Erich - Six

Erich

 

            Showers were as bad as the first time, though, for whatever reason, Gabe finally joined us. I can’t figure out why he skipped out last time. Just shy, I guess.

            Group showers are pretty common back home, but the feeling of being sized up by a new group never gets less awkward. Not that I don’t measure up (literally), but I’ve got some serious competition from these guys, if you know what I mean.

             Anyway, after showers none of us felt like going to Biology, so we decided to cut class and the four of us headed back to the room for a shave. Jim, who had obviously come here under the least difficult circumstances, was the only one who had brought a kit, but we didn’t really have a choice. We were starting to look like pretty rough.

            The four of us crowded around Jim’s mirror and lathered up. “F**k, we’ve got to get some provisions if we’re gonna keep living like this,” Jim complained. “I mean, Jesus! Did you guys pack anything?”

            “Piss off, Banhart,” Hersch said, passing a razor to Gabe “You think you could survive at this school without us? Under Knight and the Wankers’ watch?”

             “Yeah, right,” Jim said, swiping violently at his cheek with the razor. “I think I can handle myself,” he said sarcastically. “I saved all our asses from Knight when he came in for inspection, didn’t I?”

            “You used your brains for that,” I pointed out, “the Wankers aren’t about to challenge us to a game of chess.”

            Jim puffed himself up. “Please. I could take those guys blindfolded.”

            We burst out laughing and the razor slipped out of Gabe’s hand and sliced his jaw. “Bleeding Christ!” he said angrily, pressing his palm to the cut. It was the first word he had said in an hour.

            “Ha! He’s broken his vow of silence,” Hersch snorted, still winded from laughing at Jim.

            “Hey, shut it, Abrahamson!”

            “He’s right,” I laughed, falling backwards onto the chair. “You’re a mute virgin! You’re a monk!”

            Hersch yanked on the string of beads around Gabe’s neck, revealing the rosary that had been hidden under his shirt. How Hersch knew they were there I had no idea. “He’s not a monk, he’s Catholic!”

            “No s**t. Then he’s a priest. Same thing,” Jim hooted.

            “Yeah,” Gabe grumbled as he toweled off his face, “we’ll just see.”

He threw the bloodied towel in my face sullenly. I jumped back and exaggeratedly tossed it to the ground. “Hey, I don’t want your virgin blood all over me.”

“Piss off!”

Jim covered his mouth in mock horror. “That is offensive! Give me a hundred Hail Marys!” he cried, grabbing the crucifix on the rosary.

            “Hey, put that thing away,” I said, “you might offend the Jew.”

            “What the hell do I care if he has a damn rosary? I was the one who knew it was there. I’m not f*****g blind.”

            “Well there’s a surprise,” Jim snickered, grabbing Hersch’s glasses off the table and putting them on. “You know wanking causes blindness. You ought to be blind as a bat by now!”

            “That’s why he’s the only one with specs!”

            Hersch grabbed his glasses off Jim’s head and laughed. “Hey I don’t need that stuff. I got a girl, remember?’

            “Yeah, a girl who’s a million miles away,” I laughed, lighting a cig. “You ought to be letting it out in the shower like a normal guy.”

            “I would, but you fuckers are there!”

            We all hooted at that. The four of us pushed each other around like that for the rest of the night, and walked into dinner winded from laughing.

            The West Block Wankers glared at us from across the room. I was starting to get worried. They hadn’t given us any trouble since Friday, and to me that was a very bad sign.

            “I don’t like this, guys,” I said, keeping an eye on the Wankers and biting into my cabbage. “They’re up to something.”

            “Aw, relax, Amery,” Jim said smugly. “We already proved we could take them.”

            “Actually, I think we proved we could run away from them,” Hersch pointed out.

            “And distract them with cigarettes,” I added with a mouth full of food.    

            “True,” Gabe said, pointing at us with his fork. “But just look at them,” he turned around to emphasize his point, “They’re scared stiff.”

            “They’re not the only ones who are stiff,” Jim complained. “I’ve got to wash my f*****g sheets. If we don’t get some girls here fast I’ll kill myself.”

            Hersch looked at him disgustedly. “Thank you so much for sharing that with us. But you had your chance, Banhart. How well did that go?”

            “A fluke.”

            “Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” I snorted.

            “You just wait,” Jim grumbled, “as soon as we get out of this shithole I’ll show you.”

            “Oh he’ll show us,” Hersch laughed, “now I see why you couldn’t get girls!”

            He scowled. “F**k you.”

            I smirked. “I’d rather not.”

            “So that Economics essay…” Gabe jumped in, changing the subject abruptly. We spent the rest of the evening with our schoolwork and hooch until we were falling asleep in our chairs and had to fumble into bed.

            I was all pumped up from my last cig and decided to just wait it out until I could fall asleep. It had been a long day, and as I lay there in the dark, I thought about how odd it was to be a part of what might be actual friendships. I hadn’t had time for friends in years, not with my father pushing me to be the very best soldier I could be. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but those boys I had initially hated were actually growing on me.

            I could tell everyone else was asleep already, and I was beginning to feel myself slipping off too. I was just getting comfortable when a noise made me bolt up in bed.

            It wasn’t a normal sound, and I had heard just about every sound imaginable in my years of rooming with other guys. It came from the bunk below me, from Gabe. He was obviously asleep, but it almost sounded like he was crying.

            It took me a minute to realize he was mumbling miserably in Italian. I couldn’t understand a word he said until he broke into English for just a few seconds.

            “Leo… Leo, don’t go. This isn’t my fault. I need you to stay. I need you.”

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Conversation of boys alone in a room can lead to interesting conversations. I like the way you make the story come alive with normal emotion and desire in this story. Left the reader with a wide open ending. Thank you for the excellent chapter.
Coyote