Date: Mon, 24 Nov 2014 18:34:59 -0600
From: a a <anothernifty@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chris's Little Brother Chapter 5

Comments, critiques, suggestions, questions or other, email:
anothernifty@hotmail.com


Chris's Little Brother



Chp. 5 - 1st Day


	Mary wakes up naked with Joe curled up against her naked body in
her pink night gown. The warmth and comfort lull her back to sleep...
	She yawns and rolls over. The cool of the Daddy's air conditioning
unit wakes her up. She stretches her arms over her head and glances at the
clock. Mary shakes Joe awake. She tells him they're late for the first day
of school.
	So. Joe yawns. I hardly ever go.
	Really?
	Yeah. What's the big deal.
	Get out of bed. Get dressed. Go to school.
	But wh...Mary pushes him out of bed and he slides to the floor with
a thump.
	Get dressed.
	Owwww. Okay. God!
	Mary gets out of bed. Joe looks at her naked body fresh with tan
lines from the pool. Her small breasts and long blond hair. She opens the
dresser and starts dressing. She looks over at Joe still on the floor
watching her. She opens her eyes wide and makes a 'duh' face, Clothes!
	Joe picks his underwear up from the floor. He rubs the fabric of
the discarded bra between his fingers and looks up at his sister, engrossed
with dressing. Joe pulls it over his chest and tugs it down over his own
fresh tan lines. He slides his panties on up his long lithe legs and over
his little bald penis. Joe likes how it just disappears beneath the cute
panties. Hardly a lump to indicate there is a boy beneath his new
clothes. He shimmies his hips and slides his skirt up. He pulls his pale
sleeveless shirt on. He notices how it's now just a shade lighter then his
skin.
	He catches Mary smirking at him. What? I don't have any other
clothes.
	Her grins widens, I know.
	Joe asks if there's time to do his make up. She looks at him
wearing his new clothes with his shaggy bed head. She says he doesn't need
it. But lip stick is quick. He pulls the lipstick from the bag and Mary
gives him a couple quick pointers in the bathroom mirror. He smacks his
lips together and they jump on their bikes and ride to school. Their first
days.

	Mrs. Jeanne looks up from her computer behind the big white desk in
the office. Her expression hardens with distaste. Late on the first day are
we?  Mary says sorry. Tells her they missed the bus. Mrs. Jeanne has a
nasal and uppity voice, Overslept is more like it. And who are you two
girls?  Joe looks at himself in his girl clothes happy to be seen as
one. He can't help the big grin spread across his full pink lips. Mary
tells her their names. Mrs Jeanne quickly taps their names into the
computer. It says here that your sister Joe is actually your... brother?
Mrs Jeanne looks at him over her glasses. Joe shyly sidesteps behind Mary
and looks down at the floor.
	Mary explains that there must be some sort of mistake. She says
obviously Joe is her sister. Mrs Jeanne agrees and says she'll fix that
little mistake. She clicks her mouse and hands them both a late slip. Do
you know where your classes are?
	Joe shakes his head, No. Mrs Jeanne asks him if he has his
schedule. Joe shakes his head. The office lady prints him off another copy
and tells him directions. Joe nods and has no clue to where he's
going. Mary tells him that his grade is at the far end of the
building. Just look for the right room number. She hugs him tightly and
wishes him luck and hurries off to her own class.
	Joe stands alone in the hall, yellow late slip in his
hands. Lockers stretch the length of the shiny white tile floor. The smell
of wood soap and floor wax fills the air. Joe doesn't like to be
alone. Everything seems so much harder when he has to do things for
himself. Next to the office he sees the frosted glass door of the nurses
office. The black name plate reads Nurse Riva. He remembers Mary telling
him he should talk to the nurse about his little penis being way too
small. And also about checking his vision.
	Joe taps lightly on the door. After a moment the nurse opens the
door. A middle aged man pokes his head out asking quizzically, Yes?
	Uhhmmm..I was told to come see you.
	The nurse asks, About what? Joe holds his hands behind his back
nervously. He looks at the floor as he says, I can't see so well.
	Oh. Well come in then. Don't be shy. The male nurse stands back and
holds the door open for Joe. He walks by timidly. Very aware of his male
presence. Inside the nurses office is a small bed pushed up against the
wall with white sheets and a white pillow. There's a lot of drawers and
cabinets along the walls, which he imagines has medical supplies in
them. At the small desk is a stack of folders opened and spread out with
pictures of students. Joe looks back into the nurses smiling face. The
nurse says his name is Adam. He says, Have a seat.
	Joe asks if his last name is Reva.
	Adam smiles good naturedly, No. Nurse Riva had an accident and is
in the hospital. I'm just filling in till she's better.  Joe sits on the
edge of the bed. Hands in his lap and ankle crossed, nervous. He watches as
Adam opens a drawer and offers him a sucker. Joe smiles and thanks him. He
always liked suckers.  Adam leans back against the counter top, crosses his
arms. He asks him about his vision. Joe says some things are blurry when
they're kinda far away.
	Like how far? Can you see me?
	Joe sucks the head of the sucker between his lips and works his
tongue around the sweet round lemon flavored ball. Joe considers Adam. His
short hair parted to the left. His brown eyes fixed on Joes mouth as he
absently tastes his sucker. Smooth white tan face. Family man smile. Face
like any other normal person at the mall. Happy soccer Dad with his happy
soccer wife. Little soccer star Johnny and princess Elizabeth. Joe pulls
the sucker out between his light pink lips with a pop, Kinda blurry around
the edges.
	Adam grabs the rolling chair from behind the desk and wheels it
close, sits and crosses his legs. He points out a sign on the wall. He
clears his throat, Can you read those different sized letters on the sign?
	Yeah. All except those smaller ones at the bottom.  Joe explains
which lines are unreadable and Adam affirms that he needs glasses. Joe
thinks glasses are kind of cool. Sadly explains he can't afford glasses.
	Well you know I saw a box of lost glasses. Adam wheels his chair
over and opens a few cabinets, opens a shoe box. Yep. Here they are. He
hands Joe the box and tells him to see if any of those help him to see
those last few lines better.
	Joe sorts through the lost glasses. He puts a heavy set of round
thick glasses on his face. Adam smirks at his magnified eyes. Joe blinks
and looks in the direction of Adam's blurry figure. I can't see at all in
these.
	Yeah, you probably don't need ones so thick. Look for thinner ones.
	He finds rectangular blue frames with thinner lenses. He puts them
on and the blurry world sharpens into focus. Oh wow! Excited by the
improvement he reads of the last few lines on the sign with out a
problem. He sequels in a delighted, Yes! Pops his sucker back in his mouth
	Wow you're a lucky girl to have found those. Do you want to see
what you look like?
	Joe nods, curious to see his new look. Adam hands him the
mirror. Joe likes his rectangular blue glasses. He likes how they look on
his face above his light pink lips. He feels cuter and smart. He sucks his
sucker as he looks at himself from different angles. He pulls the sucker
out with a pop, These are super cute.
	I'm glad you like them. Adam takes the mirror back and asks if
there was anything el...
	Do you like 'em?
	...Yeah. Adam is slightly taken off guard. They look good on
you. He puts the shoe box away.
	Joe asks if he looks better without them. He removes the glasses
and blinks. Strange how just a minute ago this is how my world looked...all
blurry. Now. Joe puts his glasses back on and smiles wide. Thank you!
	Adam smiles warmly at the gratitude, You're welcome. Joe sits on
the bed wiggling his legs off the side and sucking his lemon sucker glowing
with happiness. He feels a strange sense of affection towards him. Like he
wants to be held by him. Against his chest, feeling the warmth of his
embrace. His smell. His manly arms around him, protecting him. Safe.
	Adam watches Joe suck his sucker and continue to stare at him. The
awkward silence stretches on. If there isn't anything else you should
probably go to class. The empty long hallway on the other side of the door
feels like an empty cold vacuum. In here, this room with Adam, Joe feels
his warmth. Like he is the sun and Joe is a plant soaking him in. He
doesn't want to go through the door and away. Away from Adam. Alone.
	Well actually. There is one more thing...He pulls the sucker from
his lips and points at his little penis hidden beneath his denim
dress. It's about my...woohoo.
	Adam fidgets in the chair uncomfortably and clears his suddenly dry
throat. What...uh. What sort of problems is your "woohoo" having.
	Joe laughs at how odd it is to hear that being said from someone
else. His laugh breaks the tension slightly as Adam chuckles as well. My
sister says I'm really small. Like too small.
	Adam nods his head in an positive understanding way. Well you know
(clears his throat). Sister's can tease a lot. I'm sure it will grow to the
proper proportion in time.
	She does tease me a lot. Joe pulls the sucker from his lips and
gestures at himself. I don't think she was teasing though. My brother also
says I'm small.
	Surprised, Adam's eye brows shoot up high onto his forehead. Your
brother too.
	Yeah.
	Adam straightens his glasses nervously, Would anyone else say you
have a small...woohoo.
	Joe know that no one else besides his sister and Chris has seen his
tiny little bald penis. Stan still has no idea. The secret makes Joe
giggle. Nope. Joe sucked away all the tasty sucker and the nasty taste of
the stick lingers in his mouth. He holds it up and asks for the trash. Adam
uncrosses his arms and points to the small trash can by the sink, refolding
his arms over his crossed legs. Joe walks over to the trashcan. He feels
Adam watching every move he makes, every small swish to the pleated denim
skirt, the long stride and exposed leg. His fingertips as he drops the wet
stick with the pink lipstick end into the empty trash can liner. He can
hear the faint rustle of the impact. He turns and looks at Adam. Closed off
and uncomfortable. Joe's heart beats loudly in his ears. His stomach swarms
with butterflies. He stares into his eyes and walks closer to Adam, lifts
his skirt. Maybe you can tell me if I have a small ...woohoo. Joe reveals
his cute new panties.
	Adam squirms in the chair. He nervously tries not to look at Joe's
pale slender thighs or his panties. Joe asks him if he would lower his
panties for him. Hesitantly he reaches forward under Joe's lifted skirt. I
can't... I don't feel comfortable doing this.
	Joe tells him its ok. Adam says a female should really be the one
to look. Adam pushes himself back in the rolling chair, away. Joe follows
still holding his skirt up. I want you to do it.
	Me? His eyebrows shoot up high on his head again. It's really not
appropriate.
	I don't want anyone else. I feel like I can trust you. I mean you
gave me my new glasses and showed me how much better the world can actually
look. Joe flicks his head to the side whipping his shaggy wavy hair from
his eyes and looks down at Adam in his chair. Touched, his face softens. He
look straight at his panties. Joe fills with nervous anticipation. He can
see how excited and uncomfortable Adam is, heightening his own thrill.
	Adam's mouth is dry as he breathes heavy through his mouth. His
fingertips tingle as he raises his hands up in slow motion. He delicately
pinches the fabric attempting to salvage and retain a thin shred of
professionalism. He pulls them down slightly and they slip from his sweaty
fingers. His upper lip and forehead are sweating. Why is it so hot in here?
He grips Joes panties in a firmer grip and watches as they slide down his
waist. Pale in the tan lines he slides lower over the hairless mound. Joe's
nervousness increases as he feels his panties being lowered slowly closer
to his little penis. He thinks suddenly this was a bad idea. That this is a
horrible idea. Panic hits him like a bucket of water. Drenched in fear and
indecision he stands there as Adam pulls the cute white elastic band down
to the base of his tiny little penis. He watches Adam's reaction as he
pulls his panties lower. Adam's eye brows raise as he lowers the panties
down over his small sack.
	You're a boy!
	Joe nods. He says, Now you know too.
	Numb with shock he stares at Joe's little penis quietly. Joe can
feel Adam's eyes trace over his exposed genital. The small bumps of his two
tiny testicles firmly against his little circumcised penis.
	You can touch it if you want to. Joe's voice sounds thin and
soft. Afraid that too strong of a voice might shatter this timid moment.
	Adam hesitates and says that it won't be necessary. But I have a
colleague that I'd like to send a photo to.
	Joe nods his head and smiles charmingly with his pink lips, holding
his skirt up, showing his tiny penis to Adam's cellphone. He quickly taps
out a message and sends it. He asks why do you dress like a girl. Joe
lowers his skirt and pulls his panties up. I guess I just like to. I like
people to think I am a girl.
	Adam's cell beeps. He quickly reads the text and taps out a
reply. My colleague...
	What's a colleague?
	Like a partner.
	Oh.
	Adam says that his colleague is a doctor and would like to see him,
after school today. Sure. Adam writes the address on the back of one of
Nurse Riva's card and passes it to him. You know where that is?
	I think so. Joe twists his finger in his hair as he tries to place
the address. Isn't that by the mall? Yeah. Here. Adam snatches the card
back from between Joe's fingers and writes the phone number of his
colleague under the address. In case you got lost or have trouble finding
the place.
	Thanks. Joe smiles gratefully and attempts to slide the card into
his pocket. His skirt doesn't have one. Oh...Joe looks at his attire for a
pocket and can't find one. Adam laughs. Guess this is why girls have
purses.
	Ironically...Adam rummages through a couple cabinets and pulls out
another box. I remember seeing...Yep. Adam presents Joe with a small denim
rectangular clutch purse.
	Oh how cute. It has little gold clasps at the top. Joe twists the
clasps open and places the card in his new purse. Joe embraces Adam. Thank
you.
	Adam awkwardly pats him on the back. You're welcome...Joe holds
onto his chest with his face pressed against him. He breathes in. The scent
of his laundry soup and deodorant. He closes his eyes and imagines what his
home must smell like. The scent of his pillows and sheets. Fragrant with
him. He nuzzles his head against his soft chest and looks down to see the
outline of his hard penis pressing against the fabric of his pants.
	Adam continues to lightly pat him on the back he says, Ok.  He's
trying to separate himself. Disentangle himself. Joe says that he wishes
there was a way he could show his gratitude as he stares at his
erection. That's not necessary. Joe slides his hand down over the lump in
his pants. Adam backs quickly away. His face red with shame and fear. Now
there's no reason to do that. In fact you should just go. Adam makes his
empty gesture to the door.
	Joe tries to comfort him, It's alright. Adam back away and bumps
into the wall. Joe drops to his knees and rubs the hard cock through his
pants.
	Please don't. Adam whimpers in lust and submission. Joe looks into
Adam's pitiful face and swells with wicked pride. He feels in control of
something. For once he changed a situation to his desires. The rigid penis
pressed against his hand. He unbuttons the dark pleated slacks and they
fall to the floor with a jingle from his keys. He slowly pulls his boxer
briefs down and his hairy penis springs back with a thump. Joe loves doing
that. It really wets his appetite. The smell of his warm cock and feel of
his soft hairs overwhelms Joe's lusts. Adam's cock is fat and small and
delicious looking. The succulent shape of his pale pink head almost the
same shade as Joe's lipstick. The very tip of his penis bumps out slightly
reminding him of his sucker. He wraps his soft little hand around his hard
penis and works the little tip between his lips. Chris likes it when he
plays with him like this. Joe looks up into Adams face reluctant to give
into the pleasure. Joe sucks his head into his warm moist mouth. Joe's
nipples harden and rub sensitively against his shirt. The shape of a cock
in his mouth feels so good, so right. He swallows him down to his hand and
strokes him while he savors the feel of this cock in his mouth. He makes
love to it. Adam moans deeply, succumbing to this young crossdressers
talent.
	Adam has never known he could feel such pleasure from his disused
penis. His wife hardly notices him after she had their kids. Now he hardly
ever masturbates. Rarely feels the urge. Just works two jobs trying to pay
off her growing spending habit and all the other expenses while she stays
home and takes care of the kids. Living the dream. Now as Joe makes soft
sucking sounds on his cock he feels like he is being shocked back to
life. An electric current blasting through the gray coma that his life had
become. He feels his lusts awaken and his cock harden back to life as the
atrophied muscles clench, ripple and throb. Firing his cum into this pretty
boys pink mouth. He watches Joe moan and work his cock harder as he
swallows his cum.
	 Joe felt his flimsy penis stiffen into steel in his hand and
mouth. It was very exciting. It aroused his need to work his mouth around
the slippery shape hungrier. He quickens his little hand, stroking. The
warmth and salty fluid fill his mouth. Joe loves this flavor so
much. Delicious and completely satisfying. He looks up into Adam's eyes as
he fills his mouth. Joe holds Adam's hand with his other. He strokes him
through the last throbs of his revitalized cock still standing stiff and
proudly. He pulls his lips off and a little cum drips out the corner of his
mouth. He giggles and swallows his large mouthful and wipes the stray drop
from his cheek and sticks the finger in his mouth. Mmmm. He smiles up at
Adam and kisses the tip of his cock. He stands and wraps his arms around
him. Adam half curls his arm around him. His penis feels like metal and
rubs against Joes stomach. Joe snuggles into the attempt at affection. The
warm cum sits happily in his stomach, coating his throat and taste
buds. Content. Joe turns his head and brings his lips close to Adam's.
	Adam can smell the scent of his cum in this boys mouth as he brings
his perfect pink lips to his. The soft timid touch of his lips against his
own. Little kisses along his lips.
	Joe smiles largely as Adam slightly puckers back. Adam looks at
Joe's green eyes through his new blue glasses. Deep into the broken color
of his cornea. He blinks his long eye lashes. Joe sweetly and softly says,
Thank you. Joe places his head back against his warm chest and holds
him. The feel of Adam's cock firmly pressed up against his stomach makes
his mind race with other ways to please him. Adam says he should go to
class. Joe doesn't want to. He wants to stay...
	Please. He gently but firmly disentangles himself from Joe and
steps away. If they find us like this I could go to prison. He tucks his
rigid cock awkwardly back into his pants as if he is unfamiliar with
it. This is my life. His pants jingle as he pulls them up around his waist
and buttons them on. No one can know what you just did to...Adam looks up
into Joe's sad face as he watches him put his pants back on. What we just
did. He zips his pants with quick precision. Ok?
	Joe nods. I know how to keep a secret...
	Adam tucks his shirts into his pants, smooths the wrinkles. Ok? He
looks at Joe again but sees him as if for the first time. Demurely standing
in his pleated denim skirt. His hip bones protrude from under his pale
cream colored button up sleeveless shirt. Pale pink lipstick and shaggy
long hair. He whips his blond hair from over his eye with a quick practiced
twist of the head. Adam's cock is still hard, hungry and alive again in his
pants. He fights the urge to concur and devour this cute girl boy. His body
fuels with lust.
	Joe meekly and sullenly turns towards the door then perks up. Can't
forget my purse. He picks it up from the white bed. He wants to hold Adam
again. He looks up into his eyes. His chest raises and falls quickly. Joe
feels the echo of his want and desire and goes to him. Adam stops him. He
keeps him at arms length and tells him he should go. Joe sees the intensity
in his eyes and opens the door slightly and looks back at him. Adam
standing rigidly. Somehow his shoulders seem broader. Less slumped. He
doesn't look as old or as tired. He seems fresher, renewed
somehow. Bye. Joe slips into the shiny empty hall lined with lockers and
the warm presence of Adam disappears behind the click of the door nob as he
pulls it closed.
	Alone. He leans back against the wall overwhelmed. The lingering
taste of cum comforts him. His stomach feels full and he remembers the feel
of control he had over Adam. How he used his lust like a weapon to twist
and gouge and get what he wanted. What they both wanted. Somehow he feels
less afraid. More prepared to deal with things on his own. He realizes he
forgot his schedule. He opens the door and peeks in. Adam is talking in
hushed tones on his cell phone and doesn't seem to notice him. Joe quickly
goes to the bed and picks up the piece of paper that has his schedule on
it. He looks over at Adam and makes eye contact. Adam's eyebrows go up high
onto his head and he lowers his cell phone from his ear to his chest. He
says he should really go to class.
	Joe waves the paper, Forgot my schedule. He closes the door behind
him and looks at his class schedule. There's five classes and five room
numbers. Indecision confuses him. He looks around for someone to ask but
he's alone. Briefly he considers running back in to the nurses office. Back
into Adam's arms, safe and hidden. He takes a steadying breath and tries to
think. He decides to try to the top number. He looks around for it and
walks down the long hall. He remembers Mary saying it's on the other end of
the school. He walks by classrooms filled with older students listening to
what their teachers were saying. The room numbers get larger as he walks
further. He walks by long paper welcome back banners stapled into cork
strips mounted on the walls. He bends over and picks up a lost pen. He
tests to see if it works by drawing a small smiley face on the back of his
little hand. He puts it in his new clutch purse and walks by a trophy case
proudly displaying awards from the wrestling and various teams. He looks at
the pictures of the winning team and recognizes Stan. Dressed in his
football gear, on one knee, helmet held at his side. He blushes as he
remembers how it felt to for his dick to be inside him. In passing he sees
the mean girl from the pool. Looking sternly at the camera surround by her
volleyball team. Bitch. Joe remembers the shock and surprise of her
slapping his face. The anger fuels his confidence as he strides down the
hall. At the end of the long hallway he recognizes the little black numbers
in the center of the glass door. He rereads his schedule and door
number. Well. This is it. He folds the schedule an puts it in his purse. He
fusses with his hair and skirt and twists the door nob. Them mechanism
loudly clicks open and he can feel the buzz of the classes interest. He
takes a deep breath and opens the door.
	The bell rings. The quiet curiosity erupts into the loud clatter of
tables and chairs, papers rustle and backpacks zip. The teacher walks
towards Joe and tells the class to have a good first day. Joe looks at all
the strange kids. He feels vulnerable. Afraid they will hate him. What if
they find out about his little penis?
	Who are you? The teacher looks at him.
	Joe watches the stream of faces flow by through the door. He steps
out of their path and around the teacher so she has to turn to speak to
him. Now he feels slightly less afraid with her blocking them. The teacher
asks if she heard her. Who are you?
	I'mmmm, uh...Joe remembers he left his yellow late slip in the
nurses office. The teacher sees how shy and overwhelmed Joe is. She
impatiently tries to make him feel more comfortable to speed this awkward
situation along.
	Are you Joe? She looks at the attendance roster.
	Yes.
	She erases something from the paper and wipes away the little pink
eraser pieces. Try to be on time tomorrow please. She pencils something in
quickly. Joe watches as a stream of new faces fill into the classroom. They
all look over at him as they walk by. The teacher tells him to hurry to his
next room or he'll miss that one too. Some passing girls gives him the
stink face as she walks by, What are you looking at Fugly.
	Joe slips into the hall swarming with kids and loud with
chatter. He wonder what Fugly, means. He finds his next room and moves to
the safety of an empty desk at the back of the class. His heart pounds in
his chest as everyone looks at him. Some look like they're pleased with
what they see and others look hard and mad at him, some don't meet his eyes
at all. He remember how it's just like being at the mall with his sister
yesterday. He looks out the rectangular window thinking about how far away
yesterday seems now. He adjusts his blue glasses so they sit better on his
face. And how much sharper objects in the distance seem now. He feels the
warm glow of pride and contentment swell inside him. He can still taste the
salty residue of Adam's cum.
	The teacher stops tapping at the keyboard on her desk. Her high
heels make a clacking sound as she walks to the door. The muttering of the
class fades to silence. Joe curiously watches the class as the teacher
closes the door. This is social studies and if you're in the wrong class
that's too bad because you're mine now. The door closes loudly with
finality. She laughs darkly. A small hesitant chuckle bursts out from
someone and quickly gets crushed under the oppressive silence. Joe studies
the looks on the faces of the kids around him. They all look scared and
attentive like you would if you stumbled upon a poisonous snake.
	She looks every student in the eye and each one shrinks beneath her
gaze. She looks at Joe and he feels her cold and evil malevolence pin him
against the wall in despair. Sucking warmth and any memory of happiness
from him. He feels the meaning of hope slowly disappearing and the
desolation of his soul swallow him into its empty void.
	She settles her horrible gaze on the poor kid in front of him. Joe
watches them shrivel as he catches his breath. The warmth creeps back into
his bones and he savors the feel of the other people. He looks around the
room and sees the pale face of trauma on each one. He has learned that he
never wants to feel that way again. He sits up straight and pays complete
attention as the teacher says her name, I'm Ms. Sylvia. Now can anyone tell
me my name? No one raises their hand. A curious and frightened air feels
the room as one boy in the front row timidly raises his hand. She looks at
him in silence. Joe can see every muscle in his body shaking. The pressure
of the room thickens as the seconds tick on. Finally she says the boys
name.
	His weak voice croaks out, Ms....Sylvia.
	She smiles in a pleased way and strokes his hair, Good boy. The boy
seems to be utterly beaming with happiness and pride. Joe imagines him to
be furiously wagging his tail like an overly excited dog right before it
pees on the floor. She says, It pleases me to hear how well you learn. As
long as I'm happy...(she scans each face again with her cold penetrating
eyes)...You can be happy. The class collectively exhales their held
breath. The air becomes softer and the sunlight streaking through the
windows seems to warm up. Bathing everyone in the gold of a summer
morning. Ms. Sylvia cheerily teaches her lesson and the class seem to beam
with happiness, even Joe.
	Ms. Sylvia asks if anyone knows the capital. Everyone shoots their
hands up enthusiastically. Joe feels surrounded by rigid arms and pointy
hands. Joe wants to raise his arm. Excitement burns him to raise his hand
so that hopefully she would call on him. To bask in the pleasure of giving
her the right answer. But he doesn't know the name. She picks a pretty girl
with her hair in a long braid who bursts with joy at delivering the right
answer. Joe feels as if he should make every effort and spend every minute
learning everything he possibly can so that he never feels so beneath the
class. Like an anchor dragging everyone into the filth of his
stupidity. The shame burns him like acid. He sits up straighter and vows to
listen harder and not let any syllable or vowel uttered from her lips pass
by unheard and unremembered.
	Now class everyone open their books and take out some paper. The
class quietly and quickly produce their materials. Everyone has them in
every little desk in every little row every smiling eager student has their
pens poised above their paper and books open to the same page. Everyone but
him. Ms Sylvia smiles down the rows and her face contorts as she catches
the scent of Joe's lack of materials.
	You.
	Joe feels like the world pulls away from him. The whole class turn
and look at him with expressionless faces.
	Joe wishes he could scurry away from here. Squeak and hide away
like a mouse. Instead he finds himself standing trying to hide behind his
shoulders and knees. He hears himself say, Yes Ms Sylvia? His face burns
with embarrassment. She asks him where is his book? Joe shakes with fear as
he admits, I don't have one.
	Where is your notebook?
	Joe's eyes blur and a hot tear runs down his cheek. I don't have
one. A smirking boy chuckles at him sadistically. Ms Sylvia slithers over
to the boy. Menacingly she looms over him trapping him in the dark despair
of her eyes. The boy cringes in fear. Eyes wide in panic. Ms Sylvia hisses,
Do you think this is funny? He whimpers that he doesn't. She screeches,
Then why did you chuckle at her expense? The boy breaks down and sobs
apologizing. A small puddle forms beneath his desk. Ms Sylvia softens and
soothes him, Poor wretched child. The boy looks up into her eyes eager to
please her. She strokes his hair and tells him to go get cleaned up and to
let Joe uses his materials. He sniffles and nods his head. He passes the
book and notebook back. It changes hand to hand till it falls softly and
firmly onto his desk. The boy quickly and quietly walks out the
door. Immediately after the door softly clicks closed the old janitor
appears and mops up the puddle and exits.
	Now. Ms Sylvia puts a stray hair back into place. Lets open out
books to...Oh honey you can sit down now.
	Yes Ms Sylvia. Joe sits relieved, sorry, ashamed, vindicated, happy
and sad. He opens the book to the page his neighbor has their book open to
and follows along. After a couple of minutes Joe barely notices the boy sit
back at his desk in a dry pair of pants.
	The bell rings and the class remains seated and quiet. Ms Sylvia
waits as the sound from the hall gets louder with shuffling feet and
lockers opening and closing. She smiles warmly and the whole class basks in
her glow. She dismisses them and wishes them a good rest of the day. Joe
watches the boy grab his back pack and exit. He follows him to his locker
and gives him his books back. He nonchalantly says thanks.
	Joe apologizes to him. The boy looks at him surprised and tells him
it's ok. He closes his locker and hurries to his next class. Joe walks by
the old janitor waiting by Ms Sylvia's door with the yellow mop bucket and
brown mop handle sticking out of it. The old janitor smiles fatherly and
explains every year at the beginning of every class someone always leaves a
puddle. Joe feels lucky it wasn't him as he walks by to find his next
class.
	The rest of the day passes uneventfully. At lunch he followed his
class down to the large gym lined with brown tables with stools attached to
them. He waited in line, was handed a tray. He slid it along the metal
rails like the rest of the class. The people on the other side slopped
clumps of food on their beige plastic trays. Joe looked at them as he
passed. Dressed in white coats and pants. They wore cloudy white net things
on their hair and some of the men had to wear them on their faces. Joe
guesses to cover their facial hair. Although it looks almost as if they
were protecting themselves from the food they slop. At the end of the rails
a bored old lady looks down at him, Name?
	Joe.
	Last name? Joe tells her and takes his tray and timidly wonders
down the rows of tables till he finds a seat by himself. He watches the
kids talking and eating. Some laughing some indifferent. Joe drinks his
milk watching. Wondering about their life and what homes they go home to.