"I have to pee, Eddie, please I have to pee!" This time Ile just kept fucking me.
"Go ahead," he said, and his thrusts became more violent. I felt like I was going to, but I couldn't. And after a few minutes more, I tried, but nothing would come out. I wanted to piss all over his blanket, into his pillow, and onto the floor. I wanted to stink his room so badly that the smell would never leave, but nothing would come out. He let out a groan, and I felt him get larger inside of me, and then he collapsed. I felt his breathing in my ear, his breath on my face, and his heart beating against any back. My shirt was soaked, as was my hair, face, legs, and hands, but I still couldn't pee.
He offered to suck me off, but I said no. I just wanted out. I wanted to throw up, but there was nothing left. I didn't know how to stop this nightmare of a movie. How could I change the channels on a program I no longer wanted to see? The Eagles' "Hotel California" was playing quietly on the radio.
When I came out of Eddie's room, a tall white guy with black hair and thick black glasses was moving quickly toward me. He had something in his hand that glittered as the light bounced off of it. Chet and Slide Step were blocking his way, but he kept staring at me, trying to get around them. Chet and Slide Step were saying to him, "He's just a kid!"
Eddie pushed me back inside the room and closed the door. There was more screaming and arguing outside the door. Eddie turned and told me to hide under the bed.
"No!" I said. "I'm not going back there."
"Just go!" He screamed. There was a look of terror in his eyes. I didn't care. I wasn't going back under that bed. He kicked the chair from the desk and told me to sit down, opening his locker to hide me from view. The shouting in the hall intensified.
"Here comes the PO-lice," he said. "Just be cool. Just be cool."
My heart was racing. "What was in that guy's hand" I asked. He looked like he wanted to kill me.
"Don't worry about it," Eddie whispered, his back to me as lie looked out the window of his door. "Slide Step's taking care of it. You just be cool for a few minutes. You don't want to end up in the hole."
The arguing quieted down. There were still several voices, but the yelling stopped.
"Wait here!" he said. He stepped out, closing the door behind him.
I sat there shaking. What the fuck had just happened? Why would I go to the Hole? I didn't do anything. I couldn't even fucking pee. There was a wastebasket next to the desk. I bent over and dry heaved into it. There was nothing left.
I learned later on that the guy coming down the hall was Eddie's punk. He was angry that I was having sex with his man. He had taped razor blades beteen each of his fingers and was coming to slice me up.
"I'll fix that little pretty boy," he said, "She'll know not to mess with my man."
"Call it," Chet said, as he flipped the pink token in the air. Red and Slide Step were standing on each side of him. We were back in the north side card room. I didn't know how much time had passed, or how long I'd been sitting there, but it was later on that same day.
"Heads," Red bellowed.
Slide Step was silent.
Chet caught the coin and flipped in onto his arm.
"Tails!"
Chet nodded to both of them and came over to me. I was sitting in the same chair as before. I had vague recollections of being led there from Eddie's room. And these were the last people in the world I wanted to be with. The spins had stopped, but my head was pounding, and my face was still numb. It was like watching a Godzilla movie where the voices were out of synch. There seemed to be a delay from when Chet said something, and when I heard him say it.
"It's settled then," Chet announced. "From now on, you belong to Slide Step."
Red walked behind him and out of the room. Even with the dullness in my brain, I could tell he was angry. Slide Step took his seat against the wall and put his legs up on a chair. I looked over at him. He crossed his arms, gave me a gentle smile and looked out into the day room.
14
Slide Step's Squeeze
Sacred Heart Church. It was Ricky's Confirmation. I didn't understand the ceremony, but I was looking forward to having waffles for dinner. At seven years old, I hated church. It was long and boring, and I hated all the kneeling and standing and sitting and kneeling. The best part was afterward, when we went for a donut across the street. Eclairs were my favorite, with their dark chocolate frosting and vanilla creme custard on the inside.
Mom couldn't make Ricky's Confirmation. She was working afternoons, but would meet us at the Egg & I restaurant afterward, which is how I was having waffles for dinner. It was weirdgoing to church on a school night.
On the way from the service, Dad and Sharon talked about my mom. They were angry with her for missing the service and didn't think she should go to dinner since she hadn'tgone to mass. "Well I'm not paying for her dinner," Dad said, as he gazed out the window of our car, "even if'she is flat broke. " Sharon said, "I don't think you should."
When we arrived at the restaurant, she was waiting inside. I ran to her and gave her a big hug. She squeezed me tight, and there were tears in her eyes. I cried too. I always did whenever she did,
