Date: Wed, 2 Jun 2010 06:34:56 EDT
From: BertMcK@aol.com
Subject: Dancing on the Tundra, Chapter 3 of 24

DANCING ON THE TUNDRA
by Bert McKenzie
Copyright 2010

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any real
person alive or dead is coincidental and unintentional.

CHAPTER III

     By the time they were seniors, life seemed to have settled
down for Terry and Paula.  The boys in his class no longer teased
Terry, their minds seemingly too preoccupied with sports and the
opposite sex.  None of the underclassmen would dare talk back to
a senior, so he was left alone to develop his interests without a
continual distraction of daily misery.  On the other hand, Paula
who had always been a loner was now in a stable relationship.
She and Jim Ragsdale had gone steady for just over two years.
They both seemed content in the situation although at times Terry
could notice an underlying tension when they were around.  But he
thought nothing of this.

     Jim developed a mild friendship with Terry.  They never
socialized or "hung out" together during school hours, and rarely
even spoke to each other in the halls.  This was undoubtedly more
to protect Jim's social standing than for any other reason.  But
some times after school Jim and Paula would give Terry a ride
home in Jim's truck.  On a few rare occasions Jim offered Terry
rides home when Paula wasn't along.  Then there were a few
Saturdays when Jim picked Terry up and the two of them went out
to play tennis.  True to his long standing ability to be
uncoordinated in such games, Terry was a mess on the court.  The
sessions were comprised of Jim serving and Terry chasing the
ball, or Terry serving, Jim returning and Terry chasing the ball.
But throughout these frustrating games Jim remained patient and
calm.  Meanwhile Terry got a good workout and perhaps even
improved a little.  Before winter set in he was able to return
about a third of Jim's volleys when the balls came near him and
he didn't have to run for them.

     Terry's mother decided in his freshman year that what he
needed to help him with his social skills was dance lessons, so
she enrolled him in Mrs. Taget's School of Ballet, Tap and Jazz
which met after school and on weekends.  At first Terry hated it.
He felt that being the only boy in a dance school gave his
classmates all the more reason to pick on him and call him a
sissy.  Besides this, he was terrible.  He had a good sense of
balance and natural rhythm, but his lack of coordination made him
appear gangly and awkward.  But by his senior year he had
surpassed all of the other students in Mrs. Taget's classes and
was helping her teach the little kids.  These classes also seemed
to help him gain confidence to audition for the school plays and
musicals for his last three high school years, his senior year
winning the lead.  What little coordination he attained in his
tennis matches with Jim he was sure resulted from his dance
classes.

     Finally, in late fall Mrs. Taget approached Terry to ask if
he was interested in dancing in a show at Holy Lady College.  The
college was a Catholic school for girls and had to import boys
from other locations to play male characters in their
productions.  In this particular show which was primarily a dance
recital for the girls, their choreographer wanted some male
figures to lend support.  When contacted, Mrs. Taget suggested
Terry.  He was only seventeen, but mature looking for his age
with dark blond hair, an open, winning smile below crystal blue
eyes and a well formed, if thin physique.

     Mrs. Taget was also aware of how good Terry looked in
tights.  She would occasionally wish that she were years younger.
She frequently worried about the boy in a maternal way.  He
seemed friendly enough with the girls in her classes, but she
noticed he was always alone.  She thought such a handsome,
likeable boy should have several girlfriends, but Terry never got
a second look from the girls and never spoke of dates or girls in
general.  Mrs. Taget had an unspoken fear that Terry might be
different from other boys, 'special' as she called it.  She knew
if this were the case there was nothing she could do but pity
him.  She had several male friends who were 'special' when she
was a professional dancer with the Rockettes many years ago.  She
knew how hard it was for these people to live in a world that was
more hostile than indifferent.

     "How will I ever get out to Lady?" Terry asked his friend
during study hall as he told Paula about the offer to dance in
their show.  "I really want this but I just don't see how.  Mom
won't help out and Dad will never let me drive the car."

     "Can't you ride your bike?" the girl asked.

     "On the highway after dark?  You think my folks are going to
agree to that?"

     "I've got another idea," Paula suggested after a moment of
silent thought.  "Maybe Jim can take you."

     "Paula, it's a month of rehearsals, every night except
Saturday and Sunday.  Jim won't want to drive me out there and
pick me up every night."

     "Well he could do it at first and then maybe you can find
someone else in the cast to give you rides after that."

     "Well, maybe," Terry agreed hesitantly.  He knew that Holy
Lady was primarily a boarding school, but there might be other
locals in the show who could give him a lift.

     The bell rang ending the school day.  "We'll meet you in the
parking lot," Paula said as she gathered up her books.  "I'll ask
Jim.  He'll do it for me."

     Ten minutes later Terry was climbing into the primer colored
truck's front seat.  There was plenty of room as Paula scooted
over against her boyfriend.  The truck pulled out of the parking
lot with a squeal of rubber on cement.  "Jim, Terry wants to ask
you a favor," Paula said abruptly as they drove up the street.

     Terry blushed and poked his friend in the ribs with an
elbow.  "I thought you were going to ask him," he whispered to
her in anger.

     "Well somebody ask me," Jim replied as he reached down to
shift gears with a grinding jerk.  "What's up?"

     "Ask him," Paula mouthed soundlessly.

     "Well . . . Paula thought that maybe you might consider. . .
only if you don't mind and didn't have any other plans . . . I
mean, you don't have to but . . ."

     "Oh Jesus, Terry," the girl finally growled, then turned to
her boyfriend.  "He wants to do this show out at Holy Lady and he
needs a ride there."

     The boy never took his eyes from the road as he turned onto
Elm Street.  "Sure, be glad to.  When is it?"

     "Well . . ." Terry began slowly.

     "Every night except Saturday and Sunday for the next month,"
Paula supplied.

     The truck screeched to a halt in the middle of the street,
throwing Paula and Terry forward into the windshield.  "You want
me to drive you clear out to Lady every night?" Jim asked angrily
as he glared at Terry who was rubbing his forehead.

     "It was Paula's idea," the boy said as he sat back in the
seat.

     "Well he needs a ride and you've got wheels," Paula said
angrily.  Her head hurt where she banged it into the hard glass.

     "Who's gonna pay for the gas?  How's he gonna get home?  You
expect me to do this every night?"

     Paula was angry because her boyfriend was not responding in
the manner she expected.  "Terry will chip in for gas.  I just
thought this would be a nice way for you to get out of the house
each night.  Then maybe we could go to the library or something."

     Slowly a grin crept across the boy's face.  "Well, okay," he
agreed and started up the truck again.  "But this is gonna cost
you.  You're gonna owe me big time for this one, both of you."
Minutes later Terry was on the phone to Mrs. Taget telling her he
could do the show.

                            *   *   *

     Rehearsals had gone very well.  Terry was quite popular with
the college girls and performed well in the show, doing
everything the choreographer/director asked of him.  When he
wasn't on stage he had ample time to sit in the wings and do his
homework.  Best of all, his days were full, too full to be
unhappy.  After school he had classes with Mrs. Taget and helped
out at her studio to pay for lessons and earn a little extra
spending money.  Then he ran home for a quick bite before Jim
pulled up in front of the house to drive Terry to rehearsal.  At
9:30 when he got out of rehearsal Jim and Paula would be
patiently waiting in the truck just outside of the auditorium.
They frequently stopped somewhere for a coke and then headed
home.  The full routine kept Terry busy and happy.

     Then came Halloween weekend.  Halloween itself fell on
Friday and there was a costume dance being held in the gym that
night.  Paula managed to talk Jim into giving Terry a ride to his
rehearsal before picking her up for the dance.  They both would
meet Terry at 9:30 and take him back with them to the school.  "I
hate dances," he protested when Paula came up with the
suggestion.

     "The boy wonder who's been taking dance classes for four
years and is starring in a college dance recital doesn't like to
dance," she teased.

     "That's different," Terry grouched.  "Besides, I don't have
a costume."

     "What are you going to wear in the show next week?" Paula
asked.

     "Those costumes belong to the Holy Lady drama department,"
he protested.  "I can't steal them."

     "You're only going to borrow it for one night," Paula
explained.  "And you will too, or you'll be walking home."

     "You wouldn't . . ."

     She smiled broadly.  "If you're not wearing a costume when
we come to pick you up after rehearsal Friday night we're driving
off and leaving you.  I swear."

     Friday finally arrived and Terry sat on the front porch in
nervous anticipation.  He wore his dance belt and tights under
his jeans as always and carried a gym bag with him.  He planned
to stuff one of his costumes in the bag after rehearsal so he
could smuggle it out of the college theatre building.  He was
lost in thought, trying to picture how he was going to pull off
the caper when the truck horn jolted him back to reality.  "Come
on, Tutti, let's go," Jim shouted from the cab.

     Terry grabbed his bag and bolted down the steps to the
street.  He opened the passenger door and prepared to slide into
the truck when he was stopped by what he saw.  Smiling at him
from behind the steering wheel was an incredibly handsome
swashbuckling pirate.  Jim was wearing tight pants with flared
bottoms stuffed into high topped riding boots, and a white
ruffled long sleeve shirt that was unbuttoned down to his navel.
The outfit was completed by a fake hook that protruded from the
end of his right sleeve, a red bandanna tied over his head and a
black eye patch.  "What do you think?" he asked with a grin.

     The classmate Terry had known for years, Paula's boyfriend
was gone.  He had been transformed as if by magic into an
incredible, dashing, sexy man.  For a moment Terry was almost
frightened to climb into the truck.  His mother's admonition to
not go anywhere with strangers made him pause.  Then the
beautiful man opened his mouth and his classmate's voice came
out, destroying the fragile image like a brick through a
storefront window.  "Well . . . how do I look?"

     "Beautiful . . ."

     "What?" Jim asked, his lip curling into a half sneer.

     "I mean great.  You look great."

     "Well get in.  I want to get you out to the college and get
back.  Paula said she had a real surprise for me.  What's she
going as?"

     "I don't know," Terry admitted.  "She wouldn't tell me.  She
said she wanted to surprise you and knew I had a big mouth."

     Jim chuckled softly as he reached down to bang the stick
shift into third with his hook.  Terry felt his mouth go dry and
his forehead break out in a cold sweat.  He wasn't sure what was
wrong, but he'd never felt this way before.  Ever since opening
the truck door and seeing Jim dressed that way, he felt
disconnected with the rest of the world.  His heart was pounding
so loudly he was sure Jim could hear it over the sound of the
engine.  The tiny cab filled with the scent of the after shave
Jim was wearing and it seemed to make the air thick, smothering
Terry.  As Jim made a sharp right turn Terry slid across the
seat, sliding against his friend's body.  He could feel the hard
muscles rippling in the biceps under the puffy sleeve of the
pirate shirt.  Terry glanced over at the open area in front,
exposing Jim's bare chest, and felt his body respond sexually.
The dance belt suddenly felt too tight and confining under his
jeans.  "Sorry," Terry mumbled as he pulled away, back to his
side of the seat.

     He suddenly realized that Jim had been talking.  He tried to
pull himself out of the haze and focus on those words.  " . . .
said you both owed me big time for all this driving, and tonight
I'm gonna collect."

     "What?" Terry asked, trying to make sense of what he just
heard.

     "That's her surprise," Jim said with a rakish smile.  "She's
gonna pay me back for this big favor of driving you to Lady every
night."

     "Oh," Terry replied.  He wasn't really sure what Jim was
talking about.

                            *   *   *

     "So you got a date tonight?" Sally asked.  She was one of
the college girls helping with the show.  She and Terry were
sitting in the back of the house while the last number was being
paraded on stage before the director gave them notes and let them
go.  Sally was short and stocky with long, curly blond hair.  She
had an easy going, generous personality and had attempted to take
Terry under her wing, introducing him to the other performers and
tech crew in the college theatre.

     "A date?  No," Terry said quickly.

     "I thought your high school was having a dance tonight.
Aren't you going?"

     "Well, maybe with some friends," Terry admitted.  "I'm
supposed to be wearing a costume, but I don't really have
anything . . ."

     "Why don't you wear your costume from the beginning of Act
II?" Sally suddenly suggested.  "You really looked good in it
when everyone tried stuff on last night, and I could help you
with some makeup."

     "But . . . but that belongs to the college."

     "I'll ask Joan," Sally said, meaning the director.  "I'm
sure she won't mind if you take care of it and bring it back
Monday night."  The number ended and Joan called everyone down
front for notes.  Afterwards the performers all went to change
out of their rehearsal leotards and tights, back into their
street clothes.  Terry noticed the chunky blond chatting with the
director as he headed downstairs to the men's dressing room.

     The two other guys threw on jeans and departed without even
going downstairs, so Terry had the big dressing room all to
himself.  He slipped off his brown leotard and then looked at
himself critically in the full length mirror in the corner.  He
wasn't unattractive, and the past several years of dance classes
had done a lot to sculpt his body, but he still didn't like what
he saw.  His chest didn't seem as muscular as he would have
liked.  When he stretched he could count his ribs.  When he
relaxed his body seemed to take on a soft, round, almost feminine
quality that revolted him.  Why couldn't he look like Jim
Ragsdale?  He again thought of Jim in the pirate costume, and
again felt a stirring in his groin.  Terry quickly banished the
thought and tugged his tights down to the floor.

     Terry was bent over, pulling the tights off over his ankle
when he heard a wolf-whistle behind him.  He nearly fell down
yanking the tight off and turning around.  His dance belt had
given the observer a perfect view of his almost bare behind.
There in the doorway stood Sally, arms folded across her chest
and a big grin on her face.  Terry blushed and held the tights in
front of him as if trying to hide behind them.  "Relax," the girl
said as she stepped to a big metal cabinet on one wall.  "I've
got five brothers.  I've seen it all."  She opened the cabinet
and rifled through several containers, making selections.  "Sit
down in front of one of the mirrors.  I'll be right with you."
Terry sat on the plastic chair, wincing for a moment as the cold
plastic made contact with his bare buttocks.  He slumped forward,
folding his hands over his crotch in an attempt to cover himself.
The dance belt seemed all too little as the girl sat down next to
him.

     Sally quickly put him at ease, telling him stories about her
brothers and growing up on the farm.  She tilted his face back
and began working on him with several grease sticks and some
colored makeup pencils.  In minutes she was applying a layer of
powder to 'fix' the job, then told him to get dressed.  She
handed him the blue and silver tights from his costume and waited
as he slipped them on.  Sally then assisted him into the leotard,
pulling it out so it wouldn't smear the makeup job on his face.
She then grabbed a can of spray and a brush and worked on his
hair.  He heard a sound like a salt shaker being used and
realized she was applying glitter with the hair spray.  "Done,"
she said triumphantly.  "What do you think?"

     "My God!" Terry exclaimed as he looked at the stranger in
the mirror.  "It's . . . it's . . ."

     "It's beautiful," she said, beaming proudly at her creation.
The costume was for a ballet number from Saint-Sa ns' "Carnival
of Animals."  Terry and a girl played a fish couple.  The eerie
quality of a beautiful creature of the water looked back at him
from the mirror.  The blues and slivers of the costume shimmered
like scales of a fish, accentuated by the pastel blue makeup on
his face.  His blond hair was swept back, streaked with silver
and flecked with sparkling glitter.  Thin wisps of aquamarine
chiffon floated in the air like fins from the leg and arm seams
of the costume.  The leotard was made of a material that was a
deep azure at the bottom and gradually faded to a sheer
transparent nylon as it climbed up his torso showing Terry's
masculine chest to best advantage and creating the illusion that
he was a man magically transformed into a fish.

     "God, you are really sexy looking in that," Sally commented
as she looked at him with a critical eye.  Terry smiled shyly and
ducked his head.  "Don't do that," she commanded, gently reaching
out and lifting his chin.  "Remember, you're no longer Terry
Michaelson of Bishop Benton High.  You're the aquatic fish god of
the ocean.  Keep your shoulders back, your chest out and your
head held high.  Be proud."

     "Thanks," Terry said, then quickly grabbed her for an
impetuous hug.

     Sally returned the embrace, then slowly pulled him back to
arms length.  "Now go knock 'em dead," she smiled.

     He grabbed his gym bag with his regular clothes in it, then
dashed out the door and up the steps.  As soon as he stepped out
of the building and onto the dark campus, Terry spotted the
pickup.  With a light, excited step he ran toward it, thinking of
how surprised Paula and Jim were going to be.  Terry reached the
truck and yanked the door to see only Jim sitting there, the eye
patch and bandanna gone.  "Hi," Terry said sliding into the cab.
"Where's Paula."

     "Fuck the bitch," Jim said sullenly and slammed the truck
into gear with lots of grinding sounds.

     "What happened?"

     Jim turned and looked at Terry for the first time.  His eyes
had a glazed expression and Terry could smell the sour aroma of
beer.  "What the fuck are you supposed to be?"  Jim asked.

     "A . . . a fish," Terry said softly, slumping down in his
seat.  "What happened to Paula."

     "Dammit, if I wanted to go to the dance with a guy I could
go with you," Jim said cryptically as he swerved to miss a tree
by the side of the road.  The rest of the journey was in silence.

     In a little while they pulled into the school parking lot,
Jim banging the truck into the bumper of another car in the next
stall.  Terry quickly jumped out, but Jim just sat quietly.  "You
coming?" Terry asked.

     "In a while," the boy replied without moving.  "I ain't
walking in with you looking like that, Tutti."

     Terry left his bag in the truck and headed into the school.
At the door of the gym he showed his ID card which he carried in
the tight sleeve of the leotard.  The gym was dimly lit with
glowing pumpkins and blue light bulbs.  It was also packed with
kids in all sorts of costumes, home made and store bought.  The
collapsible bleachers were pushed up against the walls to make
room for a refreshment table.  Folding chairs were lined up
around the sides of the gym and there were several large groups
of people scattered in strategic locations.  A knot of boys stood
by the doors to the locker rooms, a group of girls gathered by
the hallway to the restrooms, and a delegation of teachers
hovered close to the refreshments, no doubt to keep an eye on the
punch bowl.  A local rock group stood on a makeshift stage under
one of the basketball hoops, blaring their music at hypersonic
volumes to a small group of enthusiastic dancers in the middle of
the court.

     As Terry looked around several people wandered past him.
Some of the guys gave him strange looks, and he drew some giggles
from the girls.  One of the guys in his theatre class walked by
and Terry stopped him.  "Have you seen Paula?" he asked.

     "Terry?" Ben said in astonishment.  "Wow, I dig your
costume, man."  Ben reached out to feel his arm.  "That's groovy.
You can show your tits and Father Joe can't say anything 'cause
you got a shirt on."

     "Where's Paula?"

     "Hunh?  Over there."  Ben pointed across the gym to where a
strange looking boy in a leather jacket stood alone.

     "Where?"

     Ben pointed again.  "That's him.  James Dean."

     Terry shrugged his shoulders and started across the floor to
the stranger.  As he walked by a group of guys, he drew a number
of whistles.  "Hey, Tinker Bell, where's the other fairies?" Bart
Smith yelled, but Terry kept his head up and continued on.

     As he drew close to the stranger he realized it was Paula.
She was wearing a white t-shirt, tight jeans and a leather
jacket, but what completed the picture was her hair.  She had cut
off the long black locks and had them greased back into a boyish
style.  There was a striking resemblance to James Dean.  She
slouched against the wall in a characteristic pose, needing only
a cigarette dangling from her lower lip to complete the picture.
She looked up as her friend approached.  "Terry?"

     "What did you do to your hair?" he asked.

     "Cut it.  What did you do to . . . your whole body?"  Terry
shrugged his shoulders.  "Jim hated my costume," she said after a
pause.  "I thought he'd be surprised.  He said he liked James
Dean movies.  We were here for about twenty minutes, then he
snuck off with Mike Myers.  He wouldn't even dance with me."  For
a moment Terry thought she might cry, but she looked more angry
than hurt.  "How did you get here anyway?" she asked, changing
the subject.

     "He picked me up," Terry confessed.  "I think he's been
drinking."

     "Where is he?"

     "In the parking lot."

     Paula purposefully started across the gym, Terry following
behind.  They were almost to the door when Bart Smith and some of
his friends noticed them.  "Hey, it's Tutti!" Smith yelled.
"Who's your boyfriend, Tutti?"  Terry slumped, keeping his head
down and walking faster for the door.  Someone stepped close and
pinched him on the hip.  Another hand quickly reached out to grab
one of his nipples through the sheer fabric.  He was suddenly
surrounded by a group of senior boys, taunting and jeering,
making fun of his costume, his makeup, his hair.

     Just as another hand grabbed his buttocks, the boys began to
fly apart.  Terry was instantly alone, watching Paula pound on
Bart Smith with both fists.  She had the boy on his back on the
gym floor and she pommeled him as she straddled his chest.
Suddenly the two were pulled apart by Coach McPherson and Father
Joseph.  The priest instantly turned to Terry who stood nearby.
"I think you and this other ruffian had better leave," he said.
"That costume is not appropriate to attend a school dance, and I
don't think you should bring guests from other schools who pick
fights.  Coach if you'll please escort these two boys out of
here."

     McPherson gave Paula a rough shove toward the door and then
reached over to grab Terry by the shoulder.  "Come on, Tinker
Bell.  You and your little 'girl friend' are leaving."  As the
three of them exited through the side doors McPherson gave Terry
and Paula each a violent shove into the parking lot.  "Damn sick
perverts," he growled.

     Rather than upset, Paula seemed excited.  "They didn't know
who I was!  They really thought I was a guy!"

     "Let's get out of here," Terry said and grabbed his friend's
hand, pulling her toward Jim's truck.

     Once there they found Jim still sitting behind the wheel,
drinking a can of beer.  He turned his head and looked at them
through an intoxicated haze.  "I better drive," Paula said.

     "Like hell you will, bitch," Jim shouted angrily as he sat
up, tossing the half empty can out the window.  "I don't even
want you in my truck."

     "How are we gonna get home?" Terry asked.  The prospect of
walking home in the dark, dressed like the two of them were did
not appeal to him.

     "Climb in, little buddy," Jim said to Terry.  Paula stepped
back, letting her friend climb in first.  Jim started up the
truck as Paula was about to climb in too.  "No!" he shouted
angrily.  "Not you."  The girl stepped back in stunned surprise.
"I want a girl, not a guy.  He looks more like a girl than you
do."  Jim then slammed the truck into reverse and it jerked back
into the lot, almost knocking Paula down with the open door.

     "Jim, I think we ought to . . ."

     "Shut up," the driver said.  He leaned over and fell across
Terry's lap as he reached out and yanked the passenger door shut.
He then struggled to sit back up, freely using Terry's body to
push against.  Once seated again behind the wheel he jerked the
gear shift and popped the clutch, screeching out of the parking
lot and leaving Paula far behind.

     They drove off into the dark.  Terry tried to talk to Jim,
get him to stop or slow down, but the driver ignored his
requests.  As they turned onto a dark rural highway, Jim reached
over and put his arm around Terry, pulling him close.  "You're my
good little buddy, ain't you?" Jim slurred.

     "Yes, Jim," Terry replied.  He was terribly frightened by
the whole situation, and yet he felt a strange thrill to be
pressed so closely against the real life body he had imagined in
his fantasies.

     Soon the truck turned and they bounced over a country lane,
then turned again and came to a stop.  "Okay, here we are," Jim
said as he opened the door and staggered out, pulling his shirt
off.

     "Where?" Terry asked, climbing out of the cab.  He suddenly
saw that they were parked just inside a cemetery, large grey
stones standing up all around them.

     "Eternal Hope," Jim said as he leaned against a nearby
tombstone.  "This was where I planned to bring Paula tonight.
Her surprise was she was going to pay me back for my favor.  I
gotta take a leak."  He suddenly unzipped his fly and began to
urinate on a nearby grave.

     "I think maybe we better go back," Terry said.  He was
feeling more uncomfortably by the minute, and being alone with a
sexy drunk in a cemetery at night wasn't helping matters.

     "But you owe me big time, too," Jim said, his words still
slurred by the alcohol.  Come 'ere."  Terry stepped closer to his
friend.  "I'm gonna get paid back tonight one way or the other,"
Jim said as he grabbed Terry by the back of the neck.  "Kneel,
little buddy."

     Terry was really scared now, not knowing what his friend was
trying to tell him.  The pressure on his shoulder slowly forced
him to the damp earth at Jim's feet.  He looked up and realized
Jim had not fastened his pants back.  His penis rose in front of
Terry's face.  "Kiss it, little buddy.  You know you want to.
Now it's time to pay me back for all those rides.  Kiss it nice
and make it feel real good."  Terry tried to back away, but Jim
reached down and grabbed his head with both hands forcing his
face into Jim's crotch.  "That's it, Tutti.  Your mouth or her
cunt, makes no difference.  Do it good and I might let you do it
again."  The tears streaked the makeup as they ran down Terry's
cheeks.  He was sobbing and gagging at the same time as his
friend raped him.  In the back of his mind, he felt he deserved
this because of all the times he had masturbated to Jim's image.
He knew he was only getting his just reward and even the tundra
couldn't save him now.  He knew his life would never be the same
again.