The Drowning Child

78

Jimmy Lyle walked the aisles of the department store. He stopped at swimwear. His heart pounded. He ran his fingers along the line of swim trunks on their little hangers. They weren’t organized by size, and it flooded him with anger.

He was looking for tags with the letter S. That was the size that interested him. He chose a plain yellow pair. He chose them because BoyUndr15 said that was his favorite color. And he chose them because of the days and nights he spent jerking off to the drowning boys and girls of Surf Rescue. And the lead actress in her yellow swimsuit. He loved her.

But he knew she didn’t care about him. She didn’t reply to any of his letters. The last one, the one he tried to hand-deliver, was taken from him before he even got a chance to get near her trailer. It didn’t matter how he explained it to the security guard, it didn’t matter how much he sobbed. He still remembered the cruelty of that man: ‘Dude, if she hasn’t replied to the first one hundred and twenty-seven letters, why do you think she’s going to reply to this one? What’s so special about one twenty-eight?’

‘Because there’s a gift in there with it,’ Jimmy had said. ‘It’s a package, can’t you see?’ And he knew that if she just watched the video that she would get it, that she would know. She would see how much she meant to him, she would see how everything he did was done while the show was reflected in his mirror. When she watched, she would be watching him watching her watching him.

His dick was hard by the time he reached the register. He smiled at the woman behind the counter, kept his eyes on hers.

‘You going on vacation?’ said the sales assistant.

Jimmy nodded. ‘Yes.’ His heart swelled. ‘And it’s my birthday today.’

‘If you show me some ID, I can give you our ten per cent birthday discount.’

It was Jimmy’s birthday. Just not the birthday that was on his fake ID.

He handed her cash. ‘Don’t worry – next time.’

She laughed. ‘You’ll only have to wait a whole year.’

He laughed, but he didn’t like anything about her.

‘So you’re going on vacation?’ she said.

With my boy. BoyUndr15.

Four hours later, Jimmy Lyle was standing by the pool, lost in the warm, shimmering water. Indoor, heated pool: BoyUndr15 had rich parents who didn’t give a shit about him. They would come home from their European vacation to find him. Jimmy expected that this was BoyUndr15’s plan. Jimmy knew what it was like to hate your parents, to want to punish them. He just wished he was as brave.

Across from him was a wall of glass that looked out on to snow-covered mountains. It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as what was about to unfold.

Jimmy’s hand was on his buckle. His swim trunks were under his jeans. He knew what was inside them was always bigger than people expected.

He had spent a lot of money at the store – the yellow shorts, the beach ball, the towels, the oil, the condoms. He unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his pants, slid them down. He had his father’s skinny limbs. He hated them. But that didn’t matter now. He was here, feet from this swimming pool, moments from his wildest dreams, hard and ready. He unpacked his camera, set up the tripod.

He thought of his father. He felt a spike of anger in his chest.

Nothing will spoil this. Nothing will spoil this.

He had run through what would happen when they met: he would greet the boy with a smile, he would make him feel relaxed. His heart was bursting.

His phone vibrated with a text.

There was a knock, and Jimmy walked over to the door, his heart pounding, his legs weak. He opened it. In the half-darkness, he could make out two figures standing there. One pushed past him, stood to his left. The other stood in front of him:

‘Jimmy Lyle? I’m BoyUndr15.’

It was a woman.

Jimmy Lyle stared. ‘But—’

She was holding up a badge. ‘Or Special Agent Ren Bryce...’ She smiled. ‘Happy Fuuucking Birthday, Jimmy.’