Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2005 12:58:14 -0500
From: joseph green <grassofhome@hotmail.com>
Subject: Snowflakes Ablaze

Donny had touched Clarks penis.  It was enough .  Long lonely nights with
the urge to pull at his boyhood and no one to fantasize about.  But now...
now things were different.  Donny had touched it.

He hadn't really touched it.  He had brushed it with the back of his hand.
But that was fine.  It was enough.  He now had a friend.  Maybe a boyfriend?

It wasn't a proper full handed feel but instead it was a gentle glancing
brush as he reached for the bottle.

Other guys had friends.  Donny had Clark; and only Clark.  Other guys
enjoyed the luxury of a father that would tote them around the city to
various sporting events but Donny had a father that was a good provider.

Some guys had fathers that would stay up past bed time under the security
light learning how to catch a baseball or pass a football of kick a soccer
ball, but Donny had a father that was always about man things like mowing
the lawn or napping.

Donny could do a few things with his dad.  He had made the best eggs in the
world once.  He knew this because once he had fried two over easy eggs for
his dad and not broken the yokes.  His dad said, "These are the best eggs in
the world."  and gave his mother a kiss.  When Donny's mother explained to
him that Donny had cooked he whispered to him.  "Good eggs boy, but I don't
want you doing sissy things again." But he had made the worlds best eggs.
That's what his dad said.

On Monday mornings other boys stood around talking about staying up late to
see the last inning of the baseball game but Donny did not have cable TV nor
was he interested in a game he did not understand.  On Tuesdays in the
autumn the same boys would talk about football or soccer.  Donny would stand
by the tree at the bus stop and just listen; trying his best to decode this
odd language.  Maybe one day he could engage one of his friends with a good
insight in the game or a brand new unknown fact about a player.  That would
be a glorious day.  That day would probably never come. But he could make
eggs and he did touch Clarks penis.

The only other thing Clark's dad had ever said that cold be construed as a
complement was during what came to be know as  "the sex talk".  his dad
stopped n the middle of pointing out the necessities of marriage when he
said, "just because you have a bigger Johnson than other kids your age does
not mean you have to use it.  If you get a girl pregnant don't even bother
coming home.  That's what my dad told me and that's why I married your mom
ten years ago."

Donny had latched on to that bit of information.  He had a big Johnson.  He
tucked that tit bit away for future use.  He was already thinking about
summer at the pool and how he could buy a Speedo and trade it for his
jammers.  If he was really that big he might earn attention by showing it
off in an acceptable way.  But summer was months away.

It was a cold March day as Donny walked along River Front street on his way
to the coffee shop for his father.  He repeated to himself, "black,
Columbian, one sugar".

Donny had met Clark the day before on the playground.  He was new in Miss
Shackers class.  He had to leave Miss Hoggans class because of constant
fighting and disturbances.  His desk was right next to mine.  Front and
center of the class.  Donny liked being here where he cold be called on for
quick answers and where everyone could see that he was their.  Sometimes
when you go a few days without another student it might feel like your not
there at all.  But not Donny.  Even if he didn't speak to another kid he
spoke to the teacher.  That was enough.

A few snow flakes fell as Donny made his way to Kirk's Coffees.  It occur to
Donny that March snowflakes are born with a certain urgency.  What he did
not suspect was that the innocence of early adolescent boys had the same
urgency. They both seemed to melt away all too soon.  Donny did not know it
yet but his innocence was about to go down in flames.

Clark came up behind Donny.  Clark recognized the beige Hurrly hoody Donny
had worn all week to school and even with the hood still up he jumped on
Donny's back and said, "Ride `em cowboy."  Donny was not sure who it was but
out of need for a real friend, instinct and desperation he obeyed the
command and galloped right past the coffee store.

He let his arms go limp so his rider could slump off.  It was Clark.  It was
amazing how his face looked so grown up.  For an eleven year old boy his jaw
was chiseled and his dark eyebrows were thin and tight.  His deep blue eyes
were close set and his short cropped brown hair hid under his own army-green
hoody.