Ham On Rye

13

I was in the 4th grade when I found out about it. I was probably one of the last to know, because I still didn't talk to anybody. A boy walked up to me while I was standing around at recess.

"Don't you know how it happens?" he asked.

"What?"

"Fucking."

"What's that?"

"Your mother has a hole…" - he took the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and made a circle - "and your father has a dong…" - he took his left forefinger and ran it back and forth through the hole. "Then your father's dong shoots juice and sometimes your mother has a baby and sometimes she doesn't."

"God makes babies," I said.

"Like shit," the kid said and walked off. It was hard for me to believe. When recess was over I sat in class and thought about it. My mother had a hole and my father had a dong that shot juice. How could they have things like that and walk around as if everything was normal, and talk about things, and then do it and not tell anybody? I really felt like puking when I thought that I had started off as my father's juice.

That night after the lights were out I stayed awake in bed and listened. Sure enough, I began to hear sounds. Their bed began creaking. I could hear the springs. I got out of bed and tiptoed down to their door and listened. The bed kept making sounds.

Then it stopped. I hurried back down the hall and into my bedroom. I heard my mother go into the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush and then she walked out.

What a terrible thing! No wonder they did it in secret! And to think, everybody did it! The teachers, the principal, everybody! It was pretty stupid. Then I thought about doing it with Lila Jane and it didn't seem so dumb.

The next day in class I thought about it all day. I looked at the little girls and imagined myself doing it with them. I would do it with all of them and make babies. I'd fill the world with guys like me, great baseball players, home run hitters. That day just before class ended the teacher, Mrs. Westphal, said: "Henry, will you stay after class?"

The bell rang and the other children left. I sat at my desk and waited. Mrs. Westphal was correcting papers. I thought, maybe she wants to do it with me. I imagined pulling her dress up and looking at her hole. "All right, Mrs. Westphal, I'm ready."

She looked up from her papers. "All right, Henry, first erase all the blackboards. Then take the erasers outside and dust them."

I did as I was told, then sat back down at my desk. Mrs. Westphal just sat there correcting papers. She had on a tight blue dress, she wore large golden earrings, had a tiny nose and wore rimless glasses. I waited and waited. Then I said, "Mrs. Westphal, why did you keep me after school?"

She looked up and stared at me. Her eyes were green and deep.

"I kept you after school because sometimes you're bad."

"Oh, yeah?" I smiled.

Mrs. Westphal looked at me. She took her glasses off and kept staring. Her legs were behind the desk. I couldn't look up her dress.

"You were very inattentive today, Henry."

"Yeah?"

"'Yes' is the word. You're addressing a lady!"

"Oh, I know…"

"Don't get sassy with me!"

"Whatever you say."

Mrs. Westphal stood up and came out from behind her desk.

She walked down the aisle and sat on the top of the desk across from me. She had nice long legs in silk stockings. She smiled at me, reached out a hand and touched one of my wrists.

"Your parents don't give you much love, do they?"

"I don't need that stuff," I told her.

"Henry, everybody needs love."

"I don't need anything."

"You poor boy."

She stood up, came to my desk and slowly took my head in her hands. She bent over and pressed it against her breasts. I reached around and grabbed her legs.

"Henry, you must stop fighting everybody! We want to help you."

I grabbed Mrs. Westphal's legs harder. "All right," I said, "let's fuck!"

Mrs. Westphal pushed me away and stood back.

" What did you say? "

"I said, let's fuck!"

She looked at me a long time. Then she said, "Henry, I am never going to tell anybody what you said, not the principal or your parents or anybody. But I never, never want you to say that to me again, do you understand?"

"I understand."

"All right. You can go home now."

I got up and walked toward the door. When I opened it, Mrs. Westphal said, "Good afternoon, Henry."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Westphal."

I walked down the street wondering about it. I felt she wanted to fuck but was afraid because I was too young for her and that my parents or the principal might find out. It had been exciting being in the room with her alone. This thing about.fucking was nice. It gave people extra things to think about.

There was one large boulevard to' cross on the way home. I entered the crosswalk. Suddenly there was a car coming right at me. It didn't slow down. It was weaving wildly. I tried to run out of its path but it appeared to follow me. I saw headlights, wheels, a bumper. The car hit me and then there was blackness.,.