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The Way I Heard Wet [Fiction]

March 18, 2013 by T. L. Sherwood Leave a Comment

Oh no, simply not the sex talk, Dad. Ever. I squeeze my eyes shut and imagine that I’m at the beach, or in jail, English class-anywhere else. Please. But he does, and it’s worse than I imagine.

Some conversations you never want to have. My dad is screwy. Every other kid in the world gets his intercourse speak in the privacy of their own home. My dad takes me to the bowling alley to do it. The crack of the ball hitting the polished wood, the moving good implemented by the accident of eight pins keeps me aware and anxious.

It’s not like I even need it. Girls have been sexting me since I was twelve, and over at Jordon’s we’ve looked at a ton of the shit his step-dad has hidden in a file called "Taxes." Some of the stuff looks like you’d need to be an athlete in top shape before you could do it, but otherwise it’s insert tab a into slot a, b, c, or if you’re weird like Jordon’s step-dad, the ear.

All casual like, my dad tries to relate to me, "When I asked Marcy Hiller to the junior prom, I got thus antsy I could speak barely. You feel like that actually? Around boys, I mean."

Oh god, it’s even worse than I thought. "Um, are you asking me if We’m gay?"

"There’s nothing wrong with that. There used to be, but right now you can obtain wedded in New York and everything. Well, when you’re older."

"Dad, I’m not gay."

He takes a sip of his beer and looks up at the scoreboard while he nods. "You’re up."

I let the air blow over my fingers before I pick up the eleven pounder. I straight stand up, pace out my steps and let it roll the center down. Strike. I walk back and give my dad a high five because even though it’s dorkier than shit, we’ve been doing it since I was two when he first started taking me to the Split Decision Cocktail Club and Bowling Alley.

He rolls another split and picks it up. The waitresses are hot here. Not really every guy features about a streak of producing 100 pins a video game hardly, but he does. To him, and my mom, it showed how much he cared. A few years ago, during the week my little brother and my mom were in the hospital because of complications during the delivery, he bowled the lowest scores of his life. Every evening that 7 days Father and I obtained to consume in the community hall, so it was all right with me. He sucks at bowling when he’s stressed.

Dad comes back and sits at the video screen desk and looks over his score. "This sucks," he says.

I throw a gutter ball, "Yeah."

"Is that how I taught you to bowl?" he chides.

"Naw, that’s mom’s side of the family showing," I joke, expecting the speak is definitely more than plus end up being heading house shortly. I again roll, obtain a hit this period.

"Better," he says when he smacks my hand.

He rolls three strikes in a row to save his score at the end. A divide is definitely obtained by me, pick it up and only get nine pins on the last frame.

"Good game. Lunch?"

Now I’m feeling antsy. She laughs and we adhere to her great circular ass to a presentation area in the comparative back again part. Ginger, the hottest waitress there, today is hostess. Please, God. We walk through the double doors into the lounge area. It wouldn’t surprise me if Dad had asked Ginger to seat us back here before we even showed up. "Sure." Once this is over, we in no way have got to speak of these points once again.

I sit across from him on the almost orange colored vinyl and stare at the menu We’ve had memorized since I was six. Erin shows up and fills our drinking water goblets more than. The prices have gone up a few times, but the selections possessn’t changed.

"How are my favorite guys today? What can you are usually got by me?"

"Cheeseburger, curly fries and don’t tell my wife."

Yes. Seriously, that’s the same thing and the same way he has always ordered lunch.

"You want another Bud, too?"

"Please. What about you, Devon? Today You hungry?"

I’d been trying to figure out how to deal if the conversation turned really gross, like old man erectile dysfunction gross and my lunch decided to come back up again, "Can I have a few minutes?"

My dad looks nonplussed, but Erin is confused. "Don’capital t you wish the poultry popcorn poppers and fingertips container?"

That is my most frequent order.

"Hey Erin," Dad says, "Why don’t you get him a Coke and fetch me my beer. He’ll end up being prepared when you obtain back again, OK?"

She glances backwards at me, not sure what to make of my violating the protocol of our long standing orders.

"You OK, Devon?"

What am I supposed to say? "We’m fine. Not hungry really, I guess." No Dad, I’meters not OK. I’m ready to hurl thanks to you.

"Get some wings then. Ain’capital t barely any meats on those points anyhow."

I nod and order ten hot when Erin comes back with my drink. We make a big production out of unwrapping the straw.

"Your ma says Mrs. Colter called. That true?" I look down at the chipped table, waiting to get bitched out. " Said you and the guys were looking at some porn. "You know that’s fantasy, don’t you?

Now I’m disoriented. I look at him, his eyes are sad like when mom was in the hospital, "What do you mean?"

"I’m no saint, Dev. You get her naked and she ain’t gonna look as as the ladies in the movies tight. Hell, Ginger is one nice piece of ass, but look at her middle. I’ve looked, too. Think about it Now. Thwill be lounge excluded, you see any girls in thwill become town that look that good? Real life girls don’t come airbrushed."

Oh, God, I antsy am. Buggy. Wanting I actually had mandibles to out there nothing my ears.

"Hell, you hear half the moaning those girls do in the videos, that’s going be when you’re rubbing their feet after they get home from work. Or their back."

Erin comes over and with practiced flair puts the platter in front of my father. She takes the top bowl off the bottom bowl of my wings and sets the container of blue cheese and the bottle of mustard down on the table at the same time.

"Getcha anything else, guys?"

"We’re good. You great, Devon?"

"I’m good."

"All right, then. Enjoy your lunch." Erin wiggles back to the waitress station to roll up silverware into neat little bundles.

Dad picks up the ketchup bottle by the napkin holder against the wall. He liberally douses his burger and fries with ketchup while I peel off the foil top of the dressing and plunge a carrot stick in to stir it up.

"We’d simply attempting to allow you down simple. likely to attempt to demonstrate myself mistaken "You’re also. That’s fine. I’meters not stating possess any enjoyment put on’testosterone levels. The sex you saw might feel good, but it’s hollow," he says and bites into his burger. I dip the fat end of a wing into the blue cheese and wait. " Use a condom. You’re not stupid, are you? He takes a few more decisive bites before he sets it down and starts to eat and talk around his fries.

I think We am, but I shake my head.

"Kids are fine. Children are usually great. When you’re ready for them." He dips a few fries into the pool of ketchup and brings them up close to his mouth, any time right now "I’ll be prepared to possess some myself."

I laugh. We can’t help it. It might not really become the funniest series in the worldwide globe, but the awkwardness is killing us both.

"I’ve always thought you were a smart kid. I was for a while." I didn’t think I’d have to have the sex talk with you. I back take that, I figured you’d be giving me pointers, but hey, I simply don’testosterone levels need you to obtain baffled will be all.

"What do you mean?"

"I learned about sex in school. Real dry. Clinical. Wen the army, there was a whorehouse close to the barracks. A bunch of us guys went."

I set the bone in the empty dish.

"You’re going to go to college, therefore you’ll most likely set off to a sorority house rather. Doesn’t matter. It’s sex. It feels great."

"I kind of figured that."

"It’s not love."

"So?"

"So I know I give your ma a lot of shit about her hippy-dippy beliefs sometimes, but she’s right occasionally. I didn’t believe him. You make love to a person you love and it goes beyond getting off. I was screwing around and it felt great. We met your mother After that." My Sarge, he aside took me, told me that.

I start to make a face.

"Yeah, that’s what I want to do when I think about Meemo and Papa doing it, too. Face it, it happens. Ain’testosterone levels simply no one I understand around that was produced in a check pipe here."

"Allison Brady, I think."

"Well, can you blame Paul? Look at Loretta."

I laugh at the meanness but feel weird about it.

"I’m just letting you know, man to man. All right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

We eat in silence for a while. The celery sticks are rubbery, but I eat them therefore I earned’t possess to chat anyway. I believe Father is definitely consuming sluggish as well, offering myself time period in order to arrive right up with concerns that We possess put on’big t. I’m still working with the same premise: Insert tab a into slot a, b, c, or … . Erin comes over with another beer and a fresh Coke.

"Hey, Dad."

"Yeah?"

"I have a question. "

"Shoot," he picks out several napkins from the metal box at the end of the table and sets to work, rubbing off the ketchup from his fingers.

"Well, I know the how and stuff, but why would a guy want to put it in a girl’s ear? Does that feel good?"

My dad sits there, his hands mid-wipe, his mouth open for a very long time partly.

Read more on The Good Life: Where You Came From

Image credit: Anderson Mancini/Flickr

Filed Under: Featured Content, Pornography and Men, The Good Life Tagged With: coming out, fiction, male bonding, prostitution, Sex Ed, sex education, sex talk, the sex talk

About T. L. Sherwood

T. L. Sherwood is a fiction editor at r.kv.r.y. Literary Journal Quarterly. Her work has appeared or will be forthcoming in Rosebud, Testosterone levelshe Chrysalis Relizabethader, and Thema. Her blog, Creekside Reflections, can be found at: http://tlsherwood.wordpress.com/

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