Dreamily, Jake remembered that he'd promised to go back to Joanie's place with her.
"Shit!" he exclaimed out loud.
"Shit!" he exclaimed out loud.
Soundtrack: Whiter Shade of Pale---Procol Harum
Jake wandered slowly into the main room. It was practically empty. Pat was gone. Luis, too. And, as he guessed, Bill was nowhere to be seen, probably upstairs with Christine or maybe even with several of the chickies at once. About all that were left were Stephen and a couple of goofy looking freshmen guys he seemed to be entertaining with some story he was acting out.
Jake guessed it really was time to find Joanie and make good on his promise to her. He walked slowly to the back room where he'd last seen her and opened the door. "Joanie? You there?"
No answer. Jake flipped on the lights. The room was empty. What the fuck? Where the hell was she? Well, fuck her! He walked back into the living room. He was suddenly very tired, unaccountably tired. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in a nice comfortable bed… like the one in Joanie's apartment. Well, too late for that!
He looked around. Now, only Stephen and Carl Schofield were left. Carl was sprawled, semi-comatose and camouflaged by his army fatigues in a big greenish-brown arm chair, a bottle of Wild Turkey moving, as if by its own volition, slowly back and forth between his lips and the floor. Stephen was smiling, looking directly at Jake standing there.
"So, Buddy. Just you and me left standing." Stephen joked. "Where to?"
Jake felt close to passing out. "Oh man. Let's go back to our place and sack out. I'm beat."
Front closet. Coats. Front door. Cold. Car, Stephen's car. Stephen plastered. Jake would have to drive. Hard starting, but catching, finally. Drive through dark and silence. Very dark. Very silent. Way to their apartment. Did he remember it ? Yeah. Right here. Go a ways. Left. End of the block. There on the right. Three story house. Light on back stairs. Park car in driveway. Open car door.
"Stevie, Stevie, We're here. Hey, man, wake up! We're here."
Slam doors of car. Stagger up walk. Trudge up endless stairs. Key.
"Stevie, you got the key?"
"Sure Jake, I got it. Here. Somewhere. Here in my backpack. Somewhere." Fumbling. Fumbling. "Oh shit!" Contents of backpack fall out. All sorts of crap. Pens, cigarettes, rubbers, pills, keys. Keys! Fumble with lock. Door open. Bed. Soft bed. Sleep. Sleep. Soft bed. Soft.
Jake dreamt that he could hear Joanie's voice calling to him, "Jake! Jake! Jake! Let's fuck!" But, he was too far away to reach her body. He was lying, asleep in his nice soft bed at home. His mother had tucked him in under a huge white down comforter. All he wanted was to stay asleep, safely beneath the comforter. He wanted nothing else. He could hear Joanie calling him. He could smell her. Now, he could feel her as she covered his soft penis with a pink-colored diaphragm. He sensed his dick hardening, as she began to lick it through the diaphragm. Slowly the diaphragm was lifted into the air by his growing cock...until it toppled off. Now, Joanie was peeling back his foreskin and licking the tip of his cock. What was she doing here at his Mom's house? He didn't really care. He was asleep in his nice soft bed; his Mom was downstairs cooking breakfast for him; he could smell the bacon. This feeling of comfort was all he wanted, all he wanted in the world.
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January 31, 1969: Scene 1 (To Come)
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