Selected Transcripts from the "Hard Time Chronicles" of "Billy Budz"
Section 7 (29Mar2034)
7.01 (A few words from Blitzen)
No, I don' say much. Ya keep ya mout' shut, ya don' get so much trouble. Trouble come anyway, I move fast, fast as lightnin'. Dats my name, ya know, in some language. Blitzen is lightnin'. So when I seen dem Injins, out dere in da way a da car, my AK is right out da gun port, but da boss says don' shoot, so I don', which is good cause dey was friendlies, and dey give us some good eats.
7.02 (From Billy's "blog")
I think that's enough from Blitzen -- you get the idea. It was just an old man and a boy out in the road, mounted on a pair of bony horses and waving a white flag -- but Blitzen would have been happy to blow them away.
The old man had long braids hanging down out of a wide brimmed hat. A leather vest hung loosely over his skinny chest, and his jeans were tucked into cowboy boots. The boy, who was cute as a button, wore only a skimpy loincloth and knee high moccasins. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, a bandana with one feather stuck in it holding it out of his eyes. I might have stopped to get a better look even if they hadn't been blocking the road.
"Oh, cool," Kun said, "real Indians!"
Both of them held out their hands to show they weren't armed. Doing the same, I stepped out of the van, thinking I could ask if they'd seen Joe. Kun followed me.
The old man and the boy dismounted. Now, I don't know if you've had any experience with young boys wearing loincloths, but they never seem to be able to keep the part that goes between their legs tucked tight -- there's always an inch or two of gap -- so when the boy came down off his horse, he flashed me a charming view of his tight little package and the beautifully smooth boy skin around it, informing me that a lot of his brown skin color came from the sun. I was fantasizing getting my mouth on the paler stripe that I figured ran from the bottom of his belly through his legs and up to the top of his ass crack when I realized the old man was talking.
Well, we'd missed Joe again, but you'll read about that later That was yesterday, and I got some good recordings since then, so I'll let the other people tell most of it. As usual, I'll try to put things in some sort of order that eventually makes sense, with the emphasis on "eventually." In the meanwhile, though, try to bear with me. It will come together -- eventually.
7.03 (From Charlie Beaver's narrative)
Well, we got kind of a tribe going here. Kind of. Yah, we been Injuns, mostly, but we warn't no tribe for starters. We never lived on the rez, never got a penny from the slots or the poker machines. Never got nothing.
It was the Doc got us together, after everything fell apart. Doctor Naomi Kleinfeld was her name, and anthropology was her game. You know anthropology? Well, Doc was writing this book about how we lost our culture and all that, which was why a bunch of us was so drunk all the time. Then the money run out and she warn't no better off than we was. No money, no job. But she kept at it, and rounded us up. Denver, Ogden, Reno. Taught us to be Injuns. Kind of.
Doc died a ways back, but we keep on, mostly making it up as we go along. Not doing too bad. Got enough water for the corn, pasture for the sheep, war party gets us a cow every now and agin. And we got Jenny. Doc, she told us, take good care of Jenny, she talk to the spirits. Yah, she talk to the spirits, and we do pretty much alright.
7.04 (From Jenny Two Streams' narrative)
My father died in Afghanistan the month before I was born. He was White Mountain Apache. Well, that's what Granny told me. She made up stories, though, so who knows? My mother was Paiute. I was five when she finished drinking herself to death, and Granny died when I was seven. After that, it was foster care.
Well, I didn't do so well in foster care. Even though I knew, I really really knew I was supposed to be a girl, I'd been born into this little boy's body. That made me one of the kids they called, back in those days, "hard to place." It was hard to place the retards, the paraplegics, the autistics, the kids dying from AIDS. It was hard to place the kids who set fires, who raped their little sisters, who howled like fucking animals all night long. All those kids. And me.
Some tried taking me on. That was back when the liberals were still trying to run things, and foster parents got paid. Back before we all got our fucking "liberty," and a kid nobody wanted was just left to roam the streets until she died. I could have died, but they wouldn't let me.
So I'd go to a foster home -- usually some fat old bitch keeping nine or ten kids in a three bedroom house. And if there were girls in the house, I'd take their clothes to wear, and the fat old bitch would smack me around, and I'd smack her right back, and before you knew it I was back in the children's shelter. By the time I was ten, they just said fuck it and sent me to a group home with the kids who set fires, and raped their little sisters, and howled like fucking animals all night long.
The group home was all boys, but the director, Mr. McNiven, he let me grow my hair, and got me girl clothes to wear. It was easier than fighting me about it, and he really didn't give a shit, because at least I didn't set fires. And, yes, I was pretty popular with the sister rapers because I'd spread my legs for anyone who told me I was pretty -- and if they couldn't figure it out on their own, I would tell them: just tell me how pretty I am and you can do whatever you want.
We didn't go to school because none of them would take us. Some woman came to give classes three days a week, and you could go if you wanted to. Usually I went, because the days were pretty boring there, but sometimes I was too tired from the night before. Like I said, I was pretty popular.
My roommate was a kid called Tucker. We were the two youngest in the house. Tucker never said a word, never even made a noise. I never knew if he couldn't talk, or if he just wouldn't, but you never heard a sound come out of him, no matter what the big kids did to him. I tried to keep them happy so they'd leave him alone, but they still got on him sometimes.
I remember one night Kai and Jeffy came in our room, maybe an hour after lights out. Jeffy switched on the lamp and saw me in my camisole and my little cotton panties with the rosebud print. "Jenny," he said -- it was back then that everyone started calling me Jenny -- "Jenny, you look real pretty tonight." I smiled up at him.
Then Kai said, "Yeah, Jenny, you look really beautiful," and I smiled at him too. Kai always liked kissing me, so he sat down on my cot and leaned over me and kissed me, shooting his tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face harder into mine, and loved it. I always thought Kai was really handsome. He was fourteen then, with a muscular body and hair almost as dark as mine. His eyes were this wonderful green color, a color you could drown in.
In the meanwhile, Jeffy was running his hands along the insides of my legs. I was so smooth back then, so smooth and soft, none of the guys could resist. Then I felt his tongue go where his hands had been, and I pulled my legs together, grabbing his face in between my legs, and I just had to start this kind of humping motion, you know. And when my ass came up off the cot, Jeffy grabbed the band of my panties and pulled them down, and squeezed my buns with both hands, squeezed them so hard it almost hurt, but it didn't, it just made me super hot.
Meanwhile, Kai broke off our kiss and straddled me, sitting on my chest. Somehow he'd gotten his pants off, or maybe he wasn't wearing any when he came in, because his big, hard cock was waving over my face and his balls were hanging down on my neck. Then he grabbed my head and pulled it up onto his cock and balls, rubbing himself hard and fast on my face. Maybe he was still a kid, but he had a man's size and a man's smell, a sweet-sour man smell coming from his pubes, and he was rubbing his man smell all over my eyes and my nose and my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and licked at whatever it could reach.
By that time, Jeffy had my panties off, had bent back my legs, and was tonguing my pussy. Okay, it was my ass, but the rule was you had to call it my pussy because the rule was that I had to be a girl. Really, though, that was fine with Kai and Jeffy because neither one of them wanted to me gay. Jeffy would never have eaten out some guy's asshole, but eating a pussy was okay. Then, "Oh, Jenny," he said, "I gotta have that beautiful pussy now." And he shoved a pillow under me to get a better angle, and he worked his hard six-incher right up my hole.
I took it without any trouble. I'd gotten into the habit of lubing my chute with lard from the kitchen each night before I went to bed. I never knew who I'd be entertaining later on.
I couldn't resist it any more. I grabbed Kai's beautiful seven-inch dick and put it in my mouth, working it with my lips and my tongue. I wanted to bring him right up to the edge of ecstasy and keep him there as long as I could, but like most guys, he was impatient, and started fucking my mouth fast and hard, right down into my throat. By that time, I was experienced enough not to gag or choke. It was only a few seconds before I was swallowing his cum, but he stayed hard and kept going.
It was about then that Ralph came in. Finding both my holes occupied, he turned to Tucker. Not saying a word or making a sound, Tucker got my can of lard out from under the bed, stepped out of his drawers, and lubed himself. Then he got back on his bed, on his hands and knees, and let Ralph fuck him. Tucker never said a word.
7.05 (From Charlie Beaver's narrative)
Jenny, she got one of her visions, which is why we sent the boys out what found your boy Joe. He warn't doing too good, out there with no water, trying to walk out of the desert. The boys, they brung him back here and Jenny, she got him better pretty fast. First ever to get away from them pyramid guys, far's I know.
Joe, he told us what he seen, which warn't much. Hoping you fellows can tell us a little more. Jenny got a bad feel for that pyramid out there, ya know. Them Egyptians, ya know, they just buried folks in them pyramids they had, no big deal. Them Mexicans, though, they got other ideas. Doc said they used to go out and catch poor suckers from other tribes, take 'em up on them pyramids they made, and cut their hearts out. Sacrifice 'em, to their sun god or something.
Well, one thing Joe told us is they call that pyramid they building the Temple of the Sun. Don't sound good to me. Figured maybe you could tell us more, which is why we flagged you down, me and li'l Rabbit.
Joe could of stayed if he wanted -- we ain't that strict on the Injun blood thing, and he seemed like a nice kid. No, but he was missing his brother. We give him food and water, and he headed out.
7.06 (From Billy's "blog")
I told Charlie about how the Temple guys meant to put solar collectors on their pyramid, but he didn't sound convinced. To tell the truth, neither am I. With or without solar collectors, I wouldn't put it past those wack jobs to indulge in a little human sacrifice.
7.07 (From Jenny Two Streams' narrative)
One morning we went down to breakfast and nobody was in charge any more. McNiven and his whole crew were gone. Well, almost the whole crew. A couple of the custodial guys were still there because they lived on the grounds, but since they didn't speak English, they were as surprised as the kids. One of them had a radio, though, so we figured it out. There was a new government, and it wasn't paying for group homes, or foster care, or any other kind of "welfare." No money, no McNiven, no staff. Also, no food, no electric, no nothing.
Me and Tucker stayed a couple of days, while there was still some peanut butter left in the kitchen. Then we hit the road. I had just turned fourteen, and Tucker would be fourteen in a week or so. Anyway, we wound up at some truck stop, where I turned some tricks and made a little money -- enough for us to eat. It looked like we might make it.
Then I went up to the wrong truck. I guess he freaked when he found out I wasn't exactly all girl. Anyway, he beat the shit out of me. Tucker took me up to where we'd made ourselves a little shelter from branches and cardboard, up the hill from the truck stop behind some trees. He took care of me.
I guess he was selling his ass. We didn't have any money, but he kept coming back with food. Of course, with Tucker, you couldn't tell what he was up to by asking him, because he didn't talk, not even to me.
In a couple of days, I could walk good enough to get back down to the truck stop. Tucker took me into the truckers' shower. He washed me all over, so gently, and dried me with a towel. Then he leaned close to me and surprised me with the sweetest kiss of my life.
The day after that we were down near the entrance ramp to the stop, and a big rig was pulling in, and all of a sudden Tucker just jumped out in front of it and lay down right under the wheels. And he never made a sound, never said a word.
7.08 (From Kun's narrative)
You know, in school they told us the Indians crossed over to America from Asia, from a place not all that far from Korea, and that kid Rabbit really reminds me of my little cousin Soo. I don't know what happened to him, but I hope he got out. He was a nice kid. So is Rabbit.
When you're used to a big family around you all the time, I think it's extra hard being on your own. Being here with the Indians, it's kind of making me sad. I keep thinking about my parents, and my aunts and uncles, and my sister, and all my cousins. You know, the hair is kind of the same, maybe that's it. What do you think? Do I look, maybe, a little like an Indian?
7.09 (From Jenny Two Streams' narrative)
After Tucker was dead, I didn't want to stay at the truck stop anymore. I caught a ride with a trucker down to Coachella, then headed down to the Salton Sea. Well, you know what it's like there. Time just kind of passes without you noticing. Then I met Doc.
She was headed up from Yuma in a beat up old Airstream with Ed and Maybelle Kotay, and stayed the night. Well, Ed and Maybelle were probably the first Indians I'd see since Granny died, so I went to have a good look, and that's how I wound up coming here. Doc just kind of scooped me up, saying how I was just what they needed.
Since nobody ever needed me before, except for a quick fuck, I was curious. That's when I found out that women like me -- you know, women stuck in men's bodies -- had a special place in some tribes. Doc said I had special spiritual power, and she wanted me to come live with them, and she'd teach me to be a healer. Naturally, I figured she was shitting me, but what else did I have to do? And here I am.
7.10 (From Kun's narrative)
Back when my Pop and my uncle had the store there was this black guy who dressed like a woman and came in sometimes, mostly for cigarettes, but also for peroxide and ice when they beat on him. My people were not too fond of fags, but those blacks got it worse than most, and that poor bastard was always getting worked over. So one day, when my father and uncle weren't looking, I went up to him by the freezer, where he was getting a bag of ice, and I asked him why he did it. They just kept beating him, so why did he keep wearing the women's clothes?
And he said he sure didn't like them beating him, but he was who he was, and he couldn't pretend to be somebody else. Well, I was only ten back then, and I didn't get it -- and then my father saw me talking to him and pulled me back behind the counter -- but I kept thinking about what he said, and I figured that I sure could pretend to keep from getting beaten up like that. And when I thought about it some more, I thought maybe he was the bravest man I ever knew.
Jenny was like that, I guess -- stuck it out through some pretty rough times. Now she's here, though, and she has a family that loves her.
7.11 (From Billy's "blog")
They invited us, and it was late, so we stayed the night. The stars were amazing out there, away from the lights and the smog, so I decided to sleep out in the open, near the campfire. I was rolled up in my blankets and mostly asleep when one of the women came by and offered to get in with me. Naturally, I had to tell her thanks, but no thanks, not my scene. I wondered where that cute little Rabbit was spending the night.
I found out the next morning, when two black haired heads popped out of the same pup tent together -- Rabbit and Kun. You know, I don't think they were fooling around at all, but that didn't stop my imagination. The real surprise, though, was when I was looking for Stefan, so we could get on the road, and he came crawling out of Jenny Two Streams' teepee with a kind of satisfied grin on his face.
7.12 (Kun makes a request)
Billy, listen. Charlie Beaver says I could stay here, if it's okay with you. I know you paid good money for me, but I swear, I'll get the money somehow to pay you back. It's like a family here, a big family, like what I was used to. I think maybe I could be a pretty good Indian. I could learn to ride horses and go hunting and all that stuff. If it's okay with you.
7.13 (From Billy's "blog")
I like Kun, but I just don't have room for yet another boy at my place -- and anyway, as I said, I like him. Hell, maybe we all should become Indians. First, though, I have to find Joe, who still is out there somewhere.
I got back to my apartment early this afternoon. There was no sign of Joe along the way, and I don't know where to look next. At least he was free when he left the Indian camp, and I guess he must have been heading back to the city. Of course, he has no way of knowing that his brother is under my bed crying as I write this, and no good reason to believe I'd want to help him, so he wouldn't have much reason to come here.