[1979]
"Jeffrey."
We didn't hear that.
"Jeffrey!"
We didn't hear that either.
Jeff opened his eyes for a moment, his lips still brushing mine. He didn't withdraw, and then he closed them again like he hadn't heard a thing. One of his hands rested on my leg, the other somewhere to my left drifting along between my waist and shoulder blade. My hand (left), for the record stroked his neck while the other (right) arrested somewhat the movement of his from too far up my leg. We were joined at the mouth.
"Jeffrey!?"
Uh-oh, that one sounded a little strained. It was a wonder we could hear at all. We were in our own little world, which excluded the adult and parental outright. Jeff attempted to part my lips with his tongue. I had to grab his hand again, it was on the dangerous threshold of above the knee and under the skirt.
"Jefffrreeeyy"
The voice split and seemed to crumble. I heard it concede a certain defeat and mumble something unintelligible. Jeff withdrew completely and I pulled my skirt back over my knees. I wasn't sure but it sounded like his mother was on the verge of something akin to tears. I touched my lips with my hand and stood up. Jeff clasped my hand.
"I think your mum's upset." I said, and he nodded...
+++
Some of the crueler among the army brats had dubbed Mrs Spender, Mama Cass. I just got the impression she was under some sort of pressure, something she couldn't talk about. Jeffrey said she cried sometimes. I'd been invited to dinner once and she had just stopped in the middle of talking to me, whilst serving the peas and carrots, like she wasn't even there. Jeff says his mom can see things sometimes. Maybe she saw something then because she dropped the serving spoon and sat back down. Jeff pushed back on his seat and went to her. He said soft, calm things. Real nice. I swear she started crying but without any tears. Jeff had to take her to bed - we fed ourselves. The rest of the evening was spent washing the dishes and watching tv as we weren't sure whether we were allowed to touch or kiss each other yet. We were still just friends. Jeff came over to visit while my mom taught me isometric exercises and gymnastics. We had taught Jeff how to use the rings a little, but we were gearing up to get him on the horse. In return, he taught me and my mom some judo he'd learnt off Kennedy Hutchinson's dad. On April Air base everybody's kid knew everyone else's kids. It was a given. Just yesterday Jeff had secretly told me he had a half sister. She came to the base sometimes to visit. Her name was Samantha.
I had borrowed one of Steven Dawson's comic books and was reading it instead of watching tv. There was a growing contention amongst us kids, as to whether the X-Men could kick the Incredible Hulk's butt; I voted X-Men, Steve said Hulk, the rest were undecided (although, Andy Ford had a tendency to bring Star Wars into everything, which pretty much left everyone fighting amongst themselves). In this particular issue, the X-Men were fighting the alien Shiar Imperial Guard for the life of Jean Grey. Miss Grey, had been over taken by a powerful intergalactic entity known as the Phoenix and corrupted by its infinite power she had destroyed an entire solar system. X-Men leader, Cyclops, was so in love with Jean that he had agreed to fight for her life (on the moon of all places), but sadly, Jean knew the power and evil of Phoenix - and was slowly being subsumed by it. And as she slowly succumbed, the X-Men were falling like flies against the alien Guard. Engrossed, I kept reading. Who would win? The mutants or the aliens?
Jeff had gone to check on his mother - she had been asleep for two hours now - when he re-entered the room he sat next to me on the couch and scoffed, both at me reading the comic and the Incredible Hulk on the tv set. Vaguely aware of his mocking I spoke:
"Do you think the X-Men could kick Hulk's butt?" Lazily I coiled my hair around my fingers without really looking at him.
Jeff, the soul of all practicality and stoicism answered:
"Bruce Lee could kick all their butts."
I pondered this for a minute.
"Doesn't count, Bruce Lee's dead."
"Yeah, and Hulk and X-Men don't exist."
I simply smiled wryly, he wasn't in the mood for hypothetical fight-outs.
"Is your mom ok?"
He ran a hand through his hair.
"She's sleeping, but I think she's good. I'm sorry about...earlier. She's..."
I closed my hand around his and our fingers entangled, resting on his thigh..
"It's ok, I understand." I said, because I did. I really did. I looked at Mrs. Spender and I saw Jean Grey.
At least she wasn't like Billy and Emelia Sherringham's mother, who drank wine and spoke in long indecent slurs if you caught her off guard. Cassandra seemed like a nice enough woman, just a little lost. At least she didn't scare the hell out of me like...
"Jeffrey!"
Jeffrey's dad.
He entered the house through the back door and seemed a little irritated. He had a long coat on and a suit underneath, he looked kind of grey and dusted. As ever, there was a lighted cigarette between his index and forefinger. (We used to laugh about putting superglue on his Morleys or sprinkling them with sneezing powder, but as always when it came down to it - at least where he was concerned - we chickened out big time). Nobody particularly like Jeff's dad - Mr. C.G.B Spender, sir! Nobody could quite tell why. He could be short but he wasn't rude or anything. He just projected something quietly dark. Jeffrey immediately stood up from the sofa - ramrod straight. I placed my discarded hand on my lap and tried not to look as guilty as I felt. I was only 15 and Jeff was one year older, but I knew I didn't like being scared or intimidated. I was also starting to have a serious contempt for Mr. Spender. My knees were tempted to rock. I quickly remembered the comic book and put it on my lap, clasping it and my knees to stop them shaking.
"Where's your mother?", the smoking man asked just a little too sharply.
Jeff had his hands by his sides, like he was bracing against something, I merely felt like the sixth wheel.
"She's sleeping, sir, she had a headache. I could wake her-"
Jeff had to address his dad as 'sir', we didn't ridicule him for it because we did exactly the same thing. The very same damn thing. His father suddenly noticed, Jeffrey was not alone. His demeanour changed without so much as a blink when he observed me on the sofa, as I trembled a little despite myself. The last thing I wanted to do was to get Jeff into trouble.
Putting the cigarette to his lips, the man inhaled and exhaled lightly, the beginnings of a smile played his lips. I inwardly winced, *that* was creepy!
"Well, Jeffrey, I didn't realise that you had company."
And he said this last word with an insinuation I didn't quite like. Not that he was being threatening or lewd or even condescending, but the way he said it made me want to punch him on the nose and run away screaming. It was like the room temperature had dropped the minute he'd arrived.
I actually surprised my self by getting up politely and smiling.
"I'm sorry, sir, Mrs. Spender invited me over for dinner. My mom said I could stay until seven."
I looked wildly for a clock. The grandfather in the corner read five past the hour of seven.
The man exhaled again and noted the time.
"So it is." he smiled.
Surely his face was going to crack if he kept up this jovality. Then he surprised me again by saying.
"I'll just have a word with my son and I can drive you back to your mother's."
I simply nodded and said, "Thank-you, sir.", as he excused himself and Jeffrey to another room.
I stood alone in the living room, figeted for a moment, then looked out the window.
There was a car out there - it was Mr Spender's - only he had a driver. We all figured he must be the big boss to consistently have a driver and move around with such awe-inspiring audacity and power. There didn't seem to be any area of military life that Mr Spender didn't move in. The driver was touching his had to his ear, like he had a radio in it or something. Probably did. I turned around suddenly as I heard someone re-enter to room, it was Mr. Spender, Jeffrey was not with him. He smiled again.
"Jeffrey's seeing to his mother. I'm sorry that he cannot say goodbye to you himself."
"That's all right." I said, with the distinct feeling that it was far from all right
"Perhaps, I ought to get you home to your mother."
I thanked him again and said "Goodbye Jeffrey" to an empty hallway.
I said nothing in the car, simply stared out the window while Mr Spender talked discretely to his spooky driver. I watched the lights of the base roll by and overhead somewhere the roar of a jet. I stared at the cover of the comic on my lap and then looked up noticing suddenly with a shock that Mr Spender had been watching me in the rear view mirror. He blew spoke out the open passenger window and I felt an overwhelming relief when the car finally pulled up outside my the place I called home. I saw my mother on the verandah. I opened the car door, said thanks again and fled for my life.
My mother met me by the front door. I tried to explain the escort home but it came out rather plainly as:
"Mr Spender brought me home."
I looked back at the car and grimaced. He was getting out. My mom said:
"Honey, maybe you should go inside, I'll talk to you later."
I nodded and fled. Except I dallied for a moment just inside the door. They were talking. He leaning against the verandah post and my mother was standing, perfectly poised, perfectly polite. She smoothed a hand over her dark chestnut hair - like mine - and laughed a little nervously. I could see he was smiling at her. Enough of this, it was giving me the heebie jeebies. I went to my room and curled on the bed reading the rest of my comic book.
Jean was turning into Phoenix again. Scott had her in his arms and was begging her to hang on to herself. But Jean knew the battle tide was turning. On the dark side of the moon she felt herself changing - into Phoenix and then to Dark Phoenix. She could destroy the earth in an afterthought. She pulled away from Cyclops and ran into the path of a laser cannon. It fired. Throwing her forward with its blast. She had time to vainly scream her lover's name, while he vainly screamed hers. Too late. Her chest erupted into carbonized atoms and she died in the airless void of our solitary moon.
I think Cyclops cried. I know I did. I listened to my mother and Jeffrey's father laugh on the verandah and I wondered how the universe could be so cruel...
+++
I snapped back to reality. Straightening my clothes. I gave Jeff a kiss.
"See you tomorrow." I said.
He smiled gently and went to find his mother.
***