Chapter #38The Rich Life by: Seuzz   You tell yourself you are not betraying or tricking your confederates by keeping your progress a secret. You will tell them at some point. Probably soon. But Frank will be returning with a Shabbleman, and it seems best (so you tell yourself) to keep something like this a secret until you know there are no untoward risks associated with the newcomer.
You turn the page, anticipating (though not expecting) some kind of terrible surprise.
It's just another sigil. You're able to study it for about an hour before the phone rings.
* * * * *
Straussler hunches, slowly drumming the ball from one palm to the other, and grins at you. You hunch in front of him, blocking him from the basket. Fucker's got a full court of his own out back--if there is such a thing as a "back" to this castle he lives in--next to the tennis courts.
Slap, slap, slap. He pauses. You tense. He feints in one direction, but you're not fooled, and lunge in the other. But he's past you in a blur, and you only brush at his back. He bounces along for an easy lay up.
"Cheat!" you cry. "Cheating cheater who cheats!" He just laughs and tosses the ball to you. "Straussler can't--!"
"He can as long as I'm being him," Jonathan chortles. "I've had to hold back at school. You, on the other hand, are slacking."
"I'm putting everything I got into it. I can't help it if--" He laughs as you bluster inarticulately. "Fucking speed demon."
"That's me! But Ian's noticed that, uh, Joe's been a little off his game. He can't quite--" His hand moves in a blur, and you lose the ball to him, and he does another lay up. "He can't quite move as fast as he used to be able to."
"Then maybe we oughta switch places before Joe's reputation takes a hit."
"I told him you probably just have a cold. But switching is fine with me, for the weekend at least. That's why I invited you out today."
You straighten. "You want me to take over for Straussler?"
"Sure," he says. "You've been too intense the last week. Oh, don't get me wrong. I like what you've been doing with Becky, and Kyra and Rhianna and Mandy and Nikki and Kristy and Eileen and Amy--"
"When was I with Amy? Amy Rhodes?"
"You were studying with her on Thursday in the library."
"That was only studying."
He laughs. "Tell that to her. Didn't you notice the way she kept gasping and blushing?" He fans his face and rolls his eyes and grins inanely.
"Yeah, alright, I was flirting too. A little."
"Exactly. But how about doing it with Monique?"
"Would you be okay with that?" you ask.
It's a stupid question, and he rolls his eyes again. "That's a dumbass question even for you, Dumbass. Switch over to Straussler's face and ask me again if you shouldn't slip her a little bar of gold. Come on." He takes you by the shoulder and leads you back toward his apartments. "You should clean up and change before she gets here."
Inside, you run upstairs to the bedroom. It's actually quite small, having only about enough room for a king-size bed, a dresser and wardrobe, and some shelves with a bunch of trophies. Of course, given the rest of the apartment, it doesn't have to be big. More than half the upstairs space, in fact, is given over to a walk-in closet.
Jonathan peels off his shoes and shorts and t-shirt, then runs his hand in front of his face. A naked Will Prescott appears, then a naked Frank Durras, a naked Aubrey Blackwell (yuck!), a naked Melody Weiss-- "Hold it," you say, and she does a little double-take of surprise at you. You look her up and down with an appreciative chuckle; she sticks out her tongue, and flicks her hand across her face. Now it's Joe sticking his tongue out at you.
You laugh, and reach out to brush your fingertips over his chest. "Who needs Monique when we're both looking like this? Ever thought about making out with yourself, Joe?"
Light dimples show in his cheeks as he smiles tightly. "It'd be like kissing your sister. Come on. Show me Straussler."
So you pull off your own clothes and brush your fingers over your face. The room turns a little smaller: You're now Frank. Another brush of your fingers. The room shrinks a little more. You look over your shoulder into the mirror. There he is: Jonathan Straussler, tall, slim, and tan all over. Pronounced cheekbones, a sharp chin, satirical eyes. You brush past Joe--the top of his head barely meets your eyes--to the dresser and take out some fresh boxers. "Is there anything I need to know? You do anything with Monique last night? How's the beast?"
"I didn't talk to her, and the beast hasn't bothered Jonathan for a few days."
You turn, for it's not Joe's voice. He's put Frank's face back on, and is digging through the bag he'd asked you to bring over. "You gonna spend the weekend as your brother?"
"I feel like a challenge," he says. He draws on underwear and some heavy jeans. "Maybe we could go hang out with some of Monique's friends." He pulls a tight, white t-shirt down over his torso.
After some thought, you don khaki shorts and a polo shirt. It's cool outside, but not so cool you can't show calves. You and your partner plop down on the bed to put on shoes. Then you go downstairs, where you ask if he wants a beer. "Water," he says brusquely. "How are you getting along with the Libra?"
"Can you make up your mind?" you ask as you get him and you both some mineral water. "First you want me to have fun, and then you put on--"
"Fun can wait until Monique shows up. And there's not much point to switching faces if you're not going to act in character when you're inside them."
"In that case-- The fuck is this Libra you're asking me about?"
He grimaces. "Just answer the fucking question."
"I think I see how that crazy page works," you say, not wanting to give him a total lie. "It's another test, like the torn page. Gimme a little while and I think I can get us past it. But you and, uh, 'your brother', found enough in the meantime to keep us busy."
"The new mask set up is convenient, and the copy spell is useful," he grunts. He glares at the wall while swallowing half the water bottle. "The rest is bullshit."
"There's theory behind it. Probably some useful applications if we think about them."
"I'm all for practical applications--" he starts to say, but shuts up at the gentle knock at the door. It opens, and Monique peers in.
"Hey, it's my little songbird," you smile, and gesture her in. She scampers across the room and cradles up next to you, barely coming over your shoulder, and you bend down to kiss her forehead. "I was about to call you. I was getting worried."
"My mom kept me," she says shyly. "Hi Frank." He smiles and nods back. She looks up at you, but refuses when you offer her the water. "You didn't call me last night."
"I'm sorry, I had some business." You stroke her back, and gently press her onto the sofa. You curl up next to her with your arm around her. "I was thinking about you, though." You lean in and kiss her by the ear. And then you kiss her on the cheek. "Thinking lots--" Kiss. "And lots." Kiss. "About you." Your cock slithers up through the folds in your shorts.
She lifts her face to gaze at you. She has big, dark eyes in a pale face, and brown hair falls from around her broad forehead. Her mouth is small, and she doesn't wear makeup, since she's only in ninth grade. But that just leaves her looking very young and very fresh. Jonathan doesn't much like the girls that cake it on and strive to look like mature women.
"I was thinking about you too," she says, but squirms away as you lean in for a kiss on her mouth. "Where's your brother, Frank?"
"We don't always hang out together," he says as he collapses into a bean bag. "He's home right now. Figuring out how long it takes a train traveling at sixty miles an hour to make a sixty mile trip."
You snicker. Your memories of being Joe have been replaced by those of Jonathan's, but it's exactly the kind of problem that Joe pretends to be baffled by. Monique squirms a little more in the crook of your arm. "Wouldn't it take an hour?" she asks.
"Joe'll never figure it out," Frank sighs. "When I left him, he was asking how many locomotives were pulling the train."
"How someone can be so fast on the court and so slow in the classroom--" You shake your head in wonderment. "He's better than you in the gym, though," you add.
"He's got baby brother syndrome, always trying to show me up. He's hopeless at the academics, but--"
"Monique has a little sister," you say. "Angelique. She's adorable. How old is she?" you ask Monique.
"Eleven, and she's a pain in the derriere."
You talk a little more about siblings, and sibling rivalry, and why Jonathan is an only child. ("They couldn't improve on you," Monique says. "They lost all hope," you counter.) After awhile, you offer to treat everyone to lunch. "I have to powder my nose first," Monique says, and leaps off the sofa for the bathroom.
"I should take a rain check," Frank says.
"I thought we were gonna hang out, find you a date."
"We could," he says. "But I lifted some of Blackwell's knockout powder while we were out there yesterday. It's in the closet." He holds your eye meaningfully. "Fuck her, man, then put some in her face. Get a copy of her in that mask of yours while she's out."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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