue.
Ben depended on Tim to take the lead in most matters of social
interaction. Ben could not interoperate or anticipate social
queues and innuendo. For Ben, the unspoken language of suggestion
and body language didn't exist. Without Tim's help to set the
example, Ben found he could not communicate on a social level.
Now, as Tim grew apart from his own youth, Ben found himself
increasingly frustrated with Tim's seemingly unwillingness to set
the example that Ben could follow.
Now Tim was allowing his own fear begin to impede on Ben's ability
to satisfy something Ben saw as a true need, the need to experience
a girl. Ben held his tongue for the time being. Instead, he drew
in a deep breath, exhaled long and slow and tossed another small
stone into the river.
* KER PLUNK *
Tim swatted at a few mosquitoes that were snacking on his arms and
finally hopped up and declared. "I hate this fucking river... Why
do we always come down here? The fucking bugs are like something
from 'The Land That Time Forgot'; it's muddy all the time... It
stinks like shit down here..." Tim fumed as he stomped about
bitching about his environment.
"Hey Tim-- when you're the one with the car, then you can bitch
about where we go," Ben said, his frustration with Tim beginning to
show.
There he goes again, Tim thought, striking out at everyone else
because HE's a geek! Tim fired back, "Fuck you!" "Screw you Ben.
Why can't we go to the mall or something? Why do we always come
down here?"
"Stop whining... you sound like a girl. Do I look like your fucking
boyfriend?" Ben asked sarcastically. "The mall sucks anyway. It's
filled with girls that don't want anything to do with you or me. I
feel like a kid with no hands in a candy store. Even if I could
pick up the candy, I couldn't get my money out of my pocket to pay
for it!"
"What do you want Ben, a girl to simply walk up to you and ask you
to let her sit on your face?"
"That would be nice for starters," Ben admitted with a large grin.
"Jesus," Tim sighed in frustration. "Who do you think you're
fooling Ben?" Tim asked. "If you think it's me then you're nuts.
I've known you too long Ben. So don't sit there and think that if
I manage to get a date, then you're in too. I can't make a girl
like you Ben. Fuck, I can't even make girls like me!"
Ben didn't answer. Instead he brooded, choosing to turn back to
the river and stare out over the muddy green water of the
Tennessee. Ben didn't want to believe that Tim, his best friend
couldn't help him. He chose instead to believe that Tim wouldn't
help. He believed that if Tim got a date, that Ben would
jeopardize his own chances at getting laid by making Ben part of
the 'Package Deal'. So what was the best answer for Tim? No
deals, Ben would be on his own if Tim got a date.
Every time we get together, Ben seems to have drifted further away
than before. What's going on with him? Tim thought.
As Ben got older it seemed he was withdrawing some place deep
within himself. He needed more and more help bridging the distance
between his place in the world and the rest of humanity.
Tim stood there looking at Ben stare out at the river. He simply
sat there tossing pebbles out into the stream. Tim had a good idea
of what Ben was waiting to hear. Okay Ben-- Tim rehearsed in his
head, --I'm sorry. We're a team. Where I go you go. All for one
and alone together until we die! Right buddy ole pal o' mine?
BULLSHIT! Tim's mind screamed. You can't carry him for the rest of
his life. What in the fuck are you thinking? Tim felt trapped.
If Tim didn't stick with Ben, no one else certainly would. But
that was a death sentence for Tim. It felt like one anyway. A
life time of sacrifice for someone that would forever become
needier and needier seemed like and insurmountable task for someone
with so much life yet to live.
After a brief measure of time, Tim kicked the large mound of dirt
he had been piling up with his feet, spilling it out in a mess on
the boat ramp where Ben had parked his car. Ben turned angrily to
where Tim had been standing; but Tim had turned away and had begun
walking in the direction of the road. Ben didn't pursue him, truth
be known, Ben's bravado was an act, a bluff. Be was grateful that
Tim wasn't charging him. Tim was a big boy and could have hurt Ben
easily.
Not that Tim would have ever even considered such a thing, but
Ben's angry nature had gotten the best of him many times in the
past. It wouldn't have been much of a surprise to Ben if Tim had
attacked. It was just another symptom of Ben's inability to make
sense of the world around him.
The fact was that all the boys and the girls their age were dealing
with sexual awareness to varying degrees. That story has been told
a million times throughout history. It's a tale without end.
Still, even knowing this wouldn't have made that internal struggle
any better for either boy. It didn't quell need brought on by
desire. Knowledge didn't help put out the flames of their personal
sex drives.
Ben grappled to push the anger he felt for his friend's perceived
betrayal deep down inside. Without Tim's help, Ben felt his
chances at a date this year had faded to something less than
transparent. Ben turned again and watched as Tim carried his bulk
up the boat ramp and down the long dirt road toward the paved
highway.
He could sit there and let Tim walk away, but Ben feared that if he
did that, the only dependable companion he had in the world would
have nothing more to do with him. In the end, the risk had been
weighed in the balance and found to be too costly for Ben.
Loneliness was absolute when there was no one there to talk to
except yourself. "Tim!" Ben scrambled to get to his feet as his
buddy stalked off in a huff. "Wait up!" Ben ran for his car, a gift
from his mother, paid for out of great sacrifice from their meager
fixed income.
The car however, an old beat up 76 Mustang, was nothing more than a
symbol of his mother's denial of Ben's progressing condition.
There was something wrong with her son. Her only solution had been
to try to jumpstart her son's desirable traits by giving him
something that all kids his age wanted. There was no possession
that would make Ben Ackerman attractive to his peers, however.
Still greater problems existed in the fact that Ben was not mature
enough to handle the responsibility of such a thing. Susan, Ben's
mother refused to acknowledge any of this. She saw Ben as nothing
more than a late bloomer waiting on just the right set of
circumstances to pull him out of his shell. To admit anything else
would have been the same as giving up on her only child. Susan
Ackerman would not do that.
"Tim!" Ben shouted again as he fired up the Mustang convertible.
It was Ben's first year driving and in spite of what he had learned
about handling a car, there would be no denying that his youthful
approach to motor vehicles was at best, reckless.
Ben floored the accelerator throwing dust and rocks out behind the
car, peppering the surface of the river with the debris. The loose
dirt of the dusty road that led to the highway made control of the
vehicle difficult. Ben over compensated speed and steering and
nearly pinned Tim to a tree that was only feet away before managing
to stop the car.
"God damn it Ben!" Tim said as he fought back the almost
uncontrollable urge to urinate on himself. Tim could see Ben
laughing inside the cab of the car but understood that this was
nervous laughter, meant to save face. No one knew Ben better that
Tim. It was a dubious distinction Tim was not so sure he wanted
much longer. Something had to break for both their sakes.
"Pussy!" Ben cried, but to Tim it looked as if Ben might really
start crying. This machine was too powerful for Ben. It was at
times like this that Tim felt Ben might actually drive it into the
river and walk away from the machine, if it weren't for Ben's
massive sense of pride. Ben's own fear and lack of understanding
for control over that mechanical power was very clear at times
after he fucked up, as it was now. Oh well, Tim thought, he'd be
safe for a few days now. It always happened that way. One near miss
and Ben was the safest driver on the road. The problem was that Ben
easily forgot the lessons of his near misses. All it would take was
one of those lax moments at the wrong time and Ben would wind up
dead from complacency. All Tim could hope for was that he wasn't
with Ben when that complacency turned fatal.
"Get in the car butt-munch," Ben called out.
Tim, with no way to get home, short of walking, but still angry
with Ben at being the victim of his ugly display and nearly being
run over as a reward, shoved his anger aside and got in. "You
almost killed me," Tim snapped.
"I did not! This ol bucket of bolts loves me," Ben said patting the
dash. "I know her every move."
"Bullshit Ben," Tim said, buckling his seat belt for good measure,
"One day you're going to kill someone because you can't keep it in
your head that you haven't been driving for ten years."
"Don't need to have. It's easy, you steer the wheel and the car
goes where you want it to." Ben turned to Tim passing his index
finger from his forehead to the dashboard, "We have a psychic link
this car and me. We're on the same frequency."
"Bullshit," Tim said and turned around, arms folded over his chest.
"Truly," Ben said, "Watch this." But Ben couldn't seem to muster
the bravery it was going to take to race out of the wooded area.
Instead he paced himself at a much slower forty miles an hour.
Still, he managed to slide here and there as he took curves in the
road that were dryer and less stable than he anticipated. Ben
would turn and scowl when Tim would chuckle as the Mustang's rear
end would occasionally slide sideways surprising Ben. But much to
his credit, Ben kept the vehicle at a slow pace and would not tempt
fate this day.
Once on the highway, Ben asked, "So, where'd ya' wanna go?"
"Home-- I want to go home," Tim responded wearily.
"To the mall it is." Ben cried.
"Mall?"
"Sure, that's where you wanted to go in the first place," Ben said.
"Now I just want to go home," Tim said emotionally finished with
the day.
"Come on... Look, I'm sorry I got pissed. You're right, the river
sucks. You want to go to the mall, no problem. I got some cash. Who
knows, maybe this is our lucky day. We sure as hell aren't going to
meet any girls on a muddy river bank." Ben admitted.
"We aren't going to meet any girls anywhere. At least, not any that
want to be with us." Tim replied.
"Jesus!" Ben said shaking his head, "I sure as shit feel better
about myself now. I don't know why I hang out with you." He
mumbled.
"That's easy; I'm the only one you know that won't shove your head
in a toilet or try to stuff you in a trash can," Tim said. Ben was
silent. It was true. Tim was the only person, a part from his
mother, who liked Ben.
For the first time in his life, Tim considered what life without
Ben as his friend might be like?
At the mall a half an hour and one soda later, Tim and Ben were
standing in front of a storefront that boasted a strange name. The
Spells-R-Us storefront had an old English-Tudor style façade.
Neither of the boys had ever seen the place before.
It appeared to be open. Odd thing was that none of the shoppers in
the mall seemed to be interested in this place that appeared to
have cropped up over night. In fact it looked to Tim as if they
hadn't noticed it at all. This was unusual in Baker, Tennessee.
Baker was a town where the opening of a new Taco Bell often drew a
crowd of a thousand plus as well as the Mayor, City Selectmen, at
least one local Bluegrass band and Harrison Kitcher's Dancing
Doggie Darlings act.
"I wonder what they sell?" Tim asked quietly trying to peer in
windows that appeared to have been dirtied deliberately. .
"Spells-R-Us," Ben pronounced, "Sounds like a magic store," Ben
said and Tim nodded in agreement.
Ben pushed the door open and a small bell sounded alerting those
within of the arrival of potential customers. Timothy walked in
the door after Ben. The boys looked around the dank, dark space.
It looked more a like poorly organized antique shop with
knickknacks and odds and ends from other peoples lives strewn
haphazardly about the shop. "This place is soooo Kewl," Ben was
saying as Timothy made his way into the main body of the store. Tim
thought that it was anything but kewl. It was creepy, that much
was certain, but that didn't make the place kewl.
Tim looked around at the environment. The place was dusty. Most
everything looked old to him, but that could have been because of
the dust. Everywhere he looked there were shelves of boxes, books,
bottles, clothing, and other things that looked like spices or
ingredients. There was a long counter, actually a glass case that
was haphazardly filled with gold and silver rings, necklaces,
jewelry and other things that he couldn't identify. Over that
counter on the wall behind it, were a number of masks, some were
animal some were more human in appearance. They ranged from the
wildly colorful to blandly white or black.
Toward the back were what looked like a number of costumes.
Clothing racks lined the walls of the rear of the shop and stood
two racks deep away from the wall toward the interior of the shop.
On them hung dresses, pants, shorts, suits, and what looked to Tim
to be the empty husks of people's bodies. Tim strode to the rack
with the empty people suits. They hung from clips at the
shoulders. They seemed to stare at Tim with empty socket eyes as
if expecting something from him... something akin to life.
As Tim drew nearer, he felt he could hear someone whispering to
him. With dawning revulsion, Tim realized that it was the empty
socket eyed people suits that were lip-lessly calling to him.
'Pick me...' pleaded one sweetly feminine voice. 'Oh
pleeeaaaassssseeeee pick me. I want to feel someone's touch again.
I'm so lonely'. To Tim the voice sounded so wretchedly sad. 'I was
soooo pretty. I can make you pretty... You'll love being me I
promise you...' Tim backed up a step and the voice; that of a girl
that couldn't be more than 20 years old, cried, 'Wait! Please... I
want to live again! Please put me on and let me live.'
There were many voices, male and female; he heard them all at once,
as if the one voice had woken the voices of the others. It was
almost as if these were not costumes but really empty bodies with
souls still attached to them.
Another voice protested, 'No... pick me, put me on and I can show
you so much.' this voice one equally as feminine and sexy insisted.
Only this was almost demanding.
'You don't want to be a bitch son!' said one masculine voice. 'Put
me on. I'm not supposed to be here. This is all a mistake. Come on
Kid, take me off this rack and let me show you what pussy is all
about!'
'You shut up!' fired another woman's voice from someplace in Tim's
head. 'You got exactly what you deserved for trying to cheat the
magic and you know it.'
'Liar! Liar! I'm telling you she stole my skin I didn't want to
live inside her body... I shouldn't be here!'
'Don't listen to them handsome said another completely sexy voice.
Come over here, and let me whisper to you...'
Tim did as he was told. He was drawn inexorably to the grotesque
visage of the empty skin of what looked to be a girl with dark red
hair. The skin was anatomically correct but it was hard to tell
what point of maturity this costume was supposed to represent in
the life of a human. The breasts were not too large, they sagged a
bit being attached to a loose empty skin. There was a patch of
reddish brown pubic hair at the groin and from his vantage-point;
he could see just the top of the lips of the costume's vulva. 'Take
me in your hands and feel me. I'm still warm...' Tim gently lifted
the skin in his hands. It was indeed warm. He was about to let it
fall from his hands when he was jolted by a memory, a vision that
played out rapidly.
It was that of a young girl, maybe sixteen though she could have
been older. She had wanted to try being... something else but Tim
couldn't quite see it. 'I only wanted to see what it was like...
you know, from a different perspective, said the voice. Put me on
and see, I'll never leave you my love. You and I will be together
always... just put me on, I can keep you wet all the time. Don't
you want to feel something deep inside of you? Put me on and see
what it's like to be me. Just try it; you'll love being...Wwwwwet!'
Without much warning there was a hand gripping, pulling him back
from some place inexplicable. Tim felt as if he were surfacing for
air from deep under the depths of some soundless, liquid world. In
fact, he gasped as he was pulled away from the racks of skins and
voices and his head filled with the sights and sounds of the
present and the world he actually lived. Almost as if they had
been following him up from whatever depths he had come from, Tim
could hear the screams of anguish from the souls trapped inside,
pleading for life and the pleasure of touch and sight and taste
once more.
Tim found he still had the empty arm of the skin of the young girl
who had enticed him so in his grip. He flung the empty skin back
into the mix with the other. She wailed painfully as he rejected
her advances, a jilted suitor denied the ultimate gift of union,
that of life. With distance, mercifully, came silence. They were
out of range or he had finally broken the hallucination, either
way, it was over. The skins stared back at him accusingly now with
the lifeless empty holes in their heads.
Tim turned to say, 'Ben, I think we should leave,' when a voice
startled him.
"Greetings young Sir's!" bellowed a deep, robust voice from behind
them. Both Ben and Tim spun around, with shouts of surprise, toward
the glass case to find an old man standing there where only a
second ago there had been no one. His long white hair and beard
fell over his white shirt and tan vest. Tim could not see below the
counter and therefore could not see the trousers the old man was
wearing and Tim thought, He could be some sick old man naked from
the waste down for all I know!
"Where the hell--" Tim checked himself, "Ah... I mean, where in
heck did you come from?"
"I assure you son; I came from no place in Hell. I do not practice
the 'Black Arts'," the old man replied, "and I can assure you young
man, that I am not!"
"Not what?" Tim asked confused.
"Some crazy old man, 'naked from the waist down!" said the old man.
Tim blushed. How in the fuck had he known I was thinking that?'
Tim glanced at Ben who was staring at Tim with an odd embarrassed
look.
Tim started denial at his friend by holding out his hands in a
"what" gesture and shaking his head, "You... How..." Tim stuttered,
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
The old man squinted one eye at Tim, "Are you calling me a teller
of untruths young man?" Tim blushed a deeper shade of red and
stammered several incoherencies and finally fell silent before this
crazy old man did more to damage his already bruised ego.
Ben asked, "Who are you?" Tim was grateful that the moment was
broken.
"The owner of this fine establishment," said the old man.
"And this establishment is a..." Tim asked humbly, holding a poker
face and trying hard not to not to ruffle the old man's feathers or
give away any other clues to his thoughts.
The old man smiled at Tim, "It's an establishment of enchantment,
un atelier magique, un negozio di magia."
"A what?" Tim asked in confusion.
The frustration on the old man's face was clear, "It's a magic
shop," the old man bristled as his shoulders sagged in
disappointment, "Ugh! That always sounds completely unromantic in
English."
"Then where are all the magic tricks?" Ben asked.
"Tricks?" The old man cried, sounding insulted and surprised at the
same time.
"Yeah, it looks more like a costume shop," Tim agreed.
"I don't sell tricks gentlemen. I sell spells and enchanted
devices, powders, potions and the like that achieve the deepest
desires of my customers through magic." The old man spread his
hands out wide at the accent of the last word and held his stance.
Tim and Ben held their tongues as long as they could, then on
queue, both started to snicker and then bray laughter. The old man
looked on with a kind, almost devious smile.
"So--" Tim started between bursts of laughter, "So-- You mean to
tell me that you're a magician?"
"Yeah, yeah..." Ben added. "You do things like, birthday parties
and shit like that, right?" That got Tim and Ben laughing hard all
over again. For the moment, it was one of those classic moments
shared between friends; that in most cases, is spoken of for years
to come.
As the two boys laughed, the old man said in a flat, disgusted
tone, "No, not exactly."
"Then... then... you must be some sort of wizard right?" Tim said
as he laughed. He slapped Ben on the back with great humor. His
experience with the human costumes now had been rationalized as
being some sort of trick.
The old man smiled a broad grin, "Exactly young man." This
statement from the obviously pleased old man almost brought them to
their knees with laughter.
"Okay--" Ben said trying his best to regain his composure which had
long ago fled the scene. "Okay then--", Ben spat out. Beside him,
Tim was trying to wave Ben off the question, knowing exactly where
Ben was going. Tim feared that if Ben were able to get the question
out, he just might piss in his pants. "Then where's your pointy
hat. Don't all wizards wear tall pointy hats?"
With no warning, both boys experienced a jolt of what felt like
high intensity electricity surge through them. There was a huge pop
that sounded more like a low-level explosion. Behind the counter,
the old man vanished inside a cloud of snow-white, odorless smoke,
and then there was only silence.
As the smoke cleared, the old man stood; deep blue cape and robe
made of satin. It was marked here and there with white stars, and
crescent moons of varying shape and size. Perched on his head was a
wide-brim cone shaped hat of the same color and design, "I hate
doing that," The Wizard mulled, "it reduces what I am to nothing
but a parlor trick." He smoothed out his cape and asked, "Well, is
this more along the lines of what you expect a Wizard to wear on
say... a trip to the grocery store?"
"Whoa!" Both boys breathed softly under their breath in unison.
Neither boy was laughing any longer. Both stood wild-eyed, bent
slightly at the waist, leaning forward just a bit as though they're
jaws had each gained 40 pounds in the moment.
"Now, you boys came in here looking for something." Ben and Tim
began shaking their heads, moving backwards towards the door.
"Come, come... don't be afraid. It's not like I'm going to turn you
into toads or something."
Tim and Ben stopped; swallowed deep and hard and looked at each
other. It was Tim that spoke up, "Ah, I don't think either of us
really wanted anything. We just wanted to see what was in here. So,
we'll just go now." Tim turned and made for the door but didn't get
far before he realized Ben was not following. He returned to Ben's
side and was tugging on his shirt for him to follow when the old
man continued to reason out his confusion as if Tim and Ben weren't
even in the same room.
"That's curious..." said the Wizard, "Usually most people don't
even know I'm here until they have a real need for my services."
"Really, we don't wan--" Tim continued to protest while Ben
remained oddly silent.
"Welllll," the Wizard said drawing out the word, "that must mean
that both of you are looking for something... Because if only one
of you had wanted something, then you wouldn't have come here until
you were alone." the wizard paused, "Let me see..."
"No really, I mean--" Tim started to say, but was cut off.
The wizard's eyes lit up like Christmas lights and he announced, "I
have it! Prom dates!" announced the Wizard proudly."
Tim looked at Ben and this time Tim whispered, "I think we should
leave."
Tim again turned for the door when Ben grabbed Tim by the shoulder,
"Wait a minute... Give the old guy a chance."
"Ben!" Tim whispered even more softly, "This isn't good. How in the
hell could he have known that?"
"That's exactly what I want to find out."
Ben began to move back to the counter as Tim called after him,
"No... Ben! BEN!"
"Okay," Ben admitted, "you have my attention."
The Wizard raised his eyebrows, "Aren't you interested too Tim?"
"Ben," Tim hissed, "the guy's spying on us or something, how else
could he have known? He's a stalker! One of those kidnappers you're
always hearing about. Why else would this place be here when it
wasn't here the day before?"
Ben turned to his friend with frustrated, teenage bewilderment on
his face, "What is wrong with you? This kind man--" with that the
Wizard mumbled, "Thank you, Ben," and without missing a beat Ben
continued, "--has seen from the look on our faces that we are
hopelessly dateless. Hell, Tim, the entire school knows we're
geeks. Half the guy's think we're gay because we only hang out
with each other. Not to mention, I can think of easier ways to
kidnap two boys. It isn't really much of a plan to rent floor
space in a mall, build a store there, stock it up and hope your
victims will wander in one day."
"Excellent point Ben!" declared the Wizard. "You really should
listen to him, that sort of plan would be far too costly."
Tim almost didn't hear what the old man was saying. He had fixated
on something Ben had said, "They think we're gay?" Tim mumbled
embarrassed.
"Yes Tim, they do, and you know it," Ben corrected. "Do you think
we're invisible? That no one ever sees us with dates, or
girlfriends? Even this guy can probably see it for God's sake. He's
offered us prom dates," Ben turned to the Wizard, "That is what
you're offering right, dates for both of us?"
The Wizard smirked, "It's within my power to make that possible.
It's also within your power to, how do you teenagers say it, 'Fuck
it up'?"
"See Tim... see? This may be our only chance to break this
stereotype we're stuck with," Ben pleaded excitedly.
"Ben... Come on! No one can make the girls just want to start
liking us. There's no such thing as magic."
Ben turned to the Wizard again, obviously excited by the prospect,
"They'll be beautiful right... I want everyone to be jealous of
us... everyone.
The Wizard took out a pad of paper and began to scribble on it. He
mumbled as he scratched out the words, "beautiful, everyone
jealous. Okay, I got it, anything else?"
"Ah... Ah," Ben said as he hurriedly tried to think of other
desirable traits.
"Take your time Ben," The Wizard soothed patiently. "I won't be
seeing anyone else until tomorrow at about five o'clock. You have
all day."
Tim stood in the wings, listening, while this so-called wizard took
down Ben's shopping list for the perfect prom date.
It did nothing to calm Ben's excitement. "I want them to want us!
You know... in that way."
The Wizard glanced up over the tops of a pair of his wire rimmed
glasses, "No Ben, I can't do that. Or should I say, I won't do
that."
"Why?" Ben practically whined.
"I can think of two very good reasons. First, you're only sixteen.
You're not prepared for fatherhood. I just don't trust that you
would have the common good sense it would take to do the right
thing yet."
Tim stood behind Ben and secretively whispered, 'Yes,' to himself
in celebration. Someone else see's what I see.
Secondly, if I were to cast a spell that powerful, the girl would
fall helplessly in love with you. She might not even want to, and
deep down in her heart she would know it. She would silently resent
you for what you asked. She would remain silent about that because
she would also be in love and never able to voice her resentment to
you. Is that what you want out of a wife?"
"WIFE?" Ben cried, "I never said anything about a wife."
"What are you asking for Ben, are you looking for love or lust?
Are you asking me to make a woman love you or just want you? I
don't do lust Ben, not at all. All that does is create disposable
people. I won't cast any spell that would allow you or anyone else
to toss someone that has an investment in you aside. If I would
make her want you then the only thing I could do to ensure that is
cast a love spell. You're asking for sex. Today, for most it's
just a casual thing. The magic of becoming one with someone is just
that, magic. Not contrived or a metaphor, but real magic. If
you're asking for a heart you can throw away when you're done with
it and all at no risk to you, then, no Ben, I can't do that for
you. And you have to promise that you will not try to defy my will
on this one. Otherwise the deal is off."
Tim stood silently by and watched as the words of one of the
feminine voice in his head play back, 'You're here for trying to
cheat the magic and you know it.'
Ben sulked, but in his head he knew he had possibly just caught the
old Wizard in a mistake. "That mean's no kissing either?"
"Ben, nothing, do you understand? She'll like you. That's all you
get until you understand what love is about. It's not about
selfishly wanting sex from your partner and until you know what
that's about I won't make that part of the deal. That doesn't mean
you don't have the power to bring her to love you."
"Okay, I got it," Ben responded pitifully.
"I don't know..." The Wizard thought long and hard. Tim was
grateful Ben had stuck his foot in it and now it seemed the deal
was off. Ben lamented testing the theory with such miserable
results. He should have waited to field-test it, fuck the Wizard.
Now it seemed the jig was up.
"Alright, here's what I'll agree to. In spite of your friend's rude
behavior when he came in here, I'll propose a test."
"Okay, great! Anything--"
"We'll see if Tim is more responsible than you." This time Tim
wasn't silent or only half-listening. He made a beeline to Ben's
side and started babbling right away.
"Ben, no... I don't want to have anything to do with this." Now it
was the Wizard's turn for silent listening.
"Come on buddy, think about it. Girls! Of our own, for the prom..."
"No Ben, I'd rather be dateless. It sounds risky. Just in the
short time we've been here--" Tim started to say and then cut
himself short.
"What?" Ben asked. "He hasn't told us anything yet! What part of
NOTHING sounds risky to you?"
"Nothing," Tim replied curtly.
"You're afraid of nothing?" Ben asked incredulous?
"I'm not afraid," but the truth was that he was afraid, terrified
in fact. So Tim tried to employ misdirection, "How can he promise
us dates? And what can I possibly do to make that happen for us?"
Ben imitated his friend with great exaggeration, "He's asking if we
want the possibility to prove that we're not just geeks Tim! I
don't want to be a loser for the rest of my freakin' life! Okay?
Maybe you're happy with being the punching bag of the entire high
school community, but I'm not. Now you're going to fuck this up
for me because you're scared? What are you scared of, a night out
with a date of your own, one night with a girl?" Ben asked, "I
fucked up and got over anxious a minute ago. Now it's up to you
pal." Ben turned to the wizard, "If he doesn't want to do this--"
"Then the deal is off Ben," the wizard confirmed, "I'm sorry. Tim
seems to have a good head on his shoulders I can trust. The last
thing in the world I can afford now is to give you a chance when
you've already shown me that you don't have any self-control. Tim
here, I believe has enough to make sure neither of you get into any
trouble. That's the deal, take it or leave it."
"We'll leave it if you don't mind," Tim replied.
"No!" Ben cried. "Look, let me talk to him for just a moment." The
Wizard shrugged and waited. "Tim!" Ben said grabbing him by the
shirt and stepping him out of ear shot of the old man. "Are you a
fagot?"
"What? Let go of me," Tim insisted, surprised at Ben's question,
"No I'm not a fagot. If you say that again, I will punch you in the
face. Count on it."
"I don't care!" Ben said. "Punch me. It would be easier to take
than what you're doing to me now. Don't blow this man. Don't you
get tired of just hanging out with me?"
"Funny you should mention that at just this precise moment Ben," It
was a notion that he had toyed with all day long in fact. And what
if it works? What if this is your key to a more normal
relationship with Ben? What if he did find someone as a result of
his 'experiment' so-called? What if... What if... What if... What
if... The questions swirled about in his mind, growing in number
until they overwhelmed him.
Ben brought Tim back with yet another question, "You don't like
being called a fagot."
"I warned you Ben..." Tim said getting angry.
"You did, but what are you going to do about it everyone else that
calls you a fagot behind your back Tim? What are you going to do
about the Jocks that are telling everyone that you and I are fagot
lovers?"
"That's not true. They aren't saying that," Tim said, but the
authority was now gone from his bravado.
"Yes they are Tim. I've heard it. Maybe you haven't because you
choose not to, but I have. They're all laughing at you Tim.
They're laughing at both of us."
Tim was silent while he considered this latest news flash. Then Tim
said, "But Ben, magic...come on. There is no way that this old man
can just hand us beautiful prom dates on a platter. It's not
possible, and the whole idea of fucking magic, Jesus Ben, where has
your mind gone?"
"It's in a trashcan where Kirk shoved the rest of me last week
because he didn't' like the way I was walkin' down his hall way.
You know why it's there?" Ben asked his friend. Tim shook his head,
"Because I'm not big enough or strong enough to get any real
respect from those clowns. They do it because I'm different from
them, so are you fat boy and they'll keep doing that to us until we
can show them that we can do what they do, at least in part. So
please... Please do this and save us from the hell of the senior
class."
"No one thinks that I'm a fagot..." Tim said softly.
"Yeah, tell yourself that the next time you get a locker opened in
your face or you're tripped in the hallway with your mountain of
books piled in your arms. Face it Tim, we're geeks and no girl is
ever going to pay any attention to us as long as we're seen as
geeks."
"Jenny Turner doesn't think we're geeks."
"Because Jenny is a freakin' geek!" Ben snapped back. "We have the
chance to be the envy of the school and you're going to blow it for
me."
Tim narrowed his eyes, "For you?"
Ben's excitement level dropped a notch, "I... I... I meant for us,
Okay, for both of us. I'm just excited that's all. We about to
give us the golden ticket and you're telling me, no thanks, I'll
pass I'm afraid of Uoompaloompas. I don't want to blow it because
you're scared of girls. He said it was just a test." Ben again
turned to the Wizard, "That's right. That's what you said. It's
just a test, isn't it?"
The Wizard only nodded to the affirmative.
Ben turned back to Tim, "See. If it doesn't work out, then the
deal is off. No harm no foul. He's looking to you to prove that
you have the common sense to keep me out of trouble." Again Ben
turned back for confirmation.
"That's exactly right Ben," the wizard agreed.
Tim looked confused, "Ben, this isn't right." Tim extended his arm
toward the Wizard, palm up and asked, "Have you noticed that he
knew our names without our having to tell him?"
"Tim, we must have told him."
"We didn't Ben. It's like he knows stuff he shouldn't, stuff about
us."
The old man said, "I explained that. I'm a wizard."
Tim shook his head, "No offence Sir, I don't believe that. In fact,
it's bullshit."
The Wizard was taken aback by the harsh statement. He hadn't seen
that coming, but it was a moment of passion, not all such extremes
are seen by the likes of him. Passion, he thought, very
unpredictable.
"Then there's no harm in humoring your friend then is there, just
to see." Ben looked at time with pleading eyes. Please... Please...
Please...
Tim paused for a moment, putting together everything he'd heard to
this point and then exhaled in a long frustrated breath, "What do I
have to do?"
"YESSSSSSSSSSS!" Ben cried out.
The Wizard reached up behind him with an arm that seemed impossibly
long and reached for a plain white mask on the wall at the top near
the ten-foot ceiling. Holy shit! Tim thought as the old man's arm
reached and reached and reached to impossible lengths, It's a trick
of the light. There is no way this man has a seven-foot arm! He
withdrew the mask from the pin that held it and turned and handed
it to Tim.
"What's this?" Ben asked disappointedly.
"It's a mask."
"Yes, I can see that. What do we do with it?"
"It's for Tim," said the wizard. Ben looked totally deflated at
the news. "He wears it and for the next twenty-four hours we see
how you to behave once his identity is hidden from the general
population. We see if Tim has the restraint to keep you out of
trouble. Come back tomorrow and give me a report. If all goes
well, you will both have dates for the prom in five weeks."
"What's it do?" Tim asked this time.
"It hides your current self from others, everyone but those that
know you had the mask in the first place."
"I'm gonna look silly wearing this around school," Tim said, almost
laughing.
"No one will know you have it on. Try it if you wish, otherwise, I
will put it back on the wall."
"We'll try it! We'll try it!" barked Ben.
"No we won't," Tim said smacking Ben in the back of his head with
the flat of his hand! "I'm not going into school or any place with
this white stage mask on my face. Forget it Sir, thanks for
amusing us."
"Then I want to try it!" Ben hollered.
"That's not the deal. I need someone I believe I can trust to keep
you in check, Ben." The wizard scolded.
"TIM, Come on buddy."
Tim looked to the wizard, a look of Why are you egging him on? Let
it go already, etched on his face.
The wizard responded to the look, "Tim, I know how this sounds,"
admitted the wizard. "There are just some things we were never
brought up to believe in. I didn't believe in magic either, not at
first anyway. Then a man took me under his wing and taught me that
magic was real. It didn't matter if you believed in it, because
after you've seen it work, you believe anyway. You've already seen
magic work... it will happen. After the test, you'll both have
dates for the prom. That is an un-retractable, inescapable, non-
refundable, guarantee. You'll both be the envy of the entire
student body and then you can both have what your dreams call you
to when the magic is done."
"Just put it on right?" Tim asked skeptically.
"Well..." the wizard hesitated.
Tim pointed an accusatory finger at the wizard, "I knew it!" said
Tim feeling he had just rooted out a conspiracy.
The Wizard held up his hand, "Calm down Tim, of course there are
rules. But the rules are put in place to protect you just as much
as they are put in place to protect everyone else around you. You
want protection, correct," asked the wizard leveling a scrutinizing
eye at Tim?
"Protection is good," Tim agreed. "Okay, shoot!" During the
exchange Ben was quiet, painfully aware his big mouth had very
nearly blown a chance at respect, as he understood it.
"First, only let one person put the mask on you. Don't do it
yourself. The mask can only be removed by the one that placed it on
you. Do you understand that Tim?"
"Why is that?"
"The mask knows who put it on you. The mask will also make you and
everyone see the person the mask makes you appear to be. Everyone
except Ben and yourself will believe it as if you'd always been the
person everyone perceives you to be. The mask will also recognize
you as the person everyone else perceives you to be. The mask will
not be able to understand that it's really Tim under the mask. If
you put it on as Tim, then only someone the mask perceives at being
Tim can take it back off again. This merely prevents the mask from
becoming dislodged or accidentally taken off by someone else. That
would be bad," The wizard finished.
"Why?"
The old man whimsically gestured and said, "The entire fabric of
the universe might actually unravel destroying life throughout."
Tim and Ben stood fearfully by, looked at each other and said in
unison, "Really?"
The wizard grinned, "No-- not really." The relief on their faces
was plain to see.
"But--" the wizard continued, "--if it could just be knocked off
you'd be exposed as a fraud eventually. It's imperative that only
Ben put the mask on you. If anyone but Ben puts it on you Tim, it
could leave you permanently trapped within the perception of the
person you become while in the mask.
"That sounds scary," Tim said now holding the mask away from him at
arms length.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," dismissed the wizard. "You
can't help but follow this rule. If Ben puts the mask on you,
he'll be the only one that can take it off anyway. That's the
safeguard."
"Okay, any others?"
"It can't be taken off in front of anyone else. You and Ben must
be alone when it goes on or comes off. When you're wearing it, it
simply won't come off if others are around. No one else can see
the magic; the mask simply won't allow it. If Ben tries to put it
on you when others are around, then the magic is drained out of it
and it will never work again. This is a valuable mask. I want it
to be in full working order when you bring it back."
"Sounds easy enough, Ben puts it on me and then Ben takes it off.
All this happens when we're totally alone."
"Right, you got it," the wizard said happily.
Tim took a deep breath, turned to Ben, and said, "You'd better pay
the man sphincter lips."
"Me?" Ben wailed.
"It's your test. You want a date, you pay," Tim said still uneasy
about the whole thing.
"Oh, all right," Ben turned to the Wizard digging for his wallet,
"--how much?"
"Let's see if you get through the test, how's that? If you do and I
let you have a date for the prom, you can pay then."
"Gee thanks..." Ben turned to Tim, "You hear that? Try now, pay
later."
"Yeah, yeah--" Tim said motioning toward the door. He had no
intention of putting the mask on. Tim's objective was to get Ben
out of this store before something happened Tim couldn't control.
If he could get Ben out of here, then he was sure that he could
dodge that bullet easily. "This had better not make me look any
more foolish than I already look or I'm going to shove this mask up
your ass Ben. I swear to God--" Tim added for good measure.
"Okay, Okay," Ben said. He reached out and shook the wizard's hand.
"Thanks Mister. I promise, I'll remember every word you said."
The wizard nodded and grinned, he then called out to Tim who was
trying to leave with mask in hand, "Tim, you too. Oh and don't
make promises you don't intend on keeping."
Tim assumed this was in reference to his notion of blowing off the
entire experience once he got out side. How the fuck does he do
that? Rattled now that the old man might expose Tim's plan to
refuse to let Ben put the mask on him, Tim moved even faster toward
the door, putting distance between himself and the creepy old
wizard, "Right, thanks," and with the tinkle of the bell over the
door, Tim was gone.
"I don't think your friend heard that last part Ben, make sure he
understands not to make promises he can't fulfill."
"Yeah, sure thing," Ben cried out as he hit the door and was gone.
The Wizard watched as the door closed and rang the bell at the top.
He chuckled to himself and, in a flash and a puff of smoke,
returned to where he had come from.
The two rode home in Ben's Mustang, with the top down. The late
afternoon sun dappled their faces with fast moving patches of
shadow and light as Ben drove toward the neighborhood where they
both lived. Ben was clearly excited, if this worked, Ben would get
his own mask and potentially, a date for the prom. Tim could also
tell Ben was agitated. If things went according to the old man's
plan, then once he put the mask on later, he (Tim) would become
popular, good looking and charismatic, no longer the science geek
of the 10th grade, at least that was the implication the 'Wizard'
had given them. Ben's irritation stemmed from the fact that Tim
would become Mr. Popular, Ben would miss his turn this time around.
Tim sat quietly hoping the subject of what had happened to them at
the mall would just blow over. The mask, the so-called wizard, had
handed him sat in his lap. There was no bag, no receipt no proof of
ownership one way or the other. They could just walk away with it
if they wanted to... but why? There was no need to. The answer
was easy for Tim, it pointed to a set up as he now believed this
was.
Tim regarded the mask again. It was not an uncommon thing, nothing
more really than one might be able to pick up in a novelty or
theatrical store. Its surface was smooth and glossy, the eyes were
empty. He held it up to examine it and the mask felt as if it
shifted slightly in his hands. Tim had looked at it carefully in
the shop where they had gotten it. Now however, Tim noticed that
there was something that was either different or something he had
missed before.
In the store, the mask seemed to be androgynous, smooth with little
definition or facial personality. Tim was certain that the thing
had no representation of lips in the store. Now however, the face
of it had high cheek bone impressions, a soft brow, slender nose
that flared gently to uniform nostrils. There where a pair of full,
plump lips, sensual lips that curved upward into a soft almost
feminine smile almost as if the model had just caught the faint
hint of roses on the air or perhaps had just been graced with the
sweet memory of distant love.
Tim smiled at the face as though the mask's smile was meant for
him, then blinked in confusion as a thought came to him. Not for
me... but to be worn on me!
Holy Shit, this is a girl's face! He cast the mask down on the
seat between them startled, not only by its miraculous shift in
appearance, but by the way it seemed to draw itself to him. "Hey
Ben, this mask..."
"What?" Ben asked.
"It's a girl's face."
Ben glanced over from the driver's seat, "Lemme see." Tim held up
the mask. Ben made several glances at the mask which was plain and
void of any level of personality as far as Ben could see; then
said, "I don't see the resemblance."
"What?" Tim asked surprised. Tim was also a bit startled at the
idea of putting something on his face that would cause him to
resemble a girl in any fashion. "Ben, this is a girl's face. Look
at it." Ben did and shook his head. "I'm not putting it on." Tim's
intentional ruse was now forgotten. Whatever was going on here was
truly stranger than fiction. This latest development only added
fuel to the fire of Tim's objections.
Ben stewed for a moment; his fingers were bone white on the
steering-wheel. As Ben relaxed, he finally said, "Fine, give it to
me and we'll take it back. But I swear to God, the next time we
find ourselves down at the river tossing rocks in it and wondering
what the fuck we're doing there, don't bother to bitch about it to
me. You'll already have your answer."
Ben didn't turn around right away. He waited to allow Tim a moment
to think about it. Tim held the mask up to his face the empty side
toward his own face and looked though the eyes, being careful at
the thought of the Wizard's warning not to actually put it on
himself. From this angle it didn't quite look so feminine.
"Okay. I'll try it, just once. I still think the whole thing is
creepy man. Magic for fuck sake--"
Ben responded. "It's like you said, it's probably bullshit anyway.
But what if it's not? What if the old guy is for-real? Then we got
dates... hot dates for the prom. No one will be able to look at us
the same way ever again."
"He's not right Ben, in more ways than one. This is about
something else. Free magic, a test? I think the guy is scoping us
for some other reason."
"Like what?"
"Ever hear of a dude named John Wayne Gacey?" Tim asked.
"Oh..."
"You know... He was a magician too," Tim added, "and a clown. He
used to entertain at little kids birthday parties and shit. The
whole time he was stackin' bodies up down in his crawl space."
"Mannnnnn," Ben said seeming to think hard for the first time since
this impossible opportunity had been presented to them.
"Yeah," Tim answered.
Neither one of them spoke much the rest of the way. Tim continued
to stare into the eyes of the mask in his hand. If the old man was
right, then Tim would be giving Ben all his trust to take the mask
back off when Tim wanted him to. He had no reason to mistrust Ben.
If this thing could make him more appealing and get a date to the
prom, then what was the harm? It was just until tomorrow, not a
long time to wait out of an entire lifetime. If I don't like it, I
can just ask Ben to take it back off. I'll probably do just that
before the test is over anyway. Magic my ass, I know there no such
thing, right?