Cemetery Street - Page 84/263

Rumor had it that the sister's were exhibitionists who flashed their younger brother's friends. I wish I could say I had the good fortune of being victimized. Because I wasn't, Count busted my balls: "You're the only guy I know who could be in a room full of tits and come out sucking his thumb."

"Like you ever seen them," I complained.

"Let me tell you something my boy," Count wrapped his arm around me. "I'm not one to kiss and tell, but I had Marcy in the coffin show room. She's a kinky girl. She wanted me to nail her in a coffin."

"You're so full of shit!" I cried.

"How could I refuse?" he continued.

"Bull - Shit!" I insisted.

"Don't believe me, see if I care. But, next time you see that little turd Lucas, ask him how Marcy got that little scar on the side of her head."

"What scar?"

"You're not paying close enough attention," Count chided.

"Yeah, it's true," Steve Lucas admitted. "She cut her head on a coffin latch banging Count. Got herself a nasty little gash on the side of her head, bled like the pig she is - got blood all over the satin lining. Jesus was my dad pissed; he had to reline the box. I got grounded for two weeks over that one."

"Why did you get grounded?" I asked.

"I took the fall. The old man would kill Marcy if he found out about her little fetish. I always say; it's better to get laid in a coffin instead of being laid out in one. Yeah, she begged me to tell the old man we were wrestling, that I smacked her head against the latch. I told her it would cost her. When the old man asked me if Marcy's story was true and I said, "Yes sir, it is."

"What a noble gesture," Shannie said when I told her.

"Getting grounded didn't bother me," Steve continued. "I don't go anywhere after school. Plus I ended up getting a good look at the best pair of tits in town."

"That's disgusting!" Shannie exclaimed.

"That's Steve Lucas," I said.

***

"I can't wait for school," Shannie said during a late August afternoon spent in the maple tree. The oppressive heat hung over the junkyard and neighboring Squaw Valley, building thunderheads threatened the hazy sunshine.

"F school. I'd rather sit at home and read."