Traplines (11 page)

Tom flipped the page.

“ ‘Yes, Jeremy’,” Jeremy said in a high, squeaky voice. “ ‘I still hate your guts.’ ” Jeremy sat on the bed. In his normal voice he continued, “What if I asked you if you wanted to go for a ride?” He stood up. “ ‘Well, I don’t know. I’d have to ask my mom.’ ”

“Go away,” Tom said, turning so Jeremy wouldn’t see his face.

“It speaks!”

Tom clenched his mouth shut.

“ ‘I’ve finished all my homework and I don’t have a thing to do, Jeremy.’ ” Jeremy punched Tom’s leg. “Well, let’s go then.”

Tom put his fingers in his ears.

“It’s been a whole hour since you talked to me,” Jeremy said sadly. “If you don’t say something soon, I’m going to just die.”

“Get lost,” Tom said.

“Well. Happy birthday, kid.” Then, casually, “I got you a present. Curious?”

“No.” Tom flipped a page.

“It’s bigger than a bread box.”

Tom slammed the book shut. He glared at Jeremy and moved to get off the bed. Jeremy, laughing, grabbed his arms and pushed him down.

“Let go!” Tom said, struggling.

“Hah! It speaks again!” Jeremy straddled Tom’s chest, pinning him to the bed. “And if it knows what’s good for it, it will keep speaking!”

“Get off me!”

Jeremy hummed and pretended to clean his nails.

Tom bucked, kicked, even tried to bite. Jeremy yawned. “Ready to talk?”

“If you don’t get off me now—”

“You’ll do what?” Jeremy said, not moving. “Run and tell Mommy?” Jeremy reached over and picked up the book.
“Temporal Lobe Epilepsy, Mania, Schizophrenia, and the Limbic System
. Some light reading, huh? Jesus, don’t you ever read anything normal? Ever heard of Stephen King?”

Tom stopped struggling. “What do you want?”

Jeremy smiled. “That’s more like it. Let’s see. Well, first, do you want to go for a ride?”

“No.”

“Meep
. Wrong answer,” Jeremy reached down and pulled Tom’s shirt up.

“What’re you doing?”

“Let’s try that again. Do you want to go for a ride?”

“No!”

“Meep
. Wrong again. Last chance.” Jeremy poked Tom hard in the side. Tom wriggled. Jeremy rubbed his hands together, chuckling. “Oh goody. Ticklish. Perfect. Now, are we going for a ride?”

Tom wrenched an arm free. He hit Jeremy, who grunted and fell back. Tom rolled, twisting loose only to be caught and pushed back onto the bed again, this time on his stomach. Jeremy leaned close and whispered,
“Meep
. Wrong again. You lose, bozo.”

No one had ever tickled Tom before. Jeremy was ruthless. When Jeremy finished with him, his ribs felt bruised and he was panting heavily, almost crying.

“Let’s try that one more time,” Jeremy said brightly. “Does Tommy want to go for a ride?”

Tom rested, trying to catch his breath.

Jeremy lightly touched Tom’s side.

“Yes!” he said quickly. “Yes!”

“That’s more like it! Now, does Tommy forgive Jeremy for everything? Hmmm?”

“Yes.”

“Tommy’s not going to sulk anymore, is he?”

“No.”

“Is Tommy sure?” Jeremy squeezed Tom’s ribs.

“Yes. Don’t, Jeremy. Please.”

“Pretty please?”

Tom gritted his teeth. “Pretty please.”

“I get the feeling that you aren’t being sincere,” Jeremy
said gravely. “If you are really, sincerely sorry for being such a pain in the butt, I think you’ll want to prove it, won’t you, Tommy?”

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Jeremy bounced on him. “You awake?”

“Goddamn—”

Jeremy started tickling him again, shouting, “Say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Say it! Say it or I won’t stop!”

Desperate, Tom shouted, “Mom!” but it didn’t come out very loud. He couldn’t catch his breath. Jeremy stopped for a moment.

Tom said, “Super. Cali. Expe. Fragi …” Fuck, he thought, what comes next? “Lista. Dextro—”

“All of it,” Jeremy said, touching Tom’s sides. “The word, whole word, and nothing but the word. No cheating!”

“I can’t remember it! Please, Jere—”

Jeremy hooted and let Tom up. He was laughing as Tom tucked his shirt back into his pants. Tom stood and made toward the door.

“
Meep
,” Jeremy said. “Wrong move. Get back here.”

Tom froze, fists clenched by his sides.

“Get back here, Tommy.”

“What do you want?” he said, not turning around.

“Come on. That’s it. Be good. Sit.”

Tom sat stiffly on Jeremy’s bed. Jeremy sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulder. Tom shrugged it off.

“
Meep
,” Jeremy said. He put his arm over Tom’s shoulder again and this time Tom did nothing. “Come on, relax.
As long as you’re good, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Now. Are we going to be good?”

Tom nodded miserably.

“Get your dancing shoes on, then, we’re going riding!” Jeremy jumped up, pulling Tom with him. “I’m taking birthday boy out for a ride,” he said as they strolled past the living room.

“Have a good time,” his mother said. “Don’t stay out too late.”

Tom opened his mouth to yell for help, but Jeremy pushed him ahead. In the parking lot, Tom broke away from him and ran. Jeremy caught him and hissed,
“Meep.”

“You can’t do this,” Tom said, as Jeremy twisted one arm up behind his back. “This is kidnapping.”

“Meep
-badda-
meep-meep
,” Jeremy sang.
“Meep-meep.”

“Goddamn you.”

Jeremy laughed. He swept the car door open for Tom. “Sit,” he said. Tom sat. Jeremy slammed the door shut and got in on the other side. “No tricky getting out of moving cars, no sneaky jumping out at red lights, and put your seat belt on.”

Singing, Jeremy made his usual noisy exit from the parking lot.

“Can’t you drive like a normal person?” Tom said.

“Tommy’s sul-king,” Jeremy said in a warning tone.

They drove in silence. Jeremy popped a cassette in the tape deck, and Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band started playing midsong.

“Aren’t you curious about your present?”

Tom was silent.

“ ‘Of course I’m curious, Jeremy! What’d you get me, what’d you get me?’ ” Jeremy said in his squeaky voice. “Well, kid. It’s pretty darn terrific, if I do say so myself. ‘What is it? What is it?’ I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise. ‘Give me hint, give me a hint.’ Well, it’s bigger than a bread box. It’s very soft. And Mike McConnell has one. ‘Wouldn’t happen to be leather would it?’ Why, Tommy! How’d you guess?”

Tom’s eyes widened. “You’re lying.”

“Unless, of course, you don’t want it?”

“You’re just fucking with my head.”

Jeremy laughed. He looked over and saw Tom’s face and went serious for a moment. Reaching across the seat, he poked him. “Let’s try that again. Would I tease the birthday boy?”

“Ye—” Tom clamped his mouth shut as Jeremy held up his index finger and waggled it at him.

“You’re quick. Let no one tell you that you are slow. If I remember, you said he bought it at the Leather Ranch. I am correct, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” he said, half-believing that Jeremy was serious.

“And that mall over there contains one store appropriately called the Leather Ranch, does it not?”

“Yes. Jeremy?” Tom said, hesitating, not knowing how to ask the question without sounding rude. Why would you buy me a leather jacket?

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got homework. I have to—”

“Oh, forget that tonight. We’re going to have a good time.”

They parked and Jeremy walked him to the mall, holding him just above the elbow. “Wouldn’t want you to get lost. Now. Rules of the game. One. You pick a jacket. Two. I approve of the jacket. Three. You don’t look at the price tags on any of them. Do you understand these rules?”

“But, Jerem—”

Jeremy pressed hard on a nerve in Tom’s arm. “Do you understand these rules?”

When Jeremy stopped pressing, Tom said, “Yes.”

“Good. Rule four. I buy. You shop. I will give you the signal—
meep
—if you are seen to be breaking a rule. If you are foolish enough to ignore the signal, I will throw you on the ground and tickle you until you pee. Is that clear?” He squeezed again.

“Yes.” Tom had thought Jeremy would let go of him when they got in the mall, but Jeremy didn’t.

“If you get more than four signals, I will throw you down on the floor and tickle you until you pee. Any questions?”

Tom shook his head.

“Good. You know, I like being older,” Jeremy said cheerfully. “It’s a far, far better thing. You’re lucky you don’t have any older brothers. Mine drove me nuts.”

Once in the store, Jeremy sat down by the cashier, a pretty blond who covered her mouth when she giggled. He waved his hand at Tom and told him to shop. Tom immediately found a black leather bomber exactly like Mike’s. He brought it to Jeremy, who told him to try it on.

“Ack,” Jeremy said. “N-O spells no. Take it away.”

“But I like—”

“Meep.”

The cashier giggled, looking at Jeremy from under her lashes. Tom wandered through the store, picking up, then putting jackets down. Jeremy finally came searching for him, saying time was a-wasting. Out of habit, Tom picked up a price tag, and Jeremy yelled triumphantly,
“Meep!
Two more, kid, and you’re dead in the water.”

Hardly even looking, Tom grabbed a jacket and showed it to Jeremy.

“Not bad.” He turned in the direction of the cashier. “Do you have it in brown?” he called to her.

“I want black.”

“It’s not your color. Look in the mirror. Makes you look sick.”

For the first time since entering the store, Tom glanced at a mirror. He turned away quickly.

“It’s not that bad,” Jeremy said. “You’re not Frankenstein, you know.”

Tom stared at his sneakers.

“You just wear geeky clothes and have geeky hair.”

“That’s all, huh?”

“Come on, stop being so hard on yourself.”

“Here we go,” the cashier chirped. “I got it in a size bigger because you’re going to grow soon.” She tilted her head as she smiled at him. “My brother was the same way exactly. He didn’t grow until he was almost seventeen. You shouldn’t be losing sleep about it, hey.”

Tom shoved Jeremy. “Why don’t you tell her about Paulina while you’re at it.”

Jeremy rocked on his heels and looked guiltily at the ceiling. The cashier giggled.

“You didn’t.”

“Who’s it going to hurt? You aren’t going to tell anyone, are you, Sherrie?”

“Lips are sealed.”

“See? Come on, try it on.” Jeremy held the jacket open. When Tom did nothing, Jeremy smiled wickedly. “In two seconds, you are going to be one meep away from total humiliation.”

“You,” Tom said, putting his arms in the sleeves. “Are such a crazy jerk it’s not fucking funny.”

“Yeah, yeah. Ta-da! You look great! All you need now is a decent haircut. Know a hairdresser open, Sherrie?”

“Sure. Try Shear Energy. Two stores down. Ask for Linda. She’s the absolute.”

“Wait a minute,” Tom said, stopping. “I don’t want a haircut.”

“Don’t worry about it. The jacket’s free and you can pay me back for the haircut later.” Jeremy paid for the jacket. Sherrie gave him her phone number. Jeremy dragged Tom into Shear Energy.

“I like my hair—Jeremy are you listening?” Tom said.

“Don’t whine. God, it’s grating. Hi! One haircut for my brother here, with Linda. Is she in?”

Linda had a neat platinum blond bob. She was wearing a pink suit so ugly it had to be expensive. Her fingernails were
the same color as her pumps and her hair. Tom mouthed “No” at Jeremy, who whispered, “One meep and counting.”

Tom listened in horror as Linda and Jeremy decided how he should look. For three terrifying seconds, Jeremy wanted a perm and a dye job, but Linda shook her head.

“Not enough time.” She lifted Tom’s chin. “I think we shave the back, yes, but leave the bangs. Yes, that’s good.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Negative. You’d still see the crappy blue stuff he’s got in his hair. I want it all out.”

“No way!” Tom yelled.

“How about this?” she said, pointing to a picture.

Jeremy considered it. “Yes. Yes, I like that.”

“What? Let me see,” Tom said.

“Here. Blunt cut. Short underneath.”

“You don’t need to show him. That’s perfect.”

“His hair.”

“My money.”

Linda crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s unwilling, I’m unwilling.”

Tom smiled in relief. The smile faded as Jeremy leaned over him. “If Tommy isn’t willing, he’s going to be very, very sorry. Tommy’s willing, isn’t he?”

“No, I’m not!”

“Oh, Tommy. You asked for this.” Jeremy yanked him out of the hairdresser’s chair.

“No!”

“Say yes, Tommy.”

Jeremy caught him by the elbow and pressed a nerve. Tom’s arm felt like a needle was going through it. “No. No. God”—Jeremy pressed hard —“damn you, no!”

“Say yes before it’s too late.” Slowly, Jeremy pushed him down. Then Jeremy started to tickle him.

“Help!” he shouted. Linda watched for a while, then looked away in distaste. There was no one else in the place.

Half an hour later, Jeremy clapped as Linda brushed stray hairs off Tom’s neck.

“You look great, kid. Now. A white shirt. You definitely need a white shirt with that cut. What do you think, Linda?”

She nodded and fingered Tom’s plaid shirt. “Burn his clothes, all of them, if they look like this.”

Tom stared at his reflection. God. The person who looked back at him belonged to a debating club, got his assignments done on time, and never, ever worried about money.

“Come on, it’s only hair.” Jeremy cuffed him. “It’ll grow back. Can I have your card, Linda? He’ll be back in a month.”

Jeremy bought him two white shirts, a cowboy tie, a pair of jeans (stiff dark blue Lees), a pair of pointed black leather Fluevog shoes, and eight pairs of nylon socks. Tom followed Jeremy through the stores in a daze, adding up the cost of everything Jeremy was buying him. “God,” he said. “Jeremy, I can’t afford this. I can’t pay you back.”

“Hmmm? Need any shorts?”

“No. Are you listening to me? I don’t have any money. Jeremy, for fuck’s sake, I—”