Scene 7

Lindsay is just hanging around. Wandering around alone. Nothing to do. Bored. Lonely. Lost. Some kids are playing cards over by the Circus tent. He cautiously goes over. Gang of 5 or 6 kids gather. Slapping down cards and generally cutting up. Brian, noticing Lindsay lingering in the distance, asks him if he wants to play. Lindsay inches closer. “Yea, sure.” A bully, on of the ‘three enforcers’, steps in, “we don’t want him around here, he’s a squealer, a thief, a spy…” The other kids chime in, “a kiss face, a pervert, a Mommas’ boy. “Come on,” motions Brian who looks embarrassed on behalf of Lindsay. “Let him alone.” But the Bully, joined by others, wins out and Brian relents. He gives Lindsay an apologetic look and turns back to the game. They continue to taunt and laugh as they return to their cards.

Lindsay feels like screaming or fighting or crying. None of these desires take preeminence however as he just stands there stunned. Numb, like not totally in his body. He looks down in muffled silence. Finally, he walks off feeling hurt but refusing to show even the slightest sign, knowing that would certainly spell doom. As he nears the corner of the tent, Lindsay makes a condescending remark under his breath, “Puke breath, ass wipes”. Wolf sees the spectacle in the distance and trots along besides him as he flees. He seems to intuitively sense Lindsay’s sadness.

Back at the Gang bang, Sweetie reprimands them, “You guys are really mean.” Bully defends nonchalantly, “The kid’s a rat, everyone knows it …” Another kid, wrinkles up his nose, “and he’s weird too.” A freckled faced, red hair kid chants, “and he’s stinky!” They all snicker and snort. Lindsay is still within ear shot. Their rejection and words of scorn are like arrows into his heart. He keeps back the tears, not wanting them to win yet another victory. He ducks behind the tent and wipes back his tears. Wolf looks up at him and wags his tail vigorously. Lindsay steels himself to further weakness, pats Wolf gingerly and rushes away.

Lindsay goes back to the trailer. Agnes and Butch are talking. Not fucking for a change. Agnes greets him. Lindsay just shrugs his shoulders and continues silently, sullenly back to his room. Plays lifelessly with his toys. Picks up a book, quickly bored. He is restless. Throws the book at the heap of clothes strewn in the corner. Finally, Lindsay pulls out one of his secret stashes. This collection of personal treasures were kept in an old gray knapsack. All of these particular items he had stolen or found over the previous year or so… Favorite pin-ups. Jewelry. Toys. Special rocks. He pulls out several well worn copies of Penthouse and Playboy. Repeating a familiar ritual, he carefully fingers the slick pages, flipping to his favorite poses marked by dog-eared pages… a welcomed  and familiar escape from the aching torment.

Back in the Dining room Butch insists, “You talk to the kid, then.” Agnes starts to object, then yields, “O.K., I’ll try.” Butch rises and quickly exits. The door clicks shut. Angus obligingly focuses down the hall, “Lindsay, come here.” Through his closed door Lindsay mutters. “I’m busy.” Agnes more assertively, “Lindsay, I said come here! I want to talk to you.” Lindsay hides his special shit under his blanket and begrudgingly slinks out. He looks around. Noticing Butch is absent he assures himself, Good! just me and Mom.

As usual, Agnes is chain smoking with a pack of replacements ready at hand. Her refillable drink, typically Vodka, clutched unconsciously in her other hand. Vodka is the drink of preference because it can’t be smelled on the breath and looks like water to the casual viewer. Today, Lindsay observes, she’s wearing her see-through black nightie, cloaked by her pink, fluffy robe. Lindsay is uncomfortable but stimulated by the sight. She pats the couch beside her motioning for him to come over and sit down. She acts especially friendly & affectionate to Lindsay. He enjoys these rare moments. Lindsay relaxes and takes comfort in the warmth of her attention. He lays his head on her chest and snuggles. Agnes strokes his head gently, from his forehead backwards. The tension slowly flows out of his body. Her naked warmth feels so good against his cheek. He gazes at the shapely contours of her breasts, stomach, pussy and thighs. She sits with her legs crossed. Her bathrobe conspicuously open.

He mumbles. “I don’t like it here. Don’t like the kids. Don’t like the traveling.” Agnes, continuing to stroke his head, “You’re just smarter and more adult then they are. They’re jealous. That’s all.” Lindsay sighs deeply. She continues to console, “You don’t need them… You’ve always gotten along a lot better with adults anyway.” Lindsay feels like weeping. How I wish I could pour out my heart and soul to her and have her save me from this pain, this life… He knows instinctively though that such outpouring would breach an unspoken rule. In the end he had to take care of himself. Now and forever. Better not to rock the boat. Best to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

Agnes gets up lazily and stretches. She complains about the ache and kinks in her lower back and shoulders. “Lindsay, you’re so good at back-rubs. Would you please try to get this kink out. You have big hands like you father did. He was strong like you.” He enjoys the flattery and allusion to him being like his father, who he never knew. She stands over him. So large, so magnificent. She takes off her robe. The lingerie barely conceals her body. Her nakedness is etched by the light behind her. Lindsay just looks at his mother. She stretches again, like a large, furry horny cat… then she lazily sprawls full length on the couch. The light pours through the window slats marking out lines, like zebra stripes along the length of her beautiful, supple body. The power of her subtle sexual advances staggers Lindsay who is at once ashamed but entranced.

Even though Lindsay is uneasy, he quietly complies to her wishes. Sitting on edge of couch/bed, Lindsay keeps regular rhythm as he kneads the fleshly curves of her sleek body accompanied by her ‘oohs’ & ‘aahs’. “Down a little, She purrs, “Yea, that’s good.” She melts into the couch as Lindsay rubs the small of her back and firm tops of her buttocks.

A sense of doom and foreboding crotch in his consciousness. A dark form accusing and tormenting him. Wanting to steal his forbidden comfort. He is angry at her. Angry that she so rules him, so possesses him. He is angry at himself that he so desperately needs her, wants her. Why does she make me do this to her. His furious contemplation’s make him dig deeper into her warm flesh, squeezing the roundness of her ass and pressing up into her lower back. There is a slight buzzing in his ears.

Lindsay looks around at the clutter of the trailer and the artifacts of their lives together. Sweat begins to form around his temple and forehead. He is bombarded with a plethora of ambivalent emotions; excitement, guilt, arousal, discomfort, repulsion. He studies her ass and figure with a detached curiosity through her flimsy lingerie. This goes on for a quite a while as they work into a regular beat of pressing and yielding with accompanying moaning and instruction. Simulated sex via the art of back rub. Lindsay is now sporting an erection and therefore loosing his concentration.

His mother, sensing something gone awry, i.e. Lindsay’s focus drifting from the task at hand, takes a final, long sensuous extension and regathers herself. She now has captured his full attention, loyalty and soul. Agnes slowly sits up and lights another cig. Takes a deep drag. Leisurely rotates her neck with a few accompanying cricks and cracks, looking steadily at Lindsay. She smiles warmly at him. She places her hand on his thigh. Seemingly unaware of being provocative. “Thanks, that felt just wonderful.” Takes another drag. She picks up a nearby brush and brushes her hair. “You’re so much like your father.” Appreciatively looks him over. “You’re becoming such a man. Your father & I first got together when we were not much older than you are now.”

Agnes stares blankly into the distance as she reminisces. “He was such a lover! He had such a big cock, it hurt me the first few times.” Her eyes widen as she recounts the occasion. She smiles smugly, “He just couldn’t get enough. During those first few years, we fucked everywhere. Anywhere…” Agnes saunters over to the kitchen cabinet to refill her vodka glass. With some relish she boasts, “I remember once he lifted up my dress and fucked me right in the kitchen, while his parents were in the other room watching T.V.  We were always doing crazy shit like that.” She reclines next to Lindsay who is speechless and expressionless. He is the passive audience for her performance. A privileged victim.

She takes a long drink and nods his way, “But the first time, I’ll never forget, was behind his grandfathers barn. I was so scared.

Lindsay has heard her recite this story dozen of times. Like a familiar hymn, he was well versed to the successive lines. Yet it was sacrilegious to break her concentration or interrupt her story at these moments. “I had to be back home in 20 minutes. I kept nervously checking my watch. It took your dad 11 minutes to cum. A routine he repeated many times in our romantic adventures together.” Whenever she got to that part of the story she always had a little scorn in her voice. She spit that part out with such a condescending attitude. Lindsay wondered what was the significance to the “11 minutes to cum” part. Agnes proceeds, “Just like a train, always on time. He was regular as clock work.” She continues to smoke and brush her hair throughout her revelries.

Butch abruptly reenters. “Well?” He demands as he goes to the fridge and fetches a beer. “God, it’s hot outside!” Presses the cold beer to his forehead and pops the top. “Is the kid going to do it, or not?” Agnes sighs. Gives an angry looks in Butch’ direction and returns to Lindsay. “We need you to check out Lobo for us.” Lindsay is hurt and confused. “We can’t because we’d be noticed for sure.” Lindsay shoots a dirty look toward Butch. Butch jumps in, “We know he’s up to no good. That he’s hiding somethin’. You sneak in to his tent and go through his stuff… Just bring us anything that looks suspicious.” Now is that that hard to do? Lindsay crosses his arms stubbornly and looks pissed off. Butch looks out the trailer door and peers out, “We’ll keep him busy. It’s simple.” Lindsay is crest fallen and frustrated, “Oh Mom! Why do I have to be the one?” “Cause you’re inconspicuous for one. No one will take notice of you.” Butch asserts.

Agnes puts her arm around him and pulls him close. Lindsay softens a bit. Agnes winks at Butch and then smiles at Lindsay. “It will be fun. Like a secret mission, an adventure… I know you like adventures. She pokes at him and tickles him. Lindsay squirms. Now stubbornness more a front than a reality. Butch also enjoying the interaction.

Finally, Lindsay surrenders, “ O.K.”, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Butch announces, “Good deal kid. It will be a great way to put your little perverted ways to good use. “Butch!” Stern look from mom. Spiteful sigh from Lindsay. Butch recants, “Yea, O.K., I was just funnin’ I don’t mean anything by it… You’re O.K. kid, really.” Lindsay gives him a dirty look. “Here, you can have my new Penthouse. A peace offering. Butch reaches into a brown paper bag and pulls out a glossy magazine. Agnes rises from the couch during the scene to grab another drink. Lindsay unconsciously rises with her.

He fumbles over to the kitchen table. “It’s got great shots of that sex goddess, Ursulla Undress, Butch says it with a humorous inflection and emphasis. They all laugh as Butch passes it over to Lindsay. He takes the colorful magazine while he shuffles back and forth both embarrassed and happy. Agnes looks on with casual interest as she takes a swig. Lindsay is glad to be the center of attention, even if being such is a bit of a mixed bag. Ill-gotten attention and affection was definitely better than none at all.

“Thanks,” Lindsay grumbles nervously. Butch gives him a hearty side hug. Agnes slightly stroking his hair from the rear.