Date: Mon, 28 Nov 2005 12:58:14 -0500 From: joseph green Subject: Snowflakes Ablaze Donny had touched Clarks penis. It was enough . Long lonely nights with the urge to pull at his boyhood and no one to fantasize about. But now... now things were different. Donny had touched it. He hadn't really touched it. He had brushed it with the back of his hand. But that was fine. It was enough. He now had a friend. Maybe a boyfriend? It wasn't a proper full handed feel but instead it was a gentle glancing brush as he reached for the bottle. Other guys had friends. Donny had Clark; and only Clark. Other guys enjoyed the luxury of a father that would tote them around the city to various sporting events but Donny had a father that was a good provider. Some guys had fathers that would stay up past bed time under the security light learning how to catch a baseball or pass a football of kick a soccer ball, but Donny had a father that was always about man things like mowing the lawn or napping. Donny could do a few things with his dad. He had made the best eggs in the world once. He knew this because once he had fried two over easy eggs for his dad and not broken the yokes. His dad said, "These are the best eggs in the world." and gave his mother a kiss. When Donny's mother explained to him that Donny had cooked he whispered to him. "Good eggs boy, but I don't want you doing sissy things again." But he had made the worlds best eggs. That's what his dad said. On Monday mornings other boys stood around talking about staying up late to see the last inning of the baseball game but Donny did not have cable TV nor was he interested in a game he did not understand. On Tuesdays in the autumn the same boys would talk about football or soccer. Donny would stand by the tree at the bus stop and just listen; trying his best to decode this odd language. Maybe one day he could engage one of his friends with a good insight in the game or a brand new unknown fact about a player. That would be a glorious day. That day would probably never come. But he could make eggs and he did touch Clarks penis. The only other thing Clark's dad had ever said that cold be construed as a complement was during what came to be know as "the sex talk". his dad stopped n the middle of pointing out the necessities of marriage when he said, "just because you have a bigger Johnson than other kids your age does not mean you have to use it. If you get a girl pregnant don't even bother coming home. That's what my dad told me and that's why I married your mom ten years ago." Donny had latched on to that bit of information. He had a big Johnson. He tucked that tit bit away for future use. He was already thinking about summer at the pool and how he could buy a Speedo and trade it for his jammers. If he was really that big he might earn attention by showing it off in an acceptable way. But summer was months away. It was a cold March day as Donny walked along River Front street on his way to the coffee shop for his father. He repeated to himself, "black, Columbian, one sugar". Donny had met Clark the day before on the playground. He was new in Miss Shackers class. He had to leave Miss Hoggans class because of constant fighting and disturbances. His desk was right next to mine. Front and center of the class. Donny liked being here where he cold be called on for quick answers and where everyone could see that he was their. Sometimes when you go a few days without another student it might feel like your not there at all. But not Donny. Even if he didn't speak to another kid he spoke to the teacher. That was enough. A few snow flakes fell as Donny made his way to Kirk's Coffees. It occur to Donny that March snowflakes are born with a certain urgency. What he did not suspect was that the innocence of early adolescent boys had the same urgency. They both seemed to melt away all too soon. Donny did not know it yet but his innocence was about to go down in flames. Clark came up behind Donny. Clark recognized the beige Hurrly hoody Donny had worn all week to school and even with the hood still up he jumped on Donny's back and said, "Ride `em cowboy." Donny was not sure who it was but out of need for a real friend, instinct and desperation he obeyed the command and galloped right past the coffee store. He let his arms go limp so his rider could slump off. It was Clark. It was amazing how his face looked so grown up. For an eleven year old boy his jaw was chiseled and his dark eyebrows were thin and tight. His deep blue eyes were close set and his short cropped brown hair hid under his own army-green hoody.