Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2002 20:45:19 +1030 From: andrew staker Subject: "Lolito" chapter 6 LOLITO Chapter 6 I had slept in. I don't know why. Any rational game-plan would have had me go to bed early, to make sure that I would be up early in the morning to anticipate Brad's doorknock beckoning me to his mum's car so that we could go to Noarlunga for the exciting model search. But no! I had stayed up watching TV. Oodles of TV. TV to intoxication. And now he knocked and knocked at the door. Like a strumpet, I paraded to the door and told him to give me time to get ready. "No can do!" he said irately. "Well at least let me put some clothes on," I bargained. That he did allow. It was done. "Hello Mrs Winckelmann. A great day, eh!" Mon Dieu! My hair was in a state of shock and shockability. Katie sat in front, beamingly greeting me. She was a peahen, outshone in pride-terms only by her adjacent mother. Lolito, sitting next to me in the back, had an air of manicure about him. Everything was immaculate, artificial, bourgeois. He had lost the dirty, boyish aura and acquired a Barbie-like plasticity. But I guess he wanted to win the modelling duel. He still looked bloody adorable! We arrived at Colonnades and weeded our way through the multi-building shopping complex. Mother and daughter were in a binary orbit of self-absorbance. We got to the info booth, were directed by the grandmotherly woman behind it and soon found the flock of aspiring models. It was generally tedious to behold with one's eye. Katie and her clones were out in force, enforcing an image I had up until then only hypothesised. But I had Brad by my side. Some so-called 'established' modelettes soon broke us into groups of ten. We each filled in a form riddled with physical descriptors. "Don't be nervous," she said, glazing it with a fake smile. "And make sure to impress the judges... they count, after all!" Ah, such a positive message for our youth. When all the details were sifted through, a camp-as-hell thin man all in black got up and ran through the day's procedure. Basically, it would be an optimised voyeur-athon, involving models, judges, parents and other shoppers all for the ultimate benefit of the shops whose clothes we'd be modelling. Brad, Katie and I were in a group number twelve. Seven other aspirants were with us. We had to wait quietly while the judges went through the preceding groups. >From each group they'd keep half and discard half. It was all devilishly cruel. "Numbers 12, 17 and 19, you stay," a woman with glasses and Barbie hair would say. The rest would be scraped off the stage, never to see the lens of fashion glamour again. Finally it was our turn. I felt grossly awkward. The whole experience was strange. Between me and Brad was Katie, smiling, beaming... sweeping with her a sphere of glitz. A roar of girls' voices strangled me when I was up there and turned. Brad was all cool, all casual. Katie delivered an expert performance. We all three of us were selected. Quite miraculous. So it was true; I was somewhat attractive. Peter the Model: maybe I'd be handed the key to the door of Fashion Elysium. We went back, waiting for them to sift through the rest of the group. After that, it was time for a recess. Mrs W came to congratulate her successful daughter with "I'm so proud of you Katie... I knew you'd do it all along!" hugs/kisses/general shows of maternal affection. If she had known all along, why would she be proud only after Katie had made it past round one? The paradoxes of parenthood are rich and strange. The group of models was now naturally smaller; the on-lookers had increased in number on the other hand. It was getting competitive. Only the supposedly good-looking aspirants remained. We had to go up one by one and talk about ourselves. God. I went through with it. "I'm a bit nervous," Brad said, looking at me. "You'll do okay," I reassured. "You're heaps hot," and I smiled. Katie was unapproachable. She appeared to be Buddhistically meditating. After the tedious process of questioning (which I would be offended to convey here) it emerged that they had accepted Brad and me, but--shock, shock--rejected Katie. Needless to say, it was cosmic disaster. She wept, she trembled, she maintained dignity unsuccessfully. Mrs W, equally devastated, disputed the judgement of the judges. To no avail. They marched off in disgust. "How will I get home," Brad asked distressedly. "We'll catch a bus... don't worry Brad. I'll look after you," and said, emphasising my determination to care for him (and his body). "Just concentrate on winning this stupid thing," I told him. The only product of describing in detail the remainder of events would be our mutual boredom. Suffice to say that an eccentric outcome occurred. When they had sorted through everyone, the winner was none other that a pretty girl, swimming in blonde hair, blue eyes and the smoothest, fairest skin imaginable. No hard feelings. She'll sell the most clothes so it's economically rational to have her model them. The fashion cycle is fiercer than the front-loading drier's set to max. Yet all was not lost. By some unexplained machinations, that lathery man who had been handing out promotional pamphlets had struck his way to Brad and me. "Bad luck boys... you didn't win," he said. "I was hoping one of you would..." and his hand almost extended onto Brad's shoulder. My Brad... mon Lolito! "But I like you both, so how about we make a deal?" and then he did touch his tender upper-arm. Of all peculiar things, he had the following in mind. Whilst being a manager for the shopping centre, he also owned a bike shop. "Part of the reason I helped out with the Search," he said, "was so that I might find someone to show off my new line of bikes. It would only take an hour... and you can keep the bikes... both of you." What a brilliant exchange. Brad fell for it immediately; I soon echoed his sentiments. The man, for all I know, may have had any name in the world: he was not forward in making it known. He liked to be referred to as Sir. His face would slightly light up when Brad would say things like "Sir... where do I sit?" during shoots. A photographer soon made himself known. One of the poses required that we be school students. So he yanked out--from somewhere--some generic blue-and-white-plus-some-grey uniforms that had schoolboy written all over. "Now Brad," said Sir, who was overbearingly interfering with the photographer, "in this shot, you've had a long, boring day at school and you can't wait to get home..." "Yeah," Photographer added, "you use this wonderful bike to help you get away from school faster." Again Sir: "It let's you go wherever you want, faster..." And miraculously the boy delivered. He spun his face into the most articulate articulation of the urge to leave school I had to that date seen. Simply put, he was adorable in a cornucopia of shots. The very last pose we were required to submit our bodies to was naturally the most risqué one. Apparently, according to Mr Sir, we were meant to be brothers. Not that that explained why "Brad has to have his (school)shirt more than half-open" or why I was meant to lie "on the ground, resting near a wall" near my bike, with my legs half-open, half-closed. But it was all done. "Thanks boys," said Sir, "you've made me happy." But in which way? I would be most keen to see these advertisements, and not for vanity's sake! So at something like 3PM we rode out of Colonnades on our much loved, newly acquired bicycles. They gleamed splendidly in the sun. "It's going to be a long ride Brad," I warned. "Are you up to it?" "Yeah... are you?" and he smiled. "I think so. Having some water with us should be good though." "Mum's gonna be so impressed when she sees what I did today," he asserted. I felt guilty pleasure in speculating how Katie would feel. So Brad and I set out on our juvenile odyssey along a portion of the South Australian coast from Noarlunga to Maslin Beach. The gently undulating track, sometimes along road, sometimes off, was interspersed with cosy nests of cafés, kiosks and even houses. People everywhere were comfortably dressed and at ease. Life was grand in this part of the globe. At an appropriate spot, when I could feel the sweat all over my back, I pleaded with Brad to stop; he reluctantly agreed. It was by a cute little beach with a fading kiosk. Heaven. We jumped off our bikes, had a sip of water. "Ice-cream?" I offered. He nodded accession. We chained our bikes together to a sturdy light-pole. "It's a really nice beach," I said. "I suppose," Brad responded. The sweat was getting far too irritating. I resolved to remove the article of clothing on my upper body. The modelling skit had given me confidence. "Ooo, sexy man!" Brad teased. I let the wind evaporate the water all over my skin. "This is good," he said. "You're not the only one who can show off!" he said. He exposed his young chest and stomach. "Mr Sir wanted my shirt open, after all!" Conceited little prick, eh? Ah, but my little prick nonetheless. "Are you sweaty too?" I asked. "Yes Peter. Not just you," and he gave me his small smile. "I could get used to being a model. If I got a free bike each time..." "God! Isn't one enough?" He laughed. "No... Peter. Silly boy! I mean, I could sell them for other stuff.... It's just that modelling is easy, and you get heaps of stuff for doing nothing..." O no, he had been taken. I could not save him from becoming an object whose sole role was to exploit the vain. The tentacles of the fashion system had kidnapped Brad. But I didn't care. He still had that pastelled shine of perfection. I would not have it. So I threw some sand in his direction. It got in his hair and stuck to his still-sweaty skin. "Peter!" and he responded by reciprocating. It was all playful though... I could tell. "Now I have to go wash myself," he said sarcastically, looking at me. And off into the sea he trundled. He splashed a little water here and there, all over his blonde head and hairless torso. "Aren't you cleaning yourself?" he enquired. "Nah... I'll wait for a proper clean: my shower!" and I smiled. "Fair 'nough," he said. "Let's go... I want to show this off to Katie!" Alas my Lolito, I thought, off we go. We passed other girls and boys, mums and dad all enjoying a leisurely ride in the summer air. Sometimes we even had altercations with a vehicle or two. But we finally wound our way home to Maslin Beach. "It's been fun Peter. I'll be over soon!" and he dashed into his mamma's house. I guess he couldn't wait to show off his bike. I suppose I too was happy with the outcome. Sure I had a bike. More importantly, however, I realised my body was not the eternal feminine incarnate. I was now equipped to woo Brad with something I had thought to be substandard but turned out to be not-too-bad. I could tell the way Brad looked at me this time at the beach. Perhaps my modelling alongside him was the seal of approval he was looking for so as to attach himself to my body. Back inside Auntie's shack, I was going through the mail. Nothing exciting. Nothing interesting. Nothing. I decided to call my mother. "You won a bike?" she said. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed. Ah, it was good to hear her voice again. "No, am not getting bored." She spoke. "Yes, there's this girl across the road... Katie... we're getting along well." Blah Blah blah and "Blah blah blah" and Blah blah blah and "Blah Blah blah. Okay mum, see you." Hang up. The end. No sooner had I put down the talk-into-and-hear thing, than the phone sounded to life. "Hello?" I asked. "O good day. I am Ennui Bourgeois," said the female voice, "and I am calling for Ms Rebecca van Gaard." "Sorry... she's not here right now," I replied. "Do you know when she will be back?" said female-voice Bourgeois. I was not going to be honest. "Possibly tomorrow, possibly next week. I don't know madam. The point is, however, she has entrusted me with all here message requirements." "In that case, young man," she said, "write this down. Miz van Gaard's company is kindly requested for a soirée on this coming Saturday at Voltaire Hall. It's an Adonis Foundation function; be sure to tell her so." "No problemo," I retorted, jarring her elitist pronunciation with my imitation of North American street-slang. Ever so genteelly, I hung up. The Adonis Foundation? Voltaire Hall? A soirée? How baroquely Rococo! What to do with such info? Perhaps it would aid in my peeling away the layers of mystery from this philanthropic organization Auntie supposedly belonged to. Thanks be to the gods! A knock at the door. Who should it be but baby Brad. "Come in," I invited. "No... can't," he rejected. "Wanna go riding?" he invited. "Absolutely!" I accepted. Brad said: "Mum said it's okay if we go, as long as you keep an eye on me." Aye lad, that I would. "Just wait a tick while I get my bike out," I told him. Shortly after, I exited the shack with my bike, helmet and water bottle. We crossed the road and into his house he went, whence popped ego-bruised Katie. "Hello!" I saluted. "Hi Peter," she moped. "I heard how good you did in the contest." "Thanks," was the only thing I could say. "How's your ankle?" I asked. Poor girl... so many misfortunes. "Getting better. I could go riding--" "But you don't have a bike!" I rudely interjected. Out came Brad, gleaming helmet atop blonde hair, racy red t-shirt and skimpy little shorts. "Ready to ride!" he announced. Off we sped, the boy shouting "Bye Katie" to his sister. "So where exactly are we going?" he asked, when we were side by side. Not knowing where, I suggested we go south. "After all," I said, "we've come from Noarlunga, so let's go in an opposite direction." What an idyllic way for a young man and his boy to spend an afternoon. We found a vanishing off-road bike trail and rode along it for quite a while. The sound of the cars on the highway had disappeared; so too the sound of the waves of the sea. We came to some sort of a lake. The water was calm but not stagnant. There was a willow and the grass was unmanaged but not overgrown. There was the general summertime hum of birds and insects that invigorates one all over. "Can we take a break, Brad?" I asked. "Sure!" he said. "I'm getting puffed out." "Me too!" I said. "Can I have some water?" he asked. Teasingly, I said: "Don't you have your own?" Pause. Brad: "Um... sorry, I forgot." He looked toward the sun-reflecting water. "Here!" and I affectionately shoved it toward his mouth. He put his lips on the plastic nozzle and sucked. When he had finished, I said: "Looks like you enjoyed that." "Whatever," he dismissed. "Can we stay here a bit?" Sure we could. "Good." He seemed relieved. Feeling a bit seductive (understandable, given the circumstance) I decided to remove my shirt again. "I'm sweaty all over," I smiled. He took no notice. Repeating a previous motion, he slid himself onto the grass. "It's a little prickly!" he reported. "But it's relaxing." I then took a gamble: I removed my shorts. "Pew! That stinks!" he revolted in jest. "So sorry," I said. "But I gotta dry out between my legs. It's really annoying when I'm riding!" "Can I take my shirt off too then?" he asked. "It feels like it's sticking to my back." It was off. I was so close to him. He and I were the only two at this out-of-the-way lakelette. "So you don't want to take your shorts off?" I asked. "Why, do you?" he said, looking through me. He, in one glance, had diminished my moral weight. Lolito transformed me into an old man under his greying trench-coat. I stumbled for words, almost choking in my embarrassment. "I just thought... if you wanted to... and you were sweaty around your um... you could take 'em off. No need to be shy." "Peter, I'm not shy," he said. " You've seen me naked." He laughed offbeat. "But I don't want to be naked unless you are." Ah, nakedness. Le nude. Edenic bliss, high-art, advertising billboards and raunchy pornos all fed by this ever-so-human(e) and inalienable state of being. Would seeing Brad naked be enough? Would playing with his pubescent nipples suffice? Where does aesthetic nudity end and sexual nudity begin? This multitude of dilemmas drowned out my rationality. With one efficient manual manoeuvre I whipped off my underwear. My pathetic dick sat there in the sun. I did not look back. It had been done. I had liberated myself from obeying any bourgeois precepts about what the body is and how I should treat it. Now all that remained was liberating Brad. And, like all good and memorable liberations, this was one he enacted with his own hands. Off came the shorts and the blue briefs. "See, I'm not shy Peter," he said. Not shy in many senses, dear Brad. "Now we can get that tan going again!" and he smiled. But alas, all Edens have their fall. Ours crashed by way of a scratchy roar of disgust, expounded by an ancient Italian matron whose spine was wilting. "Mamma mia!" she yelled. "Bastardi! Bastardi!" and over and over. In her snail's pace way she came closer, wielding a vicious-looking enamel bucket of cherries. Needless to say, Brad and I clothed ourselves and zoomed away from the lake, her shrieks and howls fading, fading, gone. We rode home in a huge rush, almost collapsing at the end. He didn't bother going into his mum's. The lure of a cold drink from Auntie's fridge did the trick. Pretty soon Brad was recovering on his favourite couch, watching TV, sipping his beloved Coca-Cola (Registered Trademark). When normalcy reinstated itself, the first thing he said was: "That was fucken cool!" I could not disagree. "We have to be careful next time we sunbake..." and he giggled. Katie's doorknock not much later ended our eventful day. Brad left, carrying with him the strongest promise of return to date. Night night. Andrew Staker http://www.geocities.com/adonipolis