Date: Mon, 23 Dec 2002 06:15:18 -0500
From: Taylor Siluwe <taylorsiluwe@earthlink.net>
Subject: "Grandma's Hands"  Part 4

     "Grandma's Hands"
      Copyright 2001 by Taylor Siluwe

      Part Four

      Archibald was back in all his phallic finery. Ezekiel watched it grow
to proportions that he had forgotten it could achieve. As he lay on the
sofa, basking in the moonlight that seeped into the room, a thoroughly
lascivious grin broke out across his face. He wasn't sure why Rachel had
done this, and he didn't know what his mission was supposed to be; but he
did know one thing, ... he was horny as hell!
      Sonny had gone to bed already, apparently worn out by the day's
events. It was eleven o'clock. Time to hit the streets. Ezekiel needed to
test his wings, ... so to speak.
      Stuffing his protesting organ back into his pants, he took some money
out of the coffee can in the refrigerator. In a few moments he was on the
street; driven by carnal urges that seemed to be on the verge of
overwhelming him. He felt like `Chester the Molester' as he made a b-line
for the red-light district.
      When he got there, the scent of sex in the air was intoxicating. What
had been an average urban neighborhood a block or so away, suddenly turned
into Sodom and Gomorrah. Neon lights flashed, advertising various
indulgences one might choose to entertain. Peep shows proliferated; strip
clubs resided on both sides of the street. It was horny heaven.
      Hookers were everywhere, leaning into vehicles and strolling slowly
past Ezekiel, looking him over. Most decided that he was too young and kept
going. If they only knew, he thought.
      He stopped in front of a place he hadn't been to in over twenty
years. `Rico's' was a strip bar that he had been quite familiar with in his
day. He was amazed that it was still open. A flood of memories came back to
him. How many times had he staggered out of this place, he wondered?
      He pushed the door open and peered inside. A tired old stripper was
gyrating on the bar for the benefit of the three old men seated there. As
horny as he was, the sight did nothing for him.
      "Can I help you, kid?" a gruff voice said from his left.
      Ezekiel looked into the face of the large man, who must be the
bouncer, and said, "Uh, yeah, you can," closing the door behind him, "
... gimme a scotch and milk."
      The man laughed and said, "Get the hell outta here, come back when
you can shave."
      After being unceremoniously evicted from Rico's, he realized that he
was much too young to get into any of these establishments. The thought
made him smile, though it did not solve his problem. He needed to get
laid. And he needed it now.
      Strolling further down the block, he arrived in unfamiliar
territory. In his day, Rico's was as far as he would go. The area that he
now strolled was known for being the underbelly of the sex
trade. Transvestites and those who appreciate them haunted the region. Men
cruised around in cars eager to scratch their secret itches. Pretty young
men and some not so pretty, lounged seductively against cars and street
lamps, equally eager to fill their pockets with green.
      Ezekiel made his way through all this, feeling slightly
uncomfortable; though the euphoric high that he was on kept it at bay. This
was an area that most neighborhood boys wouldn't be caught dead in, let
alone with their pants down. It was known as the `Beach', and it extended
for seven blocks ending deep inside the park. Deep inside the park( so deep
that it took some lusting souls an hour to find their way out. Ezekiel
wondered why they called it the `Beach'? It didn't have any sand. That fact
remained a mystery to him, though his strange attraction to the place was
not.
      As the Oak trees that lined the entrance to the park loomed ahead of
him, Ezekiel slowed his pace. An unusual feeling washed over him. It was
part fear, a little excitement, and a splash of intrigue. It was
electric. He felt alive again. The air was much sweeter to seventeen
year-old nostrils; and the night, much brighter. No matter what he did this
evening, he would enjoy it.
      But it wasn't just that. There was another reason why parts of his
anatomy were tingling with anticipation. He had never been here before,
though the spot had visited his most private thoughts more than once over
the years. Fear had kept him away then; fear of exposure. Fear had made him
live a life deprived of the freedom to explore. Fear had controlled him.
      As the muscles of his nubile body flexed beneath the baggy clothes, a
feeling of invincibility coursed through them. He felt that he had nothing
to fear now. No one knew him. His reputation would not be impugned if he
were seen walking the `Beach'. He was a total stranger, and there was a
certain freedom in that fact. This was something that he had always longed
to try, and now he had the courage to do it. Curiosity had him by the
balls.
      The park entrance rose in front of him and Ezekiel could see the
shadows dancing in the dark. Drifting from here to there and back again
... some alone and some in pairs ... phantoms up to `no-good'. He paused
cautiously for a moment, and then plunged into the gloom beneath the trees.
      His young eyes quickly adjusted to the scene, which was teeming with
subtle activity. Shadowy figures were drawn to one another, and almost
imperceptible groans and whispers seeped through the bushes as Ezekiel made
his maiden voyage through this strange new land. It was creepy, and yet,
irresistibly clandestine at the same time. He was like an explorer;
Christopher Columbus must have felt this way when he first laid eyes on the
Native Americans. Excited, yet cautious( fascinated, yet afraid. Wizened
faces approached him with lust in their eyes and lewd comments on their
lips. He moved quickly away. He wasn't looking for an old man.
      As he moved further along the path, more sad figures began to adjust
their positions, making their presence known to him. More old faces. Fat
bodies. They were invisible to him. He kept moving; trying to see all and
nothing at the same time.
      "Psssst," a youthful voice whispered.
      Ezekiel stopped and turned toward the tiny sound. As the sultry
summer breeze rustled the leaves, he noticed a thin figure of a young man
in the moonlight. His features were indistinguishable, though he appeared
to be somewhat naked. He gestured for `Zeke to follow and then dashed off
down a trail. With only a moment's hesitation, Ezekiel did just that.
      After a time, the trail led to a tiny dilapidated gazebo, so intruded
upon by tree branches that it was barely visible. The young man entered
easily, apparently having done it many times before, motioning once again
for Ezekiel to follow.
      There was a picnic table inside on which the young man had seated
himself. Ezekiel now noticed that he wasn't nude after all, just
shirtless. He wore shorts and sneakers with no socks. As he approached the
stranger slowly, he realized something else( he knew him.
      The kid popped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. In the orange
glow of the flame, Ezekiel confirmed his suspicions. It was the little
mousy boy ... Sonny's friend.
      He took a deep drag and exhaled before asking, "What's your name?"
      Ezekiel paused for a moment before saying, "I'm `Zeke."
      "I'm Malcolm, but everybody calls me `Little Man'. I've never seen
you around before, and you looked a little lost."
      "I'm OK."
      "You look scared."
      "I ain't."
      "So," Little Man continued between drags, " ... what are you doing
here? Are you lookin' to make some money?"
      "What?" Ezekiel was confused by the question, " ... no, I have my own
money. With all those men out there, what made you talk to me?"
      Little Man smiled, "I didn't see anyone else out there ... it was
just you and me."
      "Oh," Zeke said.
      "You're cute. Wanna fuck around?"
      Ezekiel shrugged his shoulders with his head hanging low. His face
was still shrouded in shadow, but as he moved closer, a thin band of
moonlight struck it.
      Little Man suddenly tensed. He squinted in the darkness and said,
"Sonny?"
      Ezekiel realized that he was not as anonymous as he'd thought. He had
forgotten that he did have his grandson's face. Or was it the other way
around?
      "No, I'm Zeke, ... Sonny's ... uh, cousin."
      Little Man uttered a sigh of obvious relief and leaned in closer to
get a better look.
      "Folks always gettin' us confused," Zeke continued, his voice low and
unsure. It seems that along with his vitality, the bashfulness of his youth
had returned. This part of his young adulthood he would like to do
without. It had taken him years the first time to overcome his painful
shyness. He had lost so many opportunities because of it.
      The tip of his cigarette glowed eerily as he scrutinized Zeke. Then
he said, "You talk funny. Where you from, man?"
      "Georgia," he responded honestly.
      "We don't say `folks' up here," Malcolm informed with authority, "
... in case you didn't notice. That's down south geechie talk. That'll get
your ass kicked up here. Don't say shit like `folks', ... say `my peeps'."
      "Peeps?"
      "Yeah, you know ... people." Malcolm flicked his cigarette into the
darkness and refocused his attentions on Zeke. "Come `ere," he reached out
and grabbed Zeke by the belt and pulled him close, " ... and your gear is
fucked up too. Look at this shit you're wearin' nigger, you lucky you
survived this long. I know my boy Sonny didn't let you come out of the
house lookin' like that?"
      "Don't call me that."
      "Don't call you what?'
      "Nigger, ... don't call me nigger. I don't like it." It was common
knowledge to everyone, even the elderly Ezekiel, that the dirty little word
had in recent years become somewhat of a term of endearment amongst certain
members of the community. However, he did not subscribe to its use, having
lived through a time when it carried much more venom.
      Little man laughed and dismissed the subject. "You really need to get
into the nineties, kid. Nobody cares about that shit no more. Are you
really Sonny's cousin? You ain't nothin' like him."
      Zeke did not respond.
      "But you do look like him though." Little Man pulled him face to
face. His eyes slowly scanned Zeke's features from top to bottom and then
back again. A slight grin appeared.
      Zeke was beginning to feel uncomfortable, though he did not attempt
to break the firm grip that Little Man had on his belt. He ignored the
question, or maybe he did not hear it at all as he looked into the face of
his grandson's best friend. Even in this dark setting, his restored vision
could truly see the boy for the first time. Features that had appeared to
be nerdy and mouse-like to his former ancient eyes now seemed to be
chiseled and exotic.
      "Hello," Little Man prodded, " ... are you in there?" He pulled on
the belt to elicit a response. When he did this, his knee touched Zeke's
groin. It throbbed.
      Little Man pretended not to notice, "Where's Sonny now?" he asked.
      "He's uh, ... he's home." Zeke's discomfort was growing, and a weird
sense of disconnection began to envelop him. Thoughts of Rachel whispered
through his brain. Certainly this was not what she had in mind when she
restored his youth. Her intentions had to have been nobler than that. Then
he heard her voice.
      `Sonny will know.'
      What the hell did she mean by that? He had assumed that he was
brought back to puberty so that he could watch over Sonny. Was this a
heavenly test that he was on the verge of failing miserably? Was she
watching him now? Was there an entire circle of white-robed beings staring
at him through a large crystal ball? Would she see him do what he was
thinking of doing with this young man? No answers were forthcoming, though
a chill flashed through his body making him quiver.
      "Relax," Little Man soothed.
      Zeke continued to tremble like the seventeen-year-old virgin he now
was. He suddenly wanted to run, but knew that he would not. The scene was
so terribly erotic. All his years of experience had told him that ignoring
desire only made it fester, polluting the mind.
      If Rachel truly knew what he had been thinking as he sat by the
window, then his actions would not come as a shock to her. She had given
him back his vitality and virility, and aside from the obvious good that
could be derived from this blessing, there was a steamier side. He had not
sown his oats in over twenty years and they were dangerously overripe. Any
second now he was liable to explode all over the place. Even the vision of
a Heavenly counsel watching over him at that very moment could not stop it.
      "Don't be scared, I don't bite," Little Man teased. "Sonny wouldn't
be scared. He's smarter than that ... he'd know what to do."
      "I told you I'm OK," Zeke managed to say( but he was far from OK. He
could not get past the feeling that he was an eighty-year-old man about to
`diddle' a teenager(one of his grandson's friends at that. It left a bad
taste in his mouth.
      The most frightening part of it however, was that he knew he was
going to do it anyway. His sexual desire, which had been lethargic to say
the least, had suddenly come back to life with pubescent abandon. He could
not deny his needs. Not this time around. Rachel must have known that too.
      "Yo," Little Man stated as he unbuckled Zeke's belt, " ... we're
wasting time. I could have made fifty bucks off those old fags out there in
the time we've been talkin'. Let's do this. I like to get a real nut before
I go to work."
      "OK," Zeke replied weakly. "I thought you didn't see anyone else out
there?" He could not stop trembling.
      Little Man looked into his eyes and asked, "All I see is their
money. Is this your first time?"
      Zeke made a head movement that was a cross between a `yes' and a `no'
gesture.
      Little Man laughed at his stiffness, while his hand grasped Zeke by
the manhood. The oversized pants slipped quietly to the ground as Zeke was
overcome by a wave of lust that made his head spin. It was the first time
in eighty years that another man had touched him there. He wanted to
scream. In fact, a little while later ... he did.