School sucked. School really didn't suck, but some of the stuff that went on at school sucked. Some of it was pretty good. Like my friend Denny. He was the foster son of Kevin and Rick, the two nicest guys in America, and I really liked Denny.
What did suck were two assholes at school by the names of Brad and Stanley. They were both big bruisers compared to me, and every day they either said something mean to me and Denny, or they pushed us around. It sort of started the first day.
I was in my first period class, and both of them were in there with me. I was sitting in the back, which really wasn't a good place for me because it was hard to see the board over all those bigger people, but that was the only seat I could find. They were both in about the middle of the room, like, maybe, three seats ahead of me but off to my left. That classroom had tables in it that sat two people each, and they were sitting together. They would whisper to each other, turn around and look at me, and then laugh. They kept doing that all period. It made me madder than hell, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.
When the bell rang, they got up and left right away. Good, I thought. At least they won't mess with me in the hall.
The second day they were waiting for me outside the classroom before class started. I saw them as I walked down the hall. I got this big knot in my stomach because I figured they wanted to do something to me. Why do they hate me, I thought. I had never done or said anything bad about them.
"Where's your fag friend," Brad asked me.
"Fuck you," I said.
"Is he fucking you, or are you fucking him? Or both," Stanley said.
"I'll bet they're sucking each other's cocks, if the midget here has one Danny can even find," Brad said.
"His name is Denny, not Danny, and we're not doing anything," I said.
"Don't knock him up, stud," Stanley said.
Jesus! Denny's not real macho, but he's not really a sissy, either. I know Denny's gay, but so what? He's just a nice guy, and I'm proud he's my friend.
The third day of school, Brad "accidentally" bumped into me at my locker. Then Stanley "accidentally" bumped into Denny at his locker. His was still closed, and he smashed his face into it.
"You all think you're hot shit because that fag Kyle Goodson brings you to school, don't you? Well, I've got news for you. Nobody likes his queer ass or that fruit Tim Murphy he hangs around with, either," Brad said.
"Tell me that when you're elected president of the fucking school, Brad," I said. I was so pissed off I was seeing red.
"Just ignore them," Denny said.
"How can I ignore them, man? They piss me off every single day," I said.
"Chip, please don't get in trouble. You know what Kyle told us," Denny said.
That kind of shit went on for the first two weeks of school. I never felt safe or at ease there. I never knew when they were going to come out of nowhere and do something. It was making me jumpy all the time, and it was making Denny jumpy, too.
The last straw was during the pep rally on the Friday of the second week of school. That night was our first home football game of the season, and that was the first pep rally I had ever gone to in my life. I had looked forward to it all week because I had heard they were so much fun. The school band was there and the cheerleaders and everybody. Kyle was the MC.
Kyle whipped everybody up big time. He told us that whenever we heard the word "Marlin," we all had to stand up and scream "splash." He had done the same thing at the freshman orientation before school started, and I had had fun doing that. Denny and I were on the stage with him for that, and I was so damn proud of Kyle. I was proud of him at that pep rally, too. He told two or three jokes, and he said "Marlin" in every one of them. The jokes were funny, and screaming out "splash" was fun, too.
There were cheers by the cheerleaders. They taught a couple of them to us, and then we practiced them. The band played the fight song, and Kyle led us in singing it. That boy could sing. Kyle introduced the captain of the team, and he and that boy hugged each other before the captain boy introduced the others.
About half-way through, I felt a flick on both my ears. At first I thought the guy back of me had slipped or something. I looked behind me, and there was Brad. Stanley was right behind Denny, who was sitting next to me on my left. For the rest of that pep rally, they didn't give either one of us a minute's peace. They hadn't been there when Denny and I took those seats. I had spotted them about ten rows up from us, so I figured we wouldn't be bothered by them. They had moved, though.
"Denny, I'm telling Kyle about those two," I said, once the pep rally was over.
"What can Kyle do," Denny asked.
"I don't know if he can do anything, but those two are picking on you and me. He told me to tell him if that happened, so I'm going to."
The first chance I had to talk to Kyle in private was Tuesday afternoon after school. He and I were working out in the gym by ourselves. I told him what had been going on, and he asked me to point them out to him at the bus place the next morning.
I don't know what Kyle said or did to them, but it seemed to solve the problem. After that morning, they just ignored me and Denny, and that was fine. Brad even loaned me a pen in class when I forgot to bring one. It was like a miracle or something. Nobody else picked on me or Denny, and school stopped sucking so bad.
Brad's Perspective
Chip Rooney is a little prick, and I mean that in every way. Really, it's not him. It's his dad. My older brother has a problem with alcohol, and I know that. He gets drunk a lot, like every day. He was working at the Sheraton Laguna Hotel as a bellhop, and Rooney's father fired his ass for drinking on the job. He probably did drink on the job. He says he didn't, but he drinks all the rest of the time, so why doubt that? The problem was, he was the only one working in our house. It was just him, me, and our mom. We were already getting welfare, and I was getting free meals at school, but the money he brought in helped a lot.
I didn't have anything against Chip. He was tiny, but so what? It was his dad I hated. I hated my brother, too, though. Shit!
Kyle Goodson scared the shit out of me. He told me and Stanley, who came from another looser family, to report cases of picking on people to him. He said his other people were doing the same thing. I got scared. Kyle was a fag, and everybody knew it. But he had a lot of friends, and not just queers, either. A lot. What was this world coming to? Anyway, I decided to lighten up on Chip. I didn't really like doing that shit to him, anyway, and I knew it wasn't going to get my brother's job back. Hell, he had taken off, and we didn't know where he was.
When Kyle made us say that guys who pick on others are mean pricks, I felt kind of ashamed. I didn't want to be that kind of guy because that was what my brother was.
Stanley's Perspective
I didn't know why Brad had it in for Chip Rooney and his friend Denny. They might have been fags, but I didn't know for sure. If they were fags, it might have been alright to rough them up, but I didn't know why that made it alright. Then Kyle Goodson talked to us, and I knew right away he had our number. He was big, and he had a lot of friends who were big, too. He also had an organization at that school, and I didn't want to be on the receiving end of what they could do to you.
"He knows what we've been doing to Chip and that other guy," I told Brad.
"I know. I'm quitting doing that from now on," Brad said.
"Yeah, me, too. Let's skip today," I said.
"Naw. I'm hungry. Let's go get some breakfast in the cafeteria," Brad said.
"Okay."
That was it.
Justin's Perspective
Going to college wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I liked both of my teachers, and they seemed to like me okay, too, especially my English teacher. I knew it was bound to happen, though, and there it was staring me in the face, as big as life. A test.
"You guys know we have a test in American history coming up, don't you," Alex said to me, Cody, and Paul one morning before class. We were all outside smoking.
"When is it," I asked.
It was hot as hell even though it was early in the morning, and I was already sweating a little bit. Hearing that made my sweat glands gush, and my pits started dripping. I got this little knot in my stomach, too.
"It's next Monday," Alex said.
"How'd you hear about it," I asked.
"It's on the syllabus," Alex said.
"Oh," I said.
He meant that paper the teacher had given out the first day. I hadn't really read it too careful, but at least I knew I still had it and where it was. Or I thought I did.
"It's multiple guess and two short essays," Cody said.
I didn't know what that meant. I knew what an essay was, sort of, because we had to write one every week in English, but I had no idea what "multiple guess" meant. I didn't want to show my total ignorance in front of Paul. I mean, he was a nice guy and I liked him and all, but he didn't know a thing about me.
That night I asked Brian if he knew what multiple guess meant.
He chuckled when I asked him. "It's really multiple choice, Buddy. The teacher writes a question and gives you three or four or five choices. You just have to pick out the right answer."
"Give me an example of what you mean," I said.
He quick wrote out a question.
"The first president was
A. Abe Lincoln
B. Bill Clinton
C. George Washington
D. George Bush"
"The right answer is George Washington," I said.
"Right. The correct answer is C."
"How can it be C," I asked. "It's George Washington."
"I know, but you would mark C because that stands for George Washington," Brian said.
"Phew! This is complicated," I said.
Brian got tickled by just about anything I said, and he laughed when I said that. He was so damn cute.
"Jus, baby, let's see if Kyle has an old American history test from last year so you can see what it looks like," he said.
When Kyle came over later that night, Brian asked him if he had an old test. I knew what the answer to that was going to be.
"An old test? Why would I have an old test," Kyle said. "What are you doing? Playing school?"
Brian laughed.
"You don't keep old tests," Bri asked.
"Hell, no. The less contact I have with those things, the better," Kyle said.
Timmy had been sitting there listening to that.
"I have one, Bri. In fact, I just got it back today. Let me go get it for you," Tim said.
Tim scampered upstairs and came back with some papers. He gave them to Bri. One of them had questions on it, and the other one had these little round marks. He had colored in some of those.
"This is the answer sheet," Brian said, showing me this strip of paper that had all the circles on it. "Here are the questions. You read the question and the answers, pick out the best answer, and then color in the bubble that matches up to it."
"The bubble?"
"Yeah. These little things on the answer sheet. Those are called bubbles. Sometimes they say 'bubble in the answer,'" Brian said.
"How are you supposed to know this stuff," I asked.
"You learn it in school, dumbass," Kyle said. He started rubbing my shoulder. I knew he was just doing that to show me he cared about me.
"Phew! I don't know," I said. "This sure is a lot to know just to take a test."
"Yeah, and that ain't even the information the test is on," Kyle said. "Didn't you take any tests in adult school?"
"Yeah, but you just clicked on the screen." Then I saw the light. "This ain't much different than that, is it? Only with this you have to mark in the little circles."
"Exactly, Bubba," Kyle said. "Way to use that ole noggin," he said.
"Don't make me have to whip your ass," I said to Kyle, joking. He laughed.
"Are you and Alex and Cody going to study together," Brian asked.
"I don't know," I said. "Is it good to do that?"
"I recommend it," Kyle said. "Especially since you missed a couple of classes when we went to Birmingham. Did you get notes from those days?"
"Not yet," I said.
Alex came into the room.
"Justin needs your notes from the days he missed history class," Kyle said to Alex.
"Sure," Alex said. "Do you want to study with Cody and me, Jus?"
"That would absolutely save my life," I said.
It was Wednesday night, and the test was the following Monday. The professor said he would answer questions about it on Friday. They weren't going to study until Sunday night, but I figured I needed a head start, so I got busy right then.
The session went good Sunday night, and it turned out I knew the stuff better than the other two. I had read the book twice, or at least the parts that were going to be on the test, and I had gone over my notes a few times. Alex gave me his notes, but they weren't all that good, to tell you the truth. I fleshed them out a little from what was in the book, though.
I didn't sleep good Sunday night. For one thing, we didn't finish studying until almost midnight. For another thing, I was pretty nervous about taking the test. I got up early, though. I left at my usual time, and, wouldn't you know it, there was a damn accident on the bridge. So instead of having a few minutes to relax and smoke when I got to school, I was almost late.
The test was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. I left a couple of questions blank, but I thought I got most of the rest of the others right. When the professor gave us back the papers, I had gotten a B+. I was so happy I almost cried.
Kyle's Perspective
At Beachside High School we have several traditions. One tradition is that SGA is in charge of Homecoming. Senior Class does the Christmas Ball, Junior Class does the prom, Sophomore Class does Sadie Hawkins, and Freshman Class don't do shit. Homecoming is the biggest deal of all of that, and I was in charge of it.
Believe it or not, we had begun having organizational meetings of the officers in the summer before school started. Homecoming was the second weekend in October, so we didn't waste any time getting that bad boy organized when school took in. The major committees were Parade, Bonfire/Fish Fry, and Dance/Court. The parade and football game were on Friday. The bonfire/fish fry was Thursday, and the dance was Saturday. I was on all three committees, but I was only the chairman of one. The Dance/Court committee.
The biggest pain in the ass was the court. Each club nominated a girl to be their candidate. It was up to the club to decide how they were going to do that, and most of them had elections at one of their meetings. If a club, such as the basketball team, didn't have any girls, they still got to nominate a candidate. The guys in the court were all seniors chosen on the basis of rank in class. At least I didn't have that to worry about. The whole school elected the Queen and the first four runners-up were the court. They announced the court at the bonfire and the Queen at the dance. Whichever guy was the escort of the Queen became the King.
We had committee meetings at night because a lot of people had jobs in the afternoon after school. Starting the day after Labor Day, I had a meeting of some kind almost every night. Those were fun at first, but they got old after a while. Monday night was Dance/Court, Tuesday night was Parade, and Wednesday night was Bonfire/Fish Fry. On Thursday night I went to church for instructions on learning about becoming a Catholic, and on Friday night I usually went to the football game. The games were at our stadium if we were the home team or in town at the big stadium if we were the away team playing another local team. We also had two out-of-county games, and I went to one of those. I was busy.
I got into a major throw-down on the dance committee over whether same-sex couples could come as dates. I personally didn't give a shit, but a few years before the Gay-Straight Alliance had pitched a fit about it so it had become another tradition that every year a handful of same-sex couples came as dates. Tim had already told me that he didn't want us to go as dates, and that was fine with me. We were going to go in a mixed group, which is what a lot of people did, anyway. This girl was dead-set against same-sex couples, though, and she brought her preacher, who looked like he was a kid himself, to the meeting to lend her moral support.
I had gotten a heads-up on this deal from Miss Sally, the principal. Evidently, the preacher had been pestering her about it.
"Don't cave on this, Kyle," she told me in her office.
"No, ma'am, I won't," I said.
"We had a referendum on this four years ago, and, by God, that referendum stands," she said.
"What does that mean," I asked.
"A vote. We put it to a vote of the student body, and same-sex couples won," she said.
"Was I here then," I asked. I didn't remember anything like that.
"No, you were still in eighth grade, but Clay was here then," she said.
"How did he vote," I asked.
"I don't know how he voted, Kyle. What difference does it make?"
It made a big difference to me, given the fact that he was gay but not out to his own gay brother, me, who was out to the family. I still had a problem with the way he had handled that whole thing about coming out, but that was personal.
"None, I guess," I said.
"Anyway, if and when it comes up, tell them you discussed it with me and I said same-sex couples are a tradition at major dances at this school. Any dance, for that matter," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," I said.
"Make sure you follow parliamentary procedure to the letter, hear? Don't let the meeting turn into a free-for-all."
"Do you think GSA will be there," I asked.
"I know they will be. I looked at the list of the people on the dance committee, and at least six of them are in GSA," she said.
Later that day I told my friend Philip about my conversation with Miss Sally. He was on the committee, and he didn't know about the vote, either. He said he was definitely coming to that meeting.
That committee met on Monday night, and, of course, Monday was one of the nights I had my English class at the college. The class was from five to 6:30, and it would take me twenty minutes to get back to school. That's if the bridge was clear. That particular night it was clear, and it was a good thing, too. I was pretty nervous about what might happen.
I started the meeting with the minutes from the previous week. They had to be amended because the committee secretary was a dumbass and had forgotten to include a motion that had been passed about balloons. After that we took up old business, then new business.
"I would like to make a motion that the dance be limited to opposite-sex couples only," Meredith said.
"Is there a second," I asked.
"I second the motion," the preacher said.
"You can't second a motion," I said.
"Son, I certainly can, and I second it in the name of Jesus!" he said.
"No, you can't do that," I said.
"And why not," Meredith demanded.
"Because he's not a voting member of this committee," I said.
"Oh. Well, okay, then, I second the motion," Meredith said.
"You can't second your own motion, Meredith," I said.
"Are you sure about that, Kyle," Meredith asked. "Whose rule is that? Yours?"
"Basic parliamentary procedure, Mer," I said.
"Well, somebody second the motion," she said.
There, in the back of the room, was my very close, life-long friend, Philip Andrews. Queer as a three-dollar bill, and just as full of devilment as he could be. That was probably why we liked each other so much. He put up his hand, his eyes and his cute little smile broadcasting just what he was fixing to do to get my goat.
"Philip," I said, calling on him to speak. If you second this motion, I'm going to cut your balls off, I thought.
"Never mind," he said, grinning.
"I want to talk to you after this meeting," I said. He started laughing. He knew.
Finally, one of her friends woke up or something, and seconded the motion.
"Any discussion," I asked.
Well, there was plenty. I told them each person could speak for two minutes but only after I recognized them. There would be no shouting out and no interrupting other people. I might as well have told them there would be no breathing during the discussion, for all the good that did. I did have to pound my gavel several times to get people to shut up when they went too long.
Philip raised his hand, and I called on him.
"The fact is, guys, it's out of our hands. There was a vote of the students when this year's seniors were in the eighth grade, and the issue of same-sex couples won. I don't think this committee has the authority to go against a vote," he said.
I could have hugged him.
The SGA sponsor came into the meeting right before he said that. Where the hell have you been, I thought.
"He's right, Kyle. You can't entertain a motion that goes against a referendum of the student body. Only another referendum can change that," she said.
"So what do I do," I asked.
"Strike the motion," she said.
"Y'all heard her. The motion is struck," I said, and I slammed down the gavel. "Any other new business," I asked.
Nobody said anything.
"There being no further new business, the meeting is adjourned. Same time next week," I said, and I hit the gavel one more time.
Philip came up to me after the meeting, grinning his damn face off.
"You were fixing to second that damn motion, weren't you," I asked him, laughing with him.
"I love to see your ass squirm, Kyle. But you handled that good, buddy. Gimme a smoke," he said.
"Mine are in my car," I said.
"Never mind, I got some out there, too," he said.
"Were you going to smoke in the school," I asked.
"No, just walking out to my car," he said.
"I swear, Philip, you're about the baddest boy I know," I said.
"Next to you," he said.
"Let's go get something to eat. I haven't eaten since lunch," I said. It was almost ten o'clock, and I was hungry.
"Okay," he said. "I'll follow you. Where?"
"Let's go to Pelican's," I said.
We met up at Pelican's Roost, our favorite bar and grill, and we ordered "trashburgers." That was their specialty, and all it was was a hamburger with some of whatever they happened to have in the kitchen that night. It was different every time. That particular night it had chili, beef stew, and sausage, in addition to the hamburger patty. It was damn good, too.
"You ain't heard the last of this business," Philip said.
"What do you mean," I asked.
"That preacher guy was pretty serious, Kyle. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes an issue out of it. If not for Homecoming, for Christmas Ball or Sadie Hawkins or prom, one," he said.
"Well, at least I don't have to fool with the rest of that shit," I said.
"True," he said. "How do they go about having a referendum," he asked.
"I don't know," I said.
"You'd best be finding out, young-un," he said. "Are you and Tim going to the dance?"
"Yeah, dummy. We're going with you and Ryan and the others," I said.
"I knew that. Hey, you want to get a limo for it?"
"Yeah, I guess we could do that. I think my parents would feel better if they knew I wasn't going to be driving," I said.
"Mine actually suggested it," he said. "It would be about forty bucks apiece. This is just for after the dance. We go out to eat and then to the dance, and then we all go back to your house to change. He picks us up, and we party for three or four hours. How does that sound?"
"I like it," I said. "I have to wear a damn tux that night."
"Yeah, 'cause you da man," he said.
"I'm going to be ready to kick back, too, after this fucker is over," I said.
"Are you having fun doing all of this, Kyle," he asked.
"Yeah, I really am. Tim and I have turned into morning people almost all the time now, though," I said.
"You guys pretty much live together, don't you," he said.
"Yeah, pretty much. He's at my house with my parents right now," I said. "He'll be asleep by the time I get home, though."
"I don't want to keep you from your man, Kyle," he said.
"Philip, you and I have been friends our whole lives, son, and I don't spend enough time with you as it is. I miss you, buddy, you know?"
"I miss you, too. Did you know I was gay before we did Tim's Eagle project," he asked.
"Fuck, no. Did you know I was before then?"
"Fuck, no," he said, and we laughed.
"Do you think it would have been different if we had known about each other, like when we were in middle school or something," he asked.
"I think it definitely would have been different. I love you, Philip. I always have and I always will," I said.
"But as a friend, right? Or a brother or something like that?"
"Yeah, now, but it could have been more than that, you know?"
"For me, too, Kyle. For me, too," he said.
"Are you and Ryan doing okay," I asked.
"Oh, yeah. We're doing great. He and I will be together for the rest of our lives," he said. "What about you and Tim?"
"The same. We've never really talked like this before, have we," I said.
"No, but I'm loving it right now," he said. "Hey, I forgot to say congratulations."
"That was a mistake," I said. "No way is that right."
He was talking about me being named a semi-finalist in the National Merit Scholar competition. The scores had come in over the weekend, and they had announced at school that day that me and five other people were semi-finalists. He and seven others had been named "commended students."
"No way is that wrong, Kyle. I've always thought you were smarter than me," he said.
"So how come I don't get the grades you get," I asked.
"Because you don't study, and you don't really care about grades," he said.
"I care," I said.
"You care if you pass, but you don't care if you make a B or a C, much less an A. I care a lot about that, and so does Ryan," he said. "I know all the Emerald Beach bullshit about 'I'm dumber than you, and I can prove it.' You do it, and I do it, too. That's the way we were raised, and that's the way our daddies were raised. I guess it's in our blood or something. But you know what the bottom line is, Kyle? We're both pretty fucking smart."
"Shhhhhh. Don't say that too loud," I whispered.
He laughed.
"We're smart, we're cute, and we've got big dicks," he said.
"Cute and big dicks. That's what I'm all about," I said.
He laughed hard, and I did, too.
"Jesus Christ! It's almost 11:30," he said. "We need to get our asses home."
"Philip, this has been so good, man. We need to get together more often," I said.
"Let's do it every Monday night after the meeting till Homecoming," he said.
"You're on, dude."
* * *
My dad was still up watching the post-game show for Monday Night Football when I got home. He was the only one around, though.
"Hey, Daddy," I said when I went into the den. I kissed him on his forehead like I always did, and he swatted my butt, like he always did.
"How was the meeting? You're home late," he said.
"Yeah, me and Philip went to get something to eat," I said. "The meeting was pretty rough."
"Somebody called here for you tonight. The Reverend Ike Hightower. Do you know him," he asked.
"Yes, sir. He was at the meeting tonight. The big thing was about not allowing same-sex couples to come as dates to the dance. He was there to second the motion, in the name of Jesus," I said.
My dad laughed his ass off. I had said "Jesus" as three syllables the way the Reverend had.
"Did it pass?"
"No, sir. Turns out, it was an illegal motion because of a vote they had a few years ago, so I had to strike it," I said.
"I remember when all of that was going on. It was over the prom, though, not Homecoming," he said.
"I didn't know anything about it, but Miss Sally gave me a heads-up," I said.
"She called me the other day," he said.
"About me?"
"No, not about you. Well, not directly about you, anyway. She wants to start a local chapter of PFLAG, and she wants me to co-found it with her," he said.
"What is that," I asked.
"Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays," he said. "It's kind of like a support group, more or less."
"Are you going to do it," I asked.
"I told her I would join, but I'm not going to take any kind of leadership role in that until you and Tim are happily in college somewhere," he said.
"Why not," I asked.
"Son, I know you and Tim are out all over the place, and your mother and I are proud of you boys for that. But we're not going to do anything to call attention to the fact that you all are gay as long as you live here. I know my redneck brethren in this county too well to risk that," he said.
"I was surprised it didn't come up tonight," I said. "I was ready for it."
"Are you and Tim going to the Homecoming dance?"
"Yes, sir, but not as dates. I mean, we will be each other's date. I ain't going home with anybody but him, but we're going in a group. Boys and girls."
"People have been doing that in Emerald Beach for decades, Son. The only date I ever had for a major dance in high school was my senior prom, and I can't even remember who she was. I think groups of friends have a lot more fun," he said.
"Yes, sir, I think so, too. I had a lot of fun at the Junior-Senior Prom last year in a group," I said.
"Some guys get laid on prom night," he said. "I didn't, but I wanted to."
"I did," I said.
He laughed.
"You stinker," he said.
"Dad, Philip had the idea of renting a limo for after the dance. We'd get everybody to come over here to change, and then the limo driver would pick us up here. What do you think?"
"I think that's a great idea. Philip didn't think of that, though. His parents did, didn't they?"
"How did you know that," I asked.
"'Cause I've known his daddy since we were little kids, and 'cause his daddy's daddy knew my daddy since they were young men. We've got deep roots, Kyle. Are you beginning to pick up on that?"
"Yes, sir, I am," I said.
"I think the limo idea is a good one. I know you boys are going to have some drinks, and, you know, I did the same thing. The difference is, I took my life in my hands and drove home," he said.
"Daddy, can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can, Son. You know that."
"Yeah, I do. Did you ever jump off the bridge? Out of the back of a pickup truck?"
"Kyle, that's an incredibly dangerous thing to do," he said.
"Did you do it?"
"Twice."
"Me, too. Twice."
"Jesus Christ, Kyle! Were you scared?"
"Yes, sir. I shit my pants the first time," I said. "I thought I was going to hit a light post."
"So did I! Was your brother with you?"
"Yes, sir. Both times," I said.
Tears were streaming down his face, but I knew he was happy.
"That's a manhood rite of passage here in Emerald Beach, son. Both of my boys did it! Goddamn!"
"Yes, sir, we did it," I said. "I'm not ever doing it again, though."
"No! Don't you dare do it again," he said.
We both laughed hard. We hugged hard, too.
"That new bridge they're building makes it too hard anymore," I said.
"Kyle, as far as I know, only a handful have ever been seriously hurt doing that, and boys here have been doing it for many years," he said.
"It's just too tempting to resist," I said.
"I know. But let's let it quit with your generation, okay? It's way too dangerous," he said.
"Yes, sir. I need to get to sleep, Daddy," I said.
"Me, too. Kyle, good night, baby," he said, and he kissed me on the cheek.
"Good night, Daddy. I love you," I said.
"I love you, too, Son."