haven’t changed yet, probably. “What’s your name?”
“Tiffany,” Brad replied, as per usual doing the talking. “What’s yours?”
“Chuck,” the guy answered, trying to act all cool.
“Wanna fuck, Chuck?” asked Tiffany.
“How old are you?”
“16.”
“Sweet,” Chuck said, laughing at his own joke. “I’m 25.”
To which Brad was all like, “Perfect…I love older guys.”
Meanwhile, Max and I had our ears up to the phone, trying desperately to hear what Chuck was saying and not pee our pants. We were totally cracking up!
“What’re you wearing?” Chuck asked next.
“Just my bra and panties,” Brad lied, suppressing a giggle himself.
“Hot…You’re totally giving me a hard-on, you know that?”
“Wish I could suck it,” said Tiffany the Total Slut.
At which point, Max’s Mom appeared through the back door, home from a hard day’s work at Farmer Jack’s…
“What are you boys up to?” She plopped a brown paper bag of groceries down on the kitchen table.
“Nothing,” Max said lickety-split. Then he grabbed the phone out of Brad’s hand and returned it to the cradle on the wall. “What’s for dinner?”
“I’m thinking about ordering a pizza from Randazzo’s,” Max’s Mom informed us. Which is the best pizza in all of Hazeltucky. “How’s that sound?” She kinda reminds me of Annette Funicello. Skippy peanut butter Annette. Not M-I-C-K-E-Y.
In between wolfing down several slices of pepperoni, Brad and I struck up a conversation with Max’s sister, Maggie. She’s a Senior at Hillbilly High and kinda reminds me of that actress from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Phoebe Cates.
Maggie proceeded to tell us all about how much she hates this Freshman girl we know from Webb, Kylee Belestergaard. Something about her being a Ho-Bag and giving Maggie’s ex-boyfriend a blowjob in the Hillbilly High parking lot after the Friday night Varsity Football game. I guess Max didn’t appreciate it when Brad and I followed Maggie into her bedroom after dinner. Because pretty soon he was standing outside her door, screaming his head off.
“Mom! Tell Maggie to leave my friends alone.”
“Mom!” Phoebe Cates screamed back. “Tell Max to get off my case.”
“Ma-a-a-x,” Annette Funicello said calmly from the French Room where she sat watching Joan Collins and Linda Evans duke it out on Dynasty.
“Why do you have to be such a pain in the ass?” Max retorted.
“Your friends are the ones talking to me,” Phoebe Cates informed him. Which was true. Brad and I couldn’t help it we thought Max’s sister was totally cool. Then she added, “I can’t help it if they think I’m cooler than you.”
We glanced over at Max. His face was totally turning red. He looked like he was gonna cry at any minute. “Fuck off!” he shouted. Causing my and Brad’s jaws to drop to the floor.
“What did you say, young man?” Annette Funicello was now up on her feet and in the hall intercepting Max and his sister as they were about to get into a knockdown-drag-out fight. Which was totally hilarious. Max’s Mom can’t be more than 5' tall and both her kids are at least 5'5".
“Max?” she said. This time using her “mean” voice. “Tell your sister you’re sorry…Now.”
Brad and I stared down at the pink and baby blue afghan folded across the end of Maggie’s bed. Which is where we’d been sitting the entire time. I wanted to make myself disappear. Only there was nowhere to go. Maybe staying over Max’s house while my parents were in Las Vega$ wasn’t such a good idea after all!
Suddenly, Max shouted, “I’m sorry for telling my stupid sister to fuck off!”
“What did you say?” Annette Funicello asked for the second time in less than five minutes.
“I’m sorry for telling my stupid sister to fuck off!” Max repeated. This time through tears. As if saying it once wasn’t already enough.
To which Max’s Mom had no idea what to say. So instead, she cracked up laughing. So did Max. Even Brad and I started laughing, too. Though Maggie didn’t find it funny. She just rolled her eyes and stood there, hands on her hips, in what we had recently learned during Ms. Lemieux’s 6th hour Enriched English is called “akimbo.”
“Now go to your room,” Annette Funicello said, serious as all get-out.
“But—” Max tried to protest.
“I mean it…You’re grounded.”
“What about Jackie?” Max knew I was staying for at least two more days.
“I don’t care if Jackie’s here or not,” Max’s Mom informed him. “He and Brad can play together without you for all I care.”
Which is exactly what we did…By the end of my weeklong visit, Brad and I had officially become Best Friends. Which was just about the time our teacher, Jessica Clark Putnam, called us into her office after 2nd hour Varsity Band and closed the door behind us…
I remember it was her birthday that day—May 7th. Somebody said she was turning 30. But I couldn’t believe it. She didn’t look that old. Our Band Aide, Freddy Edwards, brought in a cake his Mom baked especially for the occasion. Freddy’s a 9th grade sax player in 1st hour Symphonic. Which is the top band at Webb. And of course, all the girls think he’s a Total Babe.
Personally, I don’t get what’s so hot about him. So he’s got pretty blue eyes and a nice smile and good hair…Big deal! And so what if he wears cool clothes and he’s on the wrestling team. So he’s got a nice body. Not that I judge other guys, ’cause I don’t.
“Have either of you ever heard about Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp?” Mrs. Putnam asked us.
Brad and I looked at each other, having no idea what she was talking about. But from the expression of pure delight on her face, it must have been someplace special.
“Nestled in the beautiful Manistee National Forest in Michigan’s western lower peninsula, Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp is a Summer Music Camp with Dance, Theater, and Art programs for talented young people who come from all parts of the United States and all walks of life.” At least according to the brochure JCP gave us. Which Brad and I both read at least a hundred times.
Which brings me full circle to…“Friends hold you back.”
Jessica Clark Putnam smiles, a twinkle in her chestnut-brown eyes as she and I continue standing alone together in the instrument storage room. “Tell you what…If Bradley’s somehow able to come up with the money, then will you go?”
“Of course.” But how the heck is that gonna happen? Brad’s family is so broke, he can barely afford to pay attention!
Sure enough, a week later Mrs. Putnam receives an anonymous donation for $150 for Bradley Dayton. Thus enabling him and me to spend the two longest weeks of our lives at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp.
Along with all the other Band Fags!
WEBB LEGEND
—1983—
Jack,
to my Best Friend. Hope you have better luck with the girls next year. Ha ha.
Your friend, Brad
“88”
Jack,