OLD BOYS, NEW TOYS

OLD BOYS, NEW TOYS

We were just learning how to be kids back then. By the time we got into junior high, we were calling ourselves The Fearsome Foursome. Blood and blisters on our fingers, chaos ruling our world, we thought people tremble that are approached. To some extent, they did. Of course, when we got older, we realized it wasn’t because we were such badass dudes it was because we were god-awful kids that were constantly tearing shit up and getting into trouble.

There was Wash, Hy, Van, and me- Terry. I was the unofficial ringleader. Or at least I was the one that grown-ups always came looking for first. ‘No, I don’t know where they are, and no, I don’t know how Mr. Garvin’s prize show pig got down Mrs. Moore’s well!’ and ‘I have no idea where they are, and I have no idea how Tom Morton’s tractor got into Miller pond!’ There was a lot of that kind of stuff in our little country town of Guthrie, Texas.

We were really easy marks, though. As there were only five kids in our entire town. Four of them attached at the hip, and the other one a soft little sumbitch that never left his house or his mama’s skirt. All the rest of the kids lived out in the country, see. We were what you call… RURAL! But, it cut down on the travel time for our local sheriff; he always knew who to round up. The ‘Usual Suspects,’ I guess you could say. It made our lives hell. Anything bad happened, we were blamed.

Like the summer of the Town Section went up in flames. Three-hundred acres of overgrown backcountry, tumbleweeds, mesquite trees, and the Smith’s wild-ass Shetland ponies. Poof! All up in smoke. It even got damn near the town at one point, and channel 7 out of Amarillo sent in a news team. They called fire trucks in from Childress, Paducah, Aspermont, and Knox City and finally, finally got it put out. And who did they blame for that worthless burned-up scrubland and well-done ponies? Us, of course, the Fearsome Foursome. Fortunately, our mamas wouldn’t have any of that. They screamed at people and pitched a bitch-fit that would have made Satan blush. They said there was no way we could have done it, and for people to say we did was slanderous, unChristian even. Hy’s mom threatened to get a lawyer, Wash’s mom threatened to call the newspapers, and my mom threatened just about everybody she could. Van’s mom was suspiciously quiet. I guess she figured there was a slight chance her darling little boy and his ne’er-do-well mates did it. Of course, she was right. Guilty!

Van was trying to show us what happened when you dipped a cat’s tail in turpentine and set fire to it. Old lady Piper’s puss plum got away from us. It ran off through the bush ass on fire, spreading flames through that dried scrub like a meteor slicing through clouds. They never found the cat.

But that’s how we were, blood brothers to the end. We took the sacred oath of kinship, pricked the ‘fingers-of-forevertude,’ and drank the piss of... oh, well, I can’t really remember why we did that one. I think it was on a dare. We drink our own piss, and we get to see Hy’s sister’s beaver or something like that.

In school, we damn near ran things. We were all good at sports, made our small school and town look big in football and basketball, and with each win, the town forgot a little bit more about the things those mean-as-hell kids did. By the time we graduated, we were bonafide saints.

But for us four, we drank the same beer, fought the same fights, and banged the same girls, sometimes. Lisa Renni, to be precise. The Principal’s daughter. She did us dumb at a country dance one night, then ran off with some cowboy from one of the local ranches. Like we gave a shit, her poo-nang could have looked like a slip-and-slide, and it wouldn’t have mattered to us. We were inseparable, and after graduation, we got drunk and a little high and hugged each other and cried like a bunch of heartbroken old queens. We took an oath right then and there that we’d always be there for one another. No matter what, no matter where we’d stay close and be forever buds.

Unfortunately... We did!

It’s been twenty years since we took that oath, and oh, well, fate is a bitch. We don’t live more than thirty miles apart, and we get together just about every other weekend at least. Van and I live in Childress, the big city, about 30 clicks away. I run a tire and oil change shop, and Van works for a Ford dealership. Hy lives in Paducah and runs a feed store, and Wash, well, Wash never got out of Guthrie. He’s the head man at the TxDOT station now.

It’s different when we get together now. We used to be young, wild, and full of unbridled lust for life. Now, when we get together, we’re like a bunch of bitchy little old ladies at a quilting bee.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s not like it’s bad or anything. We’re all married, and got kids, so that’s good. We do pretty well for a bunch of uneducated farm boys, and we still get to kick around with one another every so often. Hunting, fishing, Fourth of July’s at Greenbelt lake, and sometimes skiing up in Santa Fe. We all live pretty normal lives; that’s a fact. It’s just; sometimes, I think we all had bigger plans when we were doing all that kid and teenage stuff. I know we didn’t think about the future much, but we all visualized a much bigger future. At least I did.

One good thing is our wives all get along. It would have been a real pain in the ass if they hadn’t. When we get together, they leave us alone and let us do our ‘guy’ things, and they sit around, drinking mar-ritas and talking trash about us. It’s all normal-like, except for Hu.

Hu is Wash’s wife, and she’s a card out of a marked deck. She’s Chinese, and Wash got hooked up with her through one of those Mail-Order Brides websites. See, Wash was never what you would call a good-looking guy. In fact, he’s downright fugly. Tall, skinny, greasy red hair and a face like someone took a pitchfork to it. There wasn’t a whole lot of pickings for him in the lady’s department around Guthrie, and what was available wouldn’t have anything to do with him. So when Wash went out of town to do his courting, he went way out. A genuine mail-order bride! We were all for it too. I mean, as long as Wash had someone, right? He’s a hell of a good guy, and he deserved someone who would be good to him. And I tell you, Hu is it! She’s short, four-foot-nothing, a little chunky, and cute as a bug. She can’t speak English worth a shit, but she’s a lot of fun. She’s always the life of the party, especially if she’s drinking, and Hu can drink like a damn sailor. She’s got ol’ Wash wrapped around her little finger, too. He does everything for her.

‘Wash, please baby, you rub momma’s feet for her. Wash, please baby, you pour mommy another my mar’ita.’ It’s hysterical how she has him running around sometimes, but Hu’s good to Wash. That’s all that counts.

Who has a natural draw, like an inner glow, and the other wives hoover around her when she tells stories on Wash. It’s like bugs around a gas light. It doesn’t bother Wash. The way he tells it, no matter how much she embarrasses him sometimes, she more than makes up for it in the sack. He says she does things to him that he’s never even heard of and thinks she even comes up with a few things on her own. Man, that’ll get you thinking, and I think me and the other boys secretly have a little crush on little ol’ Hu.

But isn’t it funny how you think you know someone? I mean, like you know them inside and out, and nothing they can do will ever surprise you. That’s what we all thought about Wash.

We were at Hy’s house. He’s got a nice spread with a huge kitchen. He just got a brand new indoor grill installed, and we were all standing around it, watching steaks sizzle and drinking beer. Van was telling Hy he had his grill too hot, and Wash was talking to me about the new road stripping machine his depart just bought.

‘Most people never think about the stripes in the middle of the road. But I tell you, they’re damn important. They got to be perfect. So long and so wide and not a fraction over. It’s damn serious work!’

I was just drinking and thinking about how Wash did his job without going insane with boredom.

All the women were sitting around the kitchen table looking at Hy and Marty’s wedding pictures and sucking back margaritas like it was Sunday. Suddenly they started laughing and carrying on like a bunch of schoolgirls.

‘What’s up?’ I asked Lynn, my wife.

‘We’re talking about the worst anniversary gifts you boys have ever given us, and I was telling them about the fly rod you got me last year.’

‘That was a three-hundred-dollar rod!’ I sputtered, outraged she would even consider it a lame gift.

‘I hate fishing!’ She yelled back

‘You could have tried at least,’ I said and winked at Wash. ‘Makes no difference. It still gets used.’

‘Men!’ The girls said almost in unison and started giggling again.

Hu turned up her glass and drained her margarita. She slammed it back down on the table and pointed a finger at Van’s wife, Jenn.

‘Jenn,’ she said. ‘You no make good bartender. My glass empty.’ They started laughing at that, and Jenn poured Hu another drink. Hu took a sip and raised her glass in salute to the rest of the ladies.

‘Wash, make no mistake,’ she said, words slurred just enough to be fun. ‘He make sure momma get good present. He make sure momma get biiiiig present.’

We all looked at Wash, and I swear, you could actually see the color drain from his face.

Hu got up and started wobbling towards us. She smiled a drunkard’s smile at her bleach-faced husband. It was one of those smiles that only come when you are completely piss-faced. Her lips were at odd little angles, the left side of her face looked slightly paralyzed, and her skin had a nice alcohol blush to it. She came up next to Wash and squirmed under his arm; she barely reached his chest.

‘Yes, Wash and doctor make Hu happy. Give momma great… big… fat… present!’

Then, while we all watched, Hu reached down and grabbed a handful of Wash’s crotch. She started laughing and giggling and shaking his package like there was no end to it. I thought she was going to fall on her ass.

Now everyone was wearing the same expression. That- ‘What the fuck!’ expression.

‘Dang-gone-it, Hu! Just keep quiet and go back and sit down,’ Wash said, trying to get his laughing, spasming little Chinese wife to let go of his dick. I mean, she had a death grip on that thing.

Hu bent over and stuck her face right in Wash’s crotch. ‘Does Mommy make her new fat boy happy?’ She said. ‘Fat boy, make mommy happy!’ Then she just fell to the floor and laughed so hard she started crying.

I looked over at Lynn; she was smiling. We were all smiling but had no idea why.

I looked at Wash, he looked at me, and he just looked helpless and lost.

‘Wash,’ I said. ‘I think we better go outside.’

You did what!

Hy said it, but he’d just been the first. It’d been on all of our lips. We were outside in Hy’s backyard and had Wash circled up. He was in the middle, spinning round and round, and we could hear Hu inside howling. I knew the girls were doing the same thing with her we were doing with wash.

‘A penis enlargement! Have you done lost your fucking mind!!’ Van said, his voice a horse whisper. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head, and he looked around like he was afraid someone would hear him. I mean, we were the only ones there. I wondered if his mouth was dry, like mine.

Wash acted like we were about to start wailing on him or something. He had this look like he was about to Jack Rabbit over the fence and out the yard. But even if he tried, I knew we would catch him. I mean, we had to hear this one.

‘It was nothing,’ he said, almost defensively. ‘I mean, like day surgery. In and out. That kind of thing.’

‘What do you mean nothing! If it’s got to do with your dick, it damn sure is something!’ Hy said, throwing his arms up and waving them around in the air like a madman.

‘No, really nothing. I was up and going again in two or three weeks. Honest to God. I mean, really UP!’

‘Wash, what you do a damn thing like that for. I’ve heard about them things. I’ve also heard about guys getting their damn Johnson’s cut off doing it.’ I had to whisper. I don’t know, it was just, all of a sudden, I had this weird feeling someone had their phone out recording us. That’s how weird the whole thing seemed.

‘Why? Oh hell. I don’t know. I was just in kind of a rut. You know.’

‘Wash, people in a rut go out and buy a car, get a bass boat, or screw some teenage chick. They don’t go off and get their dicks cut on.’

I could tell Wash wasn’t comfortable talking about it. Hell, none of us were. But still, we pressed. I mean, Jesus! What else could we do?

‘Was it Hu, Wash? Did she, uh, want you to do it?’

‘Why hell no! She didn’t even know I had done it until she saw it. It was a surprise. But, like I was saying, I was just in a rut. Everything was fine, I guess; I mean with the family and work. I just didn’t feel really good about anything. Like I was going through the motions. So, I decided to do something for myself. I didn’t know what, but then I saw this TV show on cable, and I said to myself, “Wash old boy, there it is. That’s what you’re going to do.” And I went and did it, and I don’t feel sorry for it. Everything’s fine now. Just fine. And Hu, hell, you heard her. She loves it.’

Well, there was no arguing with that, but, oh, there were still questions—lots of them. I just didn’t want to be the one to ask.

‘Did it snap you out of your rut?’ I finally asked.

‘Damn, sure did. I walked around now feeling more confident, more sure of myself. Because I know I’m packing. Know what I mean?’

We all nodded, but none of us knew what he meant.

‘See, here’s what they did,’ Wash explained. ‘They just went in, cut around the bottom a little, pulled it out, sewed it up, and filled the sides up with fat.’

‘With fat!’ I yelled, then remembered the camera. ‘With fat?’ I whispered.

’Yeah. It makes it bigger ‘round. That’s what Hu likes. It didn’t make it much longer. Just an inch or so. But man, it’s big around as a Coke can and just as full.’

Wash folded his arms across his chest, stuck his chin out, and just grin like a possum eating shit. You could tell he was damn proud of his new fat little boy.

‘Did it hurt,’ Van asked.

‘Mild discomfort for two or three weeks but after that, smooth sailing.’

Then, well… then things just got fucking weird.

‘Can we see it?’ We all looked at Hy. I couldn’t believe he’d said it. None of us could. I mean... Who could?

‘See what?’ Wash said, and he said it slowly, like he wasn’t sure what Hy said.

‘Your new dick, dumbass! What do you think I mean!’

We were all quiet for a minute, or maybe it was an hour; I’m not quite sure. Time seemed to stand still and expand at the same time. It was just really tense because, to tell you the truth, we all wanted to see it. Like getting a cellphone pick of a twelve-point buck out in the brush. You know the great mystical creature is out there, but no one’s ever seen it until…click.

Wash eyed us all, and he got this mean-as-hell look on his face. He shifted around nervously, looking back towards the house, making sure all the ladies were still inside.

‘Nobody ever says anything about this ever again. Hear me. Ever! Our God help me, I’ll... AND NO CELL PHONES!!’ I couldn’t believe it; Wash started to unzip his pants.

And there it was. I wasn’t sure what to expect; angels singing, trumpets blowing, something, but nothing happened. All that happened was we stared at our best friend’s big fat new penis hanging out of his fly. It really didn’t look like a penis, leastways, not one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen my fair share of them. I did play football, and in the locker room, well, shit just happens. This thing, I can’t even describe. It wasn’t very long, for obvious reasons, but it was just like Wash said FAT! Jesus, it was fat. It looks like a big ball of dough. Like a snake that’d just swallowed a big rat and was lazing around after a filling meal. Well, you get the picture. I couldn’t believe it, none of us could, but we couldn’t take our eyes off of either.

‘Hey, don’t get so close,’ Wash told us.

‘Oh, sorry,’ I said.

I expected Jerry Springer to pop up over the fence any moment.

BIG PENISES, BEST FRIENDS, AND BACKYARDS!... Next on the Springer Show. I could just see it.

‘See, I told you. Bigger and better. It’s not that long right now, obviously, but... Hey! Hey! HEY!! What the hell do you think you’re doing!’

I looked up, and Van had a little stick in his hand, and he was pointing it toward Big Boy. I looked up at Wash.

‘What? What the hell are you doing with that stick?!’

Van wiggled the stick at Wash’s crotch.

‘I was going to poke it,’ he said.

‘What are you? Crazy or something! You’re not poking me with that thing.’

I look at Van’s stick, then up at Wash. It was a sticky situation.

‘Well, I sure as hell ain’t poking it with my finger,’ Van told him.

‘Sure as hell you ain’t poking it with anything!’ Wash yelled.

‘Come on, Wash. Let him just tickle it a little,’ Hy said.

Enough was enough. I walked back to the house, leaving my friends, one of them with his pants down around his ankles, arguing in the backyard. I wondered how far the girls had gotten with Hu.

Driving home that night, I sat thinking about the day’s festive events. I’ve seen, done, and heard of some weird shit in my life, but believe me, Wash and his penis were the weirdest. Lynn stirred in the passenger seat. I thought she was asleep.

Finally, she leaned over from the passenger side, put her head in my lap, looked up at me, and said, ‘Honey, did Wash say how much it cost?’