Falling Off a Log
Copyright © 2003, 2015
I took one of the tapes from the bag and handed it to my Mom from the back seat. She popped it in the player in the dashboard.
The first song was mine and Scott's. It was amazing how good the recording quality was, considering we'd only done it once, and that the drums and bass were created electronically. Scott's Dad had to be a real wizard with that stuff, and I couldn't wait to see how he did it.
My Dad was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. While the song was playing, he was taking looks at me in the rear view mirror. The first song ended and the second one started playing after a few minutes. It was the first time Mom had heard it. When it ended, she looked back over the seat at me. "Joey. That was so ...."
"Good?" I offered.
"Yes, good. I was looking for a better word. "It's .. it's ... I'm amazed! My little boy! Sounding so professional. And Scotty! His singing. It's so .. mature sounding, I guess."
"His voice hasn't even changed yet!"
"That's not what I meant. It's the emotion in his voice, and the things he can do with it. He sounds like ...."
"He sounds like Scott. Nobody sings like him."
"I was going to say he sings like an angel. A sexy angel."
"Very sexy. Oooooh yessss! Very sexy."
I guessed I'd have to keep my eyes on sexy Scott. We pulled into our driveway. Dad let me out so I wouldn't have to try to get the guitar out of the car in the garage. We went inside and Mom asked if anybody was hungry. My Dad wasn't, but I was, so she heated up some leftover spaghetti and sauce. After I ate, I excused myself to go upstairs and get better acquainted with my new guitar. She warned me not to make too much noise and to be in bed by 9:30.
I no sooner got in my room than there was a tap at the door and my Dad came in. He sat on the bed.
"Is there something more I should know about? About you and Scotty, I mean?"
"I mean ... well you both told us you loved each other. Is it best-friend type love? Or is it more than that?"
I had to think. About the question. Was it more than that? I'd never before had a conscious thought about it. It was just me and Scotty. Now I was thinking how it felt when we had our first long kiss. How I got a … well, how it made me hard.
How the feeling I had worried me. How Scott had joked about it, but I kinda thought he was feeling the same thing. He'd been sporting wood, too. Enough to derail a train.
"I'm thinkin', Dad. It's always been that we're friends. He's my best friend. My only real friend. And I do love him. But ...." I didn't know how far I wanted to go with this. I didn't have my own thoughts together. "Let me think some more. I'm a little confused right now."
"That's OK. You think things out, then if you want to talk again I'll be here." He patted my shoulder, then stood to leave.
"Don't try to go sleeping with that guitar."
I giggled. "Thanks, Dad. I won't. G'night."
When he left, I started to look at all the things Mike had brought over. There was the guitar, the amplifier, a whole case of strings, a box of various picks and a bottle of guitar polish. There were also other boxes there. Some effects pedals, a mixer and -
"YES!" There was a pair of earphones that plugged straight into the guitar so I could play as loud as I wanted and not bother anybody. And a box of batteries.
I set myself up with the guitar and earphones on the side of the bed and went to work figuring out the possibilities I had here. I mean, today I'd just kind of picked it up and played when we were at Scott's. But this thing had two pickups, volume and tone controls, and a multi-position switch that gave me a lot of possible combinations. I sat there and played - fooled around actually, for a long time. Until a shadow fell into my field of view. I looked up to see Mom looking pretty mad. I pulled off the earphones and looked at the clock. Ten-Thirty. Wow. Five hours!
"Put that stuff away and go to sleep. I thought you'd gone to bed hours ago. I called up here before, and you didn't answer, so I told Scott you were sleeping."
"Yes, but it's too late to call him back now. Go to bed!"
"Sorry, Mom," I said as she turned to leave. I put the guitar and things away and went to the bathroom. I got undressed and climbed into bed. I closed my eyes and started to drift off into a dream. Of me lying on the soft grass in a meadow. With Scotty lying on top of me. Kissing me on the lips.
Giving me a hardon!
If you have enjoyed this story please let the author know by emailing him at firstname.lastname@example.org