Chapter 1
Max Gordon, bouncer of the Good Times bar, gave the scarecrow in front of him the evil eye. The tall, gawky figure wasn't filled out enough to be an adult, but the dark brown eyes seemed to have seen plenty of the world. Max decided to err on the side of caution.
"How old are you, kid?" he asked.
The figure, dressed in ill fitting clothes, shifted from one large foot to the other. "Look…I know I'm not old enough…I'm just trying to find my Dad…I gotta see him.."
Max sized the kid up. He clearly didn't want to be at the Good Times, any more than Max wanted to let him in the place.
"Who's your dad?" Max asked.
"Uh, …Goren…Anthony Goren."
"Tony Goren, uh?" Max said, lighting a cigar. "Last I heard, Tony's kid was in back with him."
The scarecrow winced. "I'm …his other son…Bobby…Look, I just…I'm going in the Army tomorrow…I just need him to sign a form…I'm under eighteen, and I need his signature…"
"Ok, kid…go around to the side…knock and tell Sid Max said you were ok."
"Thanks…I appreciate it." Max ignored the kid's polite response. The bouncer was already sizing up the approaching blonde.
Hunched over, desperately and unsuccessfully trying to hide, Bobby Goren shuffled to the bar's side door. He knocked tentatively.
The door cracked open. "Yeah?" a voice asked.
"Max…up front…said for me to tell Sid I was ok." Bobby slid deeper into his too small jacket. The wind whipped down the alley, and the thin coat offered little protection.
The door opened . "Whatya want?"
"I'm…I'm looking for Anthony Goren…"
"First door on the right."
Bobby stumbled into the dark hall. It smelled of cheap liquor, cheap women, and desperate gamblers. "It smells," he thought, "like my dad…Don't think…just get this over …get his signature and get away."
Bobby pounded on the door. It finally opened to a room full of smoke and noise. A poker game was in progress, and Bobby saw his father seated at the table. Anyone seeing Tony Goren for the first time would have been struck by his dark good looks, by his sleek dark hair and sensuous mouth, but Bobby saw the lines forming at the side of the mouth and eyes, the flesh beginning to hang from the jowls and chin, and the sly, haunted look in the eyes. His father was aging, and in recent months he had been aging fast.
"Hey, it's my baby brother!" Bobby was nearly knocked off his feet by the blow on his back. "Hey, Dad, it's the Brain!"
"Sorry," Bobby mumbled to the woman he had stumbled into. Clearly not used to men who apologized to her, she stared at him. Bobby turned to face his brother. Frank Goren was a younger, slightly taller version of his father, and more muscular, less sensitive version of his brother. He had the arrogance of a star high school athlete, but his body and face were already starting to show the results of too many late nights, too many drinks, too many girls.
"Hey, whatcha doing there, little bro…copping a feel?" Bobby's brother was red faced and leering.
"Oh, hell," Bobby thought. "Frank's drunk…means Dad's probably tight too."
Tony Goren had risen from the table and stumbled over to his sons. "Well, look here…a regular family reunion." He threw one arm over Bobby's shoulder. "Frank and I are just having a little celebration, Bob. Honoring his great game tonight…good you can join us…let's have a drink!"
"No…Dad…remember…I'm leaving for the Army tomorrow…" Bobby tried to slip away from his father's grip.
"All the more reason for a celebration." Bobby's father grinned at him. "C'mon…have a drink…"
"No, Dad…please…I just need you to sign this…"
Bobby's father grabbed a drink off a passing tray. "You drink this…I'll sign that."
"Dad, please…"
"C'mon, Bob…have some fun…or are you too good to drink with your father and brother?" Frank poured a shot down his throat.
Bobby desperately looked around the room, but met only dead eyes. "Ok, ok," he said. "One drink." He handed the form to his father. "But you sign this, ok?"
Bobby's father flattened the form on the table and signed it with a flourish. "My boy's going to serve his country," he announced to the room. "Let's send him off so he'll remember what he's fighting for!"
A chorus of laughter filled the room as Bobby grabbed the form and tucked it inside his jacket. He turned to escape, but his brother blocked the way. Frank waved a finger in his face.
"Uh-uh…gotta have that drink."
Resigned, Bobby took the shot glass from Frank's hand. He threw the liquid down his throat and struggled not to gag as it burned down to his stomach.
"That wasn't a real drink," Frank said. "Here, sip this one…"
"No…I gotta get back…"
Bobby's father leaned on him. "Aw, c'mon, Bob…last time your old man will see you for a while…"
Bobby looked around the room again, but found no help. "All right…" he whispered.
One drink became another, and another. The room spun, and Bobby found himself jammed in the back of a taxi between his father and brother.
"Where…" Bobby slurred, "are we…"
"Special place, Bob…going to give you a good time." His father punched him in the arm. Bobby winced.
"Yea, need to send you off as a man to the Army." Frank leered at him. "Pretty pathetic, isn't it, Dad? I always get my own girls. They've been after me since I was thirteen, but the Brain here can't get them interested."
"'Bout time we made a man out of him," Tony Goren laughed.
Bobby felt sick as he realized what their destination was.
"No," he mumbled. "I…please…I …Mom probably needs me…"
"Forget about your Mom for once!" Bobby's father yelled.
"Hey, Dad, maybe he's queer or something," Frank laughed.
The cab screeched to a stop. Bobby's father fell out and shoved a few bills at the driver. Frank grabbed Bobby's arm and dragged him out of the cab.
"C'mon, freak…what are you? Ya gotta start sometime…or are you a fag?"
Bobby suddenly found himself lying on the sidewalk, the right side of his face stunned with pain. His father, waving his arms, stood over him.
"Get up, you mama's boy…be a man!"
Bobby staggered to his feet. His father and brother half shoved, half carried him into the building. He fell into a chair, and his companions disappeared. Bobby shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Run…get out of here," he thought, and he rose. Before he could move, a woman stood in front of him.
"C'mon, kid. Time is money," she said.
Bobby stared behind her at his leering father and brother. Resigned, Bobby lowered his head and followed the woman up the stairs. His father and brother's laughter haunted him as he climbed. The woman stopped and unlocked a door.
The room was barely lit. The woman flicked on a lamp at the side of the bed. She turned to look at Bobby, who was standing with his back against the door.
"There's a bathroom in there," she said nodding towards a door. "You wanta take your clothes off in there?"
"I …I don't know…" Bobby said softly.
The woman studied him. "How old are you?" she finally asked.
"Sixteen." Bobby replied staring down at his shoes.
The woman's voice grew slightly warmer. "First time?"
Bobby, ashamed and frightened, nodded.
The woman sighed. "All right…you go in there and take off as much as you're comfortable with…and I'll be here in the bed waiting for you, ok?"
Bobby stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. A bruise was forming on his right cheek where his father had hit him. "Another," he thought, "in the collection." He washed his face, and then stripped down to his boxers. He stared again into the mirror. The alcohol had started to wear off, but his vision was still blurry around the edges. The bathroom was clean, but shabby and cold, with paint beginning to peal from the edges of the wall and ceiling.
"I didn't want my first time to be like this," Bobby thought. "I wanted it to be with someone…at least someone I knew…I liked." His erection strained at his boxers. "Damn," Bobby thought, "some of that stuff I've read is right…stupid thing has a mind of its own…"
Bobby entered the bedroom. The light was dim again, and he could just make out the woman's form beneath the sheets. He walked over and stared down at her.
"Ready, kid?" she asked. Her tone was business like.
Bobby hesitated. "Could I…could I at least know your name?" he asked.
"What name do you want me to have?"
Bobby sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Never mind," he whispered. He shed his boxers and slipped in next to the woman.
Bobby tried to remember what he had read in books. He kissed the woman's face, awkwardly slid his tongue into her mouth. He ran his hands over her breasts, hesitating to hold them. They felt soft and full in his hands.
Bobby stopped for a moment and looked up at the woman's face.
"Please," he said, "can I talk to you?"
"It's paid for, kid. You can do what you want."
Bobby winced. "It's just that…am I doing this right? Is it ok for you?"
For the second time the woman studied him. "Yea, honey…you're doing fine." She paused for a moment. "Just …don't be in a hurry…take your time…and don't be rough."
Bobby let his hands skim over her breasts, his long fingers gently stroking the nipples. "You're….so soft…everything is so round and soft…" he whispered.
The woman reached up to brush the hair out of Bobby's eyes. "My name is Angela."
"I'm…Bobby."
"Ok, Bobby…you just keep doing what you're doing."
"It's ok if I keep touching…and tasting…"
"Yea…I'll let you know if you do something wrong. And here…"
Angela reached beneath the pillow. "Let me put this on you…"
Bobby watched as her hands slipped down to touch him. "Oh," he cried as they slipped the condom on. Her hands were warm, unbelievably warm and soft.
"C'mon, kid, get inside me. You're not going to last too long." She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and Bobby found himself pulled inside her. He tried to pace himself, but his body concentrated on one point. The world flashed red and white, and Bobby exploded. He heard a shout that sounded like his own voice.
Bobby came back to himself. His head was resting on Angela's breast; she was gently stroking his curls. He raised his body on shaky arms and looked at her.
"What…what…do I…we…do now?" he whispered.
She kissed him on the forehead and hugged him. Bobby awkwardly and cautiously slipped his arms around her.
"I'm…sorry….that…it…didn't last very long…I…" Bobby stuttered.
"It's ok…you'll get better…and you've got some nice natural advantages." She smiled.
Bobby reddened.
Angela smiled at him. "Don't be ashamed, kid." She sat up and swung out of bed. Bobby watched as she dressed.
"Do you have to go…" he said.
"Yea…gotta schedule, kid." Angela slipped her dress over her head and looked down at him. "You're a nice kid…those jerks you're with…don't let them spoil or twist you, ok?"
"Ok," Bobby said, and watched as she walked out the door.
Bobby rose from the bed and moved to the bathroom. He cleaned up, dressed, and stared at his face in the mirror. Aside from the deepening bruise, it was the same face that had stared at him a half an hour before, but Bobby felt as if he didn't quite recognize it. After a few minutes, Bobby left the room and descended the stairs.
His father and brother were waiting for him. Bobby tried to ignore their comments and questions. He really didn't want to know what they had been doing, although he had a pretty good idea. They hailed a taxi, and Bobby, now considerably more sober than his father or brother, managed to get in the front seat next to the driver. He gave the driver his address and spent the ride trying to ignore the pair in the back. The cab pulled up in front of the building where Bobby shared an apartment with his mother.
"Bob!" His father shouted from the back seat. "You're not stopping the party now?"
"Yea, Brain…c'mon…tell us about the whore!" his brother called.
Bobby gave the cab driver the address of the Good Times bar. "The older guy has a wad of cash in a money belt at his back," he whispered to the driver. "Give yourself a good tip."
The driver nodded, and the cab drove away with Bobby's father and brother wildly waving in the back seat. Bobby, shivering, stood in front of the building. He wrapped his arms around him and stared into the sky. Soft snowflakes began to fall around him, and Bobby could see the sky begin to lighten. A light was on in the apartment's window, and Bobby could see his mother's silhouette pacing back and forth in front of it.
"A man," he thought. "I think I've always been a man. And tonight had nothing to do with it."
End Chapter 1
