I think before I go any further, at least in my eyes, it might be a good time to kind of describe what my room is like. I mean, when I look back over my life, there has always been a couple of steady things that, I think, shaped part of who I am, and what I became. They were the kind of things that didn't change or upset the flow of life around me, you know? One was the fact that, although we were not what you would call poor, we didn't have a lot of money. We were never lacking in need of anything, though. You see, when my Mom and Dad divorced, he moved out and let us keep the house, not only because it was what you would call affordable for us, but also because it had become my home since as long as I could ever remember. He explained to me once that, although I didn't fully understand it at the time, some things in life add stability when everything else falls apart. The home you grow up in was one of them, and he wanted me and Mom to have that while I was in school and everything. The payments stretched us kind of thin sometimes - more so that I realized - but we still had food to eat, and a place to stay warm and dry. My clothes were always a mix of the usual Walmart 'cheapies' (as people tended to call them), and hand-me-downs from other family or Goodwill. Occasionally I had some nicer stuff thrown in the mix, too - when we could afford them. I mean, there were never any Nike's or other big-name brands to speak of, but honestly, I never had a taste for them like a lot of kids did. I knew of one guy in my class, who made it his sole purpose in life to have anything in the $100 shoes and up range, and the designer jeans, and other classy, stylish looks. I mean, it seemed appearances were more important to him than anything else. Either his parents were rich, or he afforded them through some other means, because that was him. To me it was okay, except for the fact he looked down on some of us other kids disdainfully, including me. I always thought he was just "full of it", you know? For me, clothes were clothes so long as they weren't ragged with holes, or thread-bare. Mine were far from it, maybe not the newest looking, but they were clean and respectable. As was a lot of kids in my grade.
Dad always seemed to take care of us though. I remember when there were times that money was really tight, and more than once Mom was on the phone talking with him. Not unkindly or anything, but just asking for help. She always promised to pay him back, but in all the years I lived there, I never heard or saw him take anything in return. That was another thing about my parents: Dad paid child support, as ordered by the court I guess, but I never once heard him complain about it, nor did Mom. Yet they still had this thing where they could talk - and I mean really talk. Not fight, not argue, not make snide remarks to each other or put one another down. I swear, that was something I never, ever heard from either of them, even behind the others back. I know a lot of it was because of what they were doing for me, trying to keep civility and make as stable of a family environment as they could for me. Keeping a neutral space around them and not letting me into their problems was, well, a good thing I guess. The thing is though, it was other little things I always noticed, always saw and "felt" at times that did even more. Like, if we got into a tight corner, which didn't really happen that often but it DID happen, she would talk to him and ask if he could help her out any. Then, the next thing I knew, we would get a check in the mail, sometimes for as much as a thousand dollars. Believe me, back 10 years ago that was a lot of money to put up for anyone, including us. I even watched her open one envelope, and then sat down with tears in her eyes, you know? She was, and we were both, incredibly grateful for my father, and for his being there for us both.
Something else was notable, too: he still came to visit me, a couple times a year, and he would always ask questions about how we were doing, whether I or we needed anything. I'm really not trying to brag about him - because I know my Dad was kind of an exception to the rule. This was him though, and now that I'm older, I see it in a whole different light, I think - one with more appreciation, if that makes any sense. One time, our old car was having fits with something going wrong, and Mom was just trying to make it last as long as she could. I don't know what I said or did, honest. I mean, me and Dad were just talking one day, and somehow, I laughed about how we didn't make it to church one Sunday, because the car died on us halfway there. That's all I can honestly recall about it and even then, I didn't think anything of it. I mean heck, I was maybe 10 or 11 or something, just old enough to start growing up some, I guess. The next thing I knew though, was about a week later Dad drove up one day. It wasn't a new car or anything, but it sure was new to us, like a 1984 Regal or something. When he called for Mom to come outside and try it out, she came to the door and just stopped, motionless. He walked over and whispered a few words to her, something I couldn't hear, but then she slowly came out and was really surprised when in the end, he just handed her the keys. He told her to sell what we had, and send him the money and he'd call it even. See what I mean? Someone pulled up and he left, a friend of his, I think, and as she watched him pull away to the highway, she cried. Go figure that out, right? My Dad did those things, partly because he was taking care of me, but also because he was continuing to take care of us! How many deadbeat fathers are out there, now, who would laugh at even trying to do that much? How many out there still run down their ex's down, blaming them like there's no tomorrow with all kinds of trash talk? Even more so, how many Dad's out there put the kids in the middle of it all, or pretend they don't even have any kids to start with? That was why I loved my Dad, because as I grew older and started seeing other kids, from broken homes or worse, and how they had to live and were treated, I learned the world was imperfect. I learned to appreciate how much he went out of his way to help us, to care about us. Some would say well, that it's just the Christian thing to do. Maybe so, but I can tell you a lot about some supposed Christian fathers who don't even come close, if you know what I mean. My Grams used to tell me a lot of times that my Dad treated us as good as gold. I believed it, and was so ever thankful for it.
So, a constant thing in my life (getting back on track now), was my room - and there is a very special reason for me to bring it up here. It goes back to what I've described before about our house, where the whole upstairs was considered pretty much mine. Not that it had that much in it, but to have my own bathroom and bedroom was a lot more than most people, most kids anyway, could dream of. In a way, it was like my declaration of independence, being a single kid with a Mom who never remarried. Don't get me wrong, we did a lot of stuff together - and I mean a LOT of stuff - but when the end of the day came, the upstairs was like my haven, my little world as she called it. As I got older, I even appreciated it more, I guess - for a lot of reasons. Remember, I was a mellow kid - you know, quiet and shy. Not just at school, but at church and home too. Part of my home life was centered around just being kind of a private kid that way.
My room, to me, was awesome! It was a big room, one that stretched from the back of the house to the front, upstairs, ending with this dormer-like window that overlooked the front yard. The back, outside corner of the room had a window out both sides set right into the corner, one side which overlooked the driveway, and the other overlooking the back yard. If you looked out at just the right angle, you could see the treehouse my Dad and I built, too. It was a place where I also spent a lot of time in reading or doing whatever, too.
Inside my room, I had a decent TV I guess, a game console (both an N64 and, later, a Nintendo GameCube). Along the outside wall was one of these dresser units with a kind of attached entertainment stand (for lack of a better word). It was really just an attached table, more or less, which gave me a small desk and a place to put my TV. The room was kind of denim blue in color on the walls, along with the usual white ceilings, which was fashioned to kind of match my favorite basketball team (the Kentucky Wildcats). Even my carpet was like a real thick, shaggy blue and white mix! Other stuff included Star Wars and Star Trek posters, and a few odd pictures of me, or me, my Mom and Dad all three. Oh, and I wasn't really that much into sports, but besides watching the Wildcats, I absolutely loved watching NFL football to, especially when the Washington Redskins were on. To me, for some reason, they gave me an escape and an interest at the same time. I would sometimes fantasize, like a lot of kids did, playing on the court with the team, or being that wide receiver out there making the game-winning catch. Or even just being the coach, you know? It would have been cool to do that for real maybe, but as I grew up, my body just wasn't built to compete in those kinds of leagues, and I knew it. So, before the dreams ever grew to the point of exploding, I just recognized reality for what it was. My body probably thanked me somewhere along the way...
The last thing I need to describe though, is the one thing that was so awesome to me it defies description. I'm sure I will do a poor job of it here ultimately, but here goes anyway. It was a Christmas present one year, when I was around 10 or 11, I think: a queen-sized waterbed, made to fit inside a home-made headboard and rails, built for me by my uncle! Some people might just go 'Huh!', but back then, this thing was the best! The headboard had like this bookshelf thing sunk into it, with cubby-holes on each sides, and a big oval mirror in the center. It was finished in something that looked like oak, but wasn't as hardened or heavy like oak wood usually is. It had lamps on each side above the cubby holes (for lack of a better term), fashioned as a hook, but partitioned off. I could turn them off and on independently at will, too. Those lamps became (and still are, because I still have my bed even today) a defacto standard for me, I think. I hardly ever used overhead lights, and I used a power strip switch down in the floor at the corner of the headboard, allowing me to control their on/off state all at once.
The bed itself wasn't like one of those big, wavy motion beds, as it had baffles to keep from making me seasick. What I liked best, though, was how it fit around me, kind of molded into however I wanted to lay, whether on my back, side, or whatever. It was warm too, so different - and just cool, like in awesome cool! I got into a habit of leaving my windows opened, even in the winter - no matter how cold it got outside! Of course, that time of year I would only open them a little, but as long as it wasn't freezing cold, the outside air kept my room cool. That's when the waterbed felt best! At night time, or in the evenings when I came in after school, I would plop a bean bag up on the bed and climb in to watch TV, play video games, do homework or whatever else, turning on one of the bed lamps when it got too dark to see, and just sit back. It was, in a word, awesome! (How many times have I said this already, I wonder?)
Okay, I know - time to get back on track again. Up to that point in life, I had worn pajamas almost all the time in autumn and winter, but I quickly discovered that wearing them became way uncomfortable; I got hot too easily, so I tried - for a time - to go without anything except my briefs on. That almost worked, especially after I learned to adjust the thermostat on the bed, but there were times my back would still sweat, and the moisture would feel sticky against the sheets and everything. That's how I settled into wearing t-shirts most of the time with my briefs, and not just for sleeping. I think that is also what made me start making t-shirts more of a normal wardrobe, given most everywhere else I went. Except maybe church, of course, or somewhere special. Whenever and wherever you found me, I was always in short sleeves, too. I didn't like tank tops - just crew cut, solid t-shirts, some maybe with simple patterns on them. Neither my Grams or my Mom cared for the printed t-shirts that a lot of teens wear, and to be truthful, I didn't mind it one way or the other. I just had a lot of them in my drawer, or stuffed into my closet. Lots of nights, after we'd eat supper and Mom retired to her room, I was in mine in my briefs and t-shirt, though - and it became a norm for me. Not because I felt like prancing around half-naked, or was trying to free up my junk or anything. Just because, it was my room, my floor, and well, my world.
One more thing made a big impact on me too: my room was right next to the roof, a metal roof at that, and even though it was insulated, it still echoed most sounds whenever it rained. It was a good sound, even if the rains were heavy or hard. There were nights I would wake up, and listen to the steady thrum falling outside. The drip in the background, as it fell down the window sill; the stream that fell off the back of the house into the gutters; even thunder, which was even more special. Not just at night, either; there were a lot of times I would plop the bean bag into the corner, with my windows opened, and just sit there listening and looking out, watching during the daytime, too.
It was the cooler days of autumn, winter and spring though, that I loved the most. The rain, when it fell, had the most calming effect on me and my moods than anything else. Sometimes, when I felt uptight or needed to vent my frustrations at something - school, life in general, whatever - my room, in this corner, is where you would find me. It just did something for me that nothing else would, or could. Even Mom thought it was strange, but she's the one who pointed it out one night to Grams, while they were clearing the supper dishes. I'm sure she thought I was out of earshot, but I overheard that and other little conversations too. For some reason, I took some of it to heart; I never really knew why, though. I just did.
- + - + - + - + -
So there, that is another little slice of my world. That afternoon, Cody and I were in my room, and he had one of my older bean bags leaning against on it, pretty close to me and the windows; I had the other one, propped behind me, letting me stretch out on the side of the bed, but lying as close as I could get with him. My knee was really sore and aching then, not because of the position I was in, but more from just the overall effort, I think. The pain medication from earlier had worn off already, so we were making the best of the moment together. We listened to the rain outside for a minute, and I think he liked it as much as I did, because at one point he rose and unlatched the window completely, raising it up further and letting the fresh air seep inside. We were not so cold anymore, having warmed up from being on the waterbed, and from the now-dry sweats and shirts we were wearing. We really didn't say anything for a couple minutes, which looking back I guess was kind of odd. We just sat there, the both of us looking at each other sometimes, or looking out the window, and just listening. I knew we didn't want to start any games or anything, because Mom and the nurse were still at it downstairs, going full blast I think, doing what women loved to do. Every so often someone would laugh, and you knew they were discussing those women-things that, well, women talk about when they get together. Finally, Cody and I both just kind of sighed at the same time, and almost simultaneously turned and faced the TV together. I picked up the remote and turned it on, finding come kind of cartoon I think to satisfy for the time being.
Before long though, I was soon reminded of this queasy feeling that had been building up for a while, but yet one which I had ignored or put off because of everything else that had been going on. When Cody and I initially arrived upstairs and I got settled, he had taken a moment while going for the towels we needed, and made use of the toilet which I heard in the distance. Me, I had hardly had anything to drink that day since before gym class, so I guess the urge just didn't hit me as much as you might expect. The problem I was experiencing now, however, was an even heavier blow. Before long that feeling built up to an uncomfortable degree which I could no longer ignore.
"Cody?" I asked, kind of sheepishly.
"Hmm?"
"Umm, I need some help..."
I didn't mind it too bad, although I think he found it amusing once I told him I need to go to the bathroom. He helped me get up, which was not an easy task mind you. As awesome as my bed was, it made it difficult sometimes for normal people, yet alone a "handicapped" person, to get out of. My left leg and knee started throbbing again, and as we walked down the hallway and entered the bathroom, I was not on very steady ground. Still, he helped me over to the toilet, where I let go of him. "Umm, you might want to go back, this is gonna take a few minutes."
He made a face, then shrugged. "Okay, well, just call out when you're done then," he said, making his way out of the room.
There are no gory details to go into here, nor would I want to, other than to say it did take me a little while. Probably 10- to 15-minutes later, I finally finished. I had a little trouble standing back up, but I did get my sweats and stuff pulled up just as I called out for him. I tried and barely made it over to the sink on my own - and immediately wished I hadn't, as I was now hurting again, badly. I did wash my hands though just as he returned.
"Oh man..." Cody exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. I laughed when I saw his expression in the mirror. He then walked over to the window and opened it a little, fanning the air before returning to my side. "Man, you know how to stink up a room!" Taking my arm and pulling it around his shoulder again, I whispered sorry or something or another, but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he just supported me and we made our way back to the bedroom and settled in again. Cody once again returned to my side, and from there lay his arm on me before we resumed watching TV.
It wasn't long after that when Mom came upstairs, the nurse finally having left and went on her way back to school. After a soft knock at the door, and a "Come in" from me, she entered the room and walked over, sitting down on the side rail. Checking me out, you know, the way most mothers do their kids after they've been hurt and stuff, she eventually sighed and clicked her tongue.
"Stay off of that leg, okay? Don't mess around with it any more than you have to. Maybe it will heal up in a few days, but I guess that'll depend on how much you let it be. I don't need a bunch of doctor bills to build up from it, if we can help it," she mused, looking at me but smiling all the same. I nodded, not sure if she was relieved or worrying or what, but that satisfied her. "I know, it's not your fault at all, honey," she went on, before turning and addressing Cody. "Say, how would you like to stay with us a couple days, maybe through the weekend if your parents say it's alright?"
Cody's eyes got big, and it was hard for him to contain the exuberance in his voice. "Sure! I mean... if it's okay."
"It is, and I know Sean would probably like to have some company around here. Let me call and see what your mother says, and then what say I go and get you boys a pizza for the night. It's been a long day, and I know you two will probably hole up here for the rest of the evening. Did you even get to eat lunch?"
At the mention of food, suddenly my stomach growled, and I bet Cody's did too; with all the excitement, we had missed out on anything normal. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was half-past four. Before I could say anything, however, Cody piped up. "Oh man, we're starving - or at least I am! I haven't eaten anything except a banana this morning before school!"
Satisfied, Mom stood up. "Well, I can fix that for the short term, if you boys just give me a few minutes." With that, she was out the door and descending the stairs.
I looked at Cody and grinned, and he returned it. "You're the first person to ever spend a night with me like this, man..." I whispered.
"Um, well, it's not exactly my first," Cody replied, "but it is the first time I've been away with anyone from school or church and, you know, not in my family." He paused, as his face lost some of its excitement. "I just hope Dad lets me stay, you know? I don't think Mom is home yet..."
I knew what he meant, because I was secretly hoping just as much as he was. I've explained it before, I know - this strange dynamic around his parents. It's not that they were THAT strict, but it like that feeling you get sometimes with people, when they think one way and you think in another. Then, somehow, neither really connects, you know? His parents were like that, sometimes doing little odd things, or deciding about things differently than you would have expected. So, when he said that, I understood and nodded before looking back at the TV. I reflected on something Mom said: '...I know Sean would probably like to have some company helping him around here...' I honestly had not thought that far ahead yet, and it dawned on me that if Cody didn't get to stay, I would have to probably stay downstairs on the couch, with my Mom, for the whole weekend. That was NOT something I really wanted to do, believe me! I mean, I loved my mom, don't get me wrong - but she had her shows and movies on TV and stuff which, some of them, would probably make me gag if I had to suffer through them for long. If we didn't watch TV, it was worse, especially if she was practicing or playing bridge, like she usually did on Friday nights. She would probably try to get me involved with what I already believed was the most boring card game - ever. She had already tried a few times to teach me, but it did no good - too many rules and setups and whatever. For me, as a kid, I just wasn't interested.
A clap of thunder outside startled me back to reality, and it must have surprised Cody too, as I felt him jerk behind me. Glancing around, I saw he was watching TV with me, and for a moment I thought to myself, 'Wow, could it happen?' Could I really have someone spending a whole weekend - with me? For some reason, I started getting nervous, and a whole host of butterflies started taking flight in my stomach. I was willing to do anything, ANYTHING at all, for it to be alright, to have a friend, especially him, stay with me.
It wasn't long before we heard a shout come from downstairs, one which neither of us understood, so Cody went to the door and answered. "Yes ma'am?" Then after a few seconds listening, he left me and descended the stairs. He was gone several minutes, long enough I started to wonder what was going on. After what seemed like an eternity though, I finally heard him running back up the steps before rushing into the room, carrying a soda in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. He was grinning widely when he stopped. "Think you can give me enough clothes to make it until tomorrow?"
"I'll give you anything I have!" I replied, happily.
"Cool, because Dad said he would drop me some clothes off in the morning," he replied. The Cody added, with emphasis, "for - the - whole - weekend!"
I almost cried out and could have hugged him on the spot! I was excited, and he knew it, too. In fact, as he handed me the bag of chips and climbed over back into his place, I saw a level of excitement in him as well. When he situated himself again, he was just as close, if not closer, to me than even before. The waterbed, though baffled, still moved with waves as both Cody and it settled in, making me fall back into him - which I didn't mind one bit. It felt so awesome, really, and I had already let some of my inhibitions leave me about being with him. Evidently, he had too, as he popped the top of the soda can and took a drink before passing it to me. "It's the only one you guys have; your mom said she would get some more. I figured we could share."
That was another first for me - drinking after someone like that, and maybe for an instant I hesitated. Somehow, this guy and me ... we were fast becoming soul mates, and I did trust him. So, I took the can and sipped a drink as he retrieved and opened the bag of chips. We both started chowing down, and between mouthfuls, Cody added, "Your Mom is leaving now to go and get us a pizza, and she said she'll pick us up a couple of movies, too. At least, if she can find anything good." He paused, then turned and looked at me. "She's pretty cool, isn't she? Your Mom, I mean."
He stated it as a fact, not as a question, but I still nodded "Yeah..."
We munched away, sharing our drink and watching TV. I heard a car door shutting outside and an engine come to life, signaling Mom's departure. There was more thunder rumbling in the distance, and the rain started coming down even harder. I had already figured we were in for a good soaking by then, one which would probably last all night. As the rain hit the roof, the sound steadily grew louder and caused Cody to turn to me. "Hey, you got the remote?" I reached back into the headboard, grabbed it and lay it on his lap, before reaching for another handful of chips. He turned the volume up, and we watched in silence as time passed. Eventually the show went off, and he sort of turned to me again. "So, what do you want to do tonight?" Before I could answer, however, he quickly amended that by adding, "Uh, what do you THINK you can and want to do tonight?"
I laughed. "I dunno, we'll figure something out after we eat. You know I've got board games and stuff, and a Nintendo and all." He nodded, then fell silent again while flipping through the few channels we could get, looking for something else to watch.
It wasn't long before we both heard mom returning. As the engine turned off, followed by a car door shutting, we heard what sounded like a yell from outside. Cody jumped up quickly and crawled over me again, before rushing out the room and downstairs to the door. Soon he returned with Mom trailing behind him, carrying a large pizza box and what looked to be a couple of movies on top. Mom was also carrying a six-pack of Pepsi's and a roll of paper towels. They entered, with Cody once again crawling back over me (but not quite as physical this time), and settled back into position. He pulled the pizza box up on our laps just as Mom pulled a chair up beside us. Opening the top, Mom began laughing at all the motion the waterbed was making, but seemed pleased when it quickly leveled out and settled down. Tearing us each off a paper towel and handing it over, we all three dived into what was me and Cody's first real meal of the day: a double-topping of cheese, sausage and ham and onions! It was a favorite, as we had both discovered from visits past, and a combination I still love today (although I have graduated to more of the supreme type toppings as of late). I was ravenous, as was Cody, and as we attacked our first slices, they were gone all too quickly. "Slow down you two, save some for me!" Mom laughed, watching us fight for another slice together, both of us reaching for the same one. I think because it seemed to have the most cheese and sausage on it!
Before long, I started getting full around the middle of my fourth slice, and burped - all too loudly by the looks my Mom gave me - before settling down. Soon after Cody stopped as well, and sensing an end to our ravenous attack, Mom took the box from us and finished her share. Closing the lid, she stood up and approached me, handing me some of the pain pills the doctor had sent along. "Here, take these, okay?"
I nodded, taking them as she also sat down and gently probed around my leg and knee, pulling up the sleeve of my sweats to my thigh. "It's pretty dirty in there", she remarked, loosening and pulling back the edge of the brace. She then glanced up at me closer. I was like 'What?', totally lost in her implication, before she spoke again. "Can I leave you two for the night, or do I need to stay here?"
Ahhh... the bridge game. "Nah, go on Mom, I'll be okay. Besides, Cody's here," nodding to my friend who - at that magical moment - decided to let his belch go, although nowhere near as loud as mine had. It made Mom laugh again.
"You two..." she started, but left the sentence unfinished. Standing up, she looked at me. "Listen, try to get a bath or something at least, before you go to bed. You really do look like you haven't had one in a week!" The sad thing was, she was probably right. The last few nights of that week, we had been pretty busy doing some things, and like most kids at that age, I guess, I just didn't bother with a bath probably like I should have. That was the first time I also noticed that, although I didn't really stink (thankfully), I did have some grime here and there. I shrugged, but seeing her expression I quickly amended it by adding, "Okay Mom, I will." Nothing more was said on the matter, but she did turn back and address both of us again. "If you need anything, call me. The number is on the refrigerator downstairs, and I'll take these drinks and put them inside as well so they'll get chilled."
We both nodded and thanked her, and watched as she started to leave the room. She paused at the door, however, looking back. "You want this door opened or closed?"
I considered it for a second before replying. "It's kind of cool in here Mom, so go ahead and close it. I've got the heater on, so it'll help us keep it warmer in here." She nodded in reply, closed it and then went on her way down the steps. I knew she would be leaving soon, and that most likely she would be out till at least midnight - as sometimes those women can get to talking up plenty. Given the fact she had some new stories to tell now, mostly about my daily adventures, I didn't think the evening would be any less than common.
Cody and I just sat there for a bit, before my best friend shifted around, coming back close to me again. When he and my Mom had come upstairs with the food, I noticed he sort of kept a distance between us as he climbed back beside me; but with her now gone, that was not to be worried about any longer. Of note, though, was he now purposefully snuggled up to me, I think, which made me grin. I reached out and grabbed one of those throw blankets I kept nearby, and pulled it over us both, and we stayed that way for a while, watching another show that had come on TV, staying warm, and staying with each other.
Some time went by when he finally sighed and rolled back. "Um, wanna play some Nintendo or something?"
I cracked a big smile. "Bring it on!" I replied, and without any further persuading, he did just that, hopping up (and again making waves to which we both laughed) and setting up the Nintendo with a favorite of his, Mario Kart. He climbed back into the bed, though this time making everything more physical as he crawled over me, but still being careful to avoid my left side. "You kind of like that, don't you?" I asked him, amused.
I remember he stopped. "Um, do you?" he whispered.
"Oh yeah," I answered, and then grabbed and pulled him down on top of me, before rolling him back to his usual place. We both laughed before he adjusted his bean bag again, this time so he could easily prop himself up to see the TV better. Although nothing was on my mind other than him, and us being together, it was reminiscent of another time, years before, where someone had also done similar things. For the second time in my life, I was finding myself enjoying it, and pleased he was feeling the same way.
We both ended up sitting up with little fuss, and started going at it. Before long, we traded for a new game, and then again. It seemed like hours went by, but when I finally started getting tired, I looked at the clock and saw it was 8:45pm. Wow, it had seemed like a lot longer. Still, I was getting stiff and needed to stretch, so I stopped after a bit and just put the controller down. I told him to go ahead and play by himself for a minute if he wanted to, but he looked at me and shook his head. "Nah, I'm getting a little tired of it, too". A minute later, he got up and put everything away.
Coming back to the bedside, he glanced around before looking down at me. "Are you, umm, gonna, like... "
"Hmm?" I wasn't sure what he was asking.
"You know, like your Mom said..." Cody hesitated, then blurted it out. "Are you going to take a bath or something?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot..." The truth was, I hadn't forgotten it. In fact, I was kind of wondering about it while we were playing, trying to figure out how I would do it and all. "Yeah, I guess so..."
I didn't say anything else, and he finally sat down on the rail by me, watching me closely. I could tell he was thinking, almost battling with something inside, but I wasn't exactly sure how this was going down. I certainly had no real inclination of where it was going to go. I mean, at the least, if he could get me into the tub, I could wear my underwear and still clean up pretty decent, you know? In the end though, he took the whole idea in a different direction. "Tell me something, have you like, ever had a bath with anyone or stuff?"
To say I was surprised was an understatement. "Not exactly," I answered, but then told him about Jeremy coming in on me one night when I was little, and what had happened. I didn't hold back, either - I told him everything, although I kind of downplayed it a little. When I finished, Cody made a face and scrunched up his nose, but didn't say anything for a minute. My curiosity was getting the best of me. "Why, have you?"
He shook his head, then after another minute or so, he sighed. Staring at me, a hesitant, kind of pleading sound entered his voice. "Sean, do you trust me?"
Do I trust him? Oh wow, did I ever! How could he not know that? "You know I do," I said, trying to convey it to him as much as I could.
He surprised me though, giggling at whatever my expression was just then. "Yeah, I know that, but ... seriously, I mean do you really, really trust me?" He was watching me intently.
I nodded. "You're my best friend Cody, my very best. Maybe the only real friend I've ever had." I paused before adding, "Okay you, spit it out. What's up? What are you thinking?" I remember almost adding some snide comment, like, you want to go all psycho on me or something, like that man and the shower scene in the Hitchcock movie. I didn't though, because I was waiting. I wanted to see what was up.
Cody smiled again before getting this mischievous look. "You're mine too, Sean. You're my best friend, too." He paused, then went on. "You have to say it, though. You have to tell me, for me to hear it."
I grinned back. "What, that I trust you?" He nodded, so I did it. "Yeah, I really, really trust you Cody. Totally."
Again, Cody laughed, then finally pulled his punch line. "Okay, then if you really, really trust me, well... I think I know how we can do this - " and he looked at me close, " - together."
I knew what he meant then. Well, sort of anyway. I was beginning to like tingle inside with excitement then, and eventually I giggled. "Okay!" I didn't ask for details or anything, because I knew, on the inside, this was a secret thing between us already. There was something else, too, a part of me that was almost wishing for the unthinkable, you know? I didn't know exactly what he had in mind, but I figured finding out was going to be half the fun at least. "I'm game then, if you are," I told him.
Cody then stood and offered me his hand, and I swung out onto the edge of the bed. Hooking an arm around his shoulders again, I then got to my feet. "Okay, you're the boss," I told him, to which he smirked, before starting toward the bedroom door...