I wore all black except my dark blue socks, which George said would be fine.
My skin is pretty dark so I didn't bother to put boot polish on my face as he suggested. It's dark because my father was from South America, I don't know where in South America as my mother only met him once or twice and it was during what she calls her experimental period.
She remembered that he was a street magician. That he would perform on Cheap Street with cards and live animals. Her favourite trick was the one where he made a white rat disappear and then had it reappear under somebody’s hat. She liked it when one time it appeared under a man's hat and said man screamed like a woman.
Very big hands, she said, and boy did he know what to do with them! You know what they say about a guy with big hands Henry?
The other waitresses at the bar snickered at that.
Big gloves?
I was younger then. Innocent in the ways of the world. I didn't have an older brother like George did, who would explain things to me. Lucas had been with lots of girls, George told me, at least three that he'd seen.
Lucas told George that big hands meant a big penis. George said that it was bullshit. George had smaller hands than me.
I wasn't sure what to do with the information. I only knew that I didn't want to discuss it any further with my mother and the other waitresses. That would be disgusting. Like the time I heard her having sex with one of the barmen. I was only thirteen. My room is next to hers and the walls were thin.
I heard him tell her that I was probably asleep and that it would be fine. Heard her submit to him. It sounded just like she was in pain. Just like Lucas had told George and then George had told me.
Lucas said that if you were doing it right, it should sound like they're in pain but that they like it.
The first time it didn't last very long and I breathed a sigh of relief, but then half an hour later the bartender and my mother were at it again. This time it went on longer and I had to put my pillow over my head. When they went for a third time, an hour after that, I got up and went downstairs. I could still hear them so I went into the garden. I had to go right to the back fence where the trains go by, that's how loud they were.
He wasn't so bad, but my mother’s cries cut right through me.
The bartender found me there, half asleep leaning on the top of the fence. He smiled and ruffled my hair, offered me a cigarette. I said thanks but told him that I was only thirteen and that I had been told that thirteen was too young to smoke.
He was tall and wore a leather jacket. When he laughed and told me that he'd been smoking since he was thirteen I felt my ears going red. I was glad it was dark out and that he couldn't see that I was so embarrassed.
I told him that I would have one but that I would save it and smoke it with my friend George.
Still laughing he handed me a cigarette and then I watched him saunter off through the little green gate that led out into the alley. He looked like he wanted to do a little dance.
The happiest I ever saw the men at Mother's work was when our team was winning on the TV. When we scored they would all jump up and down and shout and hug each other, they would start chanting in unison.
The bartender looked like he wanted to start singing, I heard him whistling as he walked down the alley. At least I thought it was him, it could have been anybody.
I turned around and saw my reflection in the kitchen window and whispered curses to myself under my breath, as I didn't want anybody to hear.
I knew right then that this was one of those instances that I would play over and over in my head while I was trying to sleep at night. Why didn't I just take the cigarette? Why didn't I play it cool? Why didn't I tell him off for bedding my mother or at least tell him that he better not hurt her?
I often lie awake at night replaying things. Wondering how I should have acted. It's one of the reasons I think I might be going crazy. Like my uncle. He lives in a facility called Dreamwood Meadows. When my mother and I visit him he drools and mumbles incoherently. Lucas told George that being crazy runs in a family and that you're not always born crazy. That you might get crazy as you get older. I could be a ticking time bomb.
Sitting in the dark, dressed all in black except my dark blue socks, I looked at my own hands. They were bigger than George's but then I was pretty tall. Third tallest in our class. I was fifteen now and not sure if I have a big penis to match my hands. I really wanted to know. That is why I was sat out here in the dark forest but we'll come to that, first I need to tell you about Tiny Terry Peterson.
I'm not much good at talking to girls, particularly the pretty ones. Whenever I try I start to think about Terry.
No not in that way.
I think about how Terry doesn't go to school any more.
That when they tried to make him he would stage what doctors called a dirty protest. That's when you shit in your hand and throw it at people. Either that or smear it on yourself so people don't want to touch you.
Tiny Terry decided he would rather that, than face the other kids at school. The boys and girls would chase him down and hold him while they pulled down his pants to point and laugh. Terry had a rare medical condition called Micro-penis. It looked like a peanut or a weird little worm.
In the end they took Terry away and put him in a special school. Far away from all of us and his nickname. People still talked about him though. His name had become part of our vocabulary. Rumours would be spread that other boys had a Terry. They would be asked to prove it and if they refused then it was deemed to be true.
I knew I didn't have a Terry but I refused to prove otherwise. Because I was big and played sports most people left me alone. Others weren't so lucky and had to pull down their pants or face the ridicule.
Philip Grossman was the shortest guy in our year and was chased right out of the school field and into the woods before they caught him and got a look. He was red faced like a tomato and balling with tears, begging them not to.
Turned out that his was enormous and now everybody calls him Tripod. He won’t explain why he was so against showing it. I would have thought he would be proud but maybe he thinks it makes him a freak.
I know mine isn't enormous and I know it's not a Terry. But just how big is it?
Like I say I play sport well at school. I also do well in class and get good grades. Yet I can't talk to girls, I get so self-conscious and my ears start turning red.
If I knew that my penis was a good size then I think that maybe all that would go away. That I would be all that I could be, like in one of those motivational posters.
That is why I have hatched a plan. That is why I am sat in the dark dressed all in black except my socks, which are dark blue. George assures me they will be fine. No one will see me.
I should probably explain where I am. It is a place named for the famous poet that was born in our city. Arthur Love. Aside from the singer that sings that stupid song about a chicken dance, Arthur Love is the most famous person to be born here.
He wrote his most famous poem right next to where I am hiding. Underneath a giant oak tree in the forest near St Charles Cathedral. The tree is now covered in carvings made by couples because that is what you do if you live here. You take your partner down to the tree and have sex, and then you carve something on the tree. People have been doing that for more than two hundred years all because of the story.
The story we are all taught at school when we're old enough to be taught about such things. Though of course everybody knows the story before then. Lucas told George but I heard it from the regulars at my mother's work. There were lots of different versions but this is the gist of it.
Arthur Love was the son of a merchant. He did not want to follow in his father's footsteps because he was a hopeless romantic; he aspired to be a great writer. He fell for the daughter of a much richer merchant but unfortunately she was already betrothed to a much older man from a more respectable family.
The daughter fell for Arthur but kept it to herself and rebuffed his advances. Until one day, weeks before the wedding, she gave into them. The two of them eloped to the forest and beneath the now infamous tree they made love and afterwards he carved their initials on the tree. As he carved he recited a poem that he composed on the spot. Arguably one of the greatest love poems ever written.
The poem was called Matilda.
Somehow the father heard about the affair and he was furious so he sent his thugs out to seize Arthur and drag him back to be questioned. Arthur was on his knees all bloodied, bruised and broken. He had a knife to his throat and they had pissed on him. The father asked Arthur if he had any last words. He asked him what could have possibly possessed him to be so foolish. Did Arthur even care for his daughter or was it all just for sport?
And of course Arthur had no other words but the poem.
And of course the poem was so beautiful that the father and his men were moved to tears. The father was so moved that he called off the wedding with the other man and arranged for Arthur's work to be published.
And the rest, as they say, is history. All thanks to this tree. Arthur's Tree.
Lovers come here and bonk in the hope that they too will be blessed with such a historic love. At least some of them do. Some just come here for bonking.
Lucas told George that he brought a girl here only once and there was a line stretching all the way back to the steps that lead down from the cathedral. But that even though they had to wait, it was worth it.
I think that perhaps Lucas came here on the weekend because on this warm Tuesday night there was nobody here but me and the occasional squirrel.
My plan, if you haven't figured it out by now, is to wait for one of these couples and watch them have their sex and do their carving. After which I would follow them until the girl is on her own and ask her to take a quick peek.
What I need you see is confidence. The sort of confidence that a guy can only get from a girl.
You get laid.
You get complimented on how good you were.
You are set for life.
It's that simple.
Step one was to get a compliment on my penis. That had to come from a girl who'd seen a few. One who knew what she was talking about. I had heard from the regulars at mother's work that there were prostitutes who also use this tree. What you have to do is stand on the fifth step from the top by the cathedral and wait. If you waited long enough then one of the prostitutes would come and get you and take you down to the tree.
One of those would be perfect I figured. Who's seen more penises than a prostitute? I even had a tenner in my wallet in case she wanted me to pay her. For a tenner she might even touch it.
I knew I could just stand up on the step and wait for one but what if one of the regulars from mothers work arrived while I was waiting. They seemed like the type of men who would use a prostitute. They knew all about them, for one thing. Whenever Mother heard them talking to me about such things she would scowl at them. Sometimes she would kick them. She couldn't know about this.
So instead I planned to wait until after, then follow the girl until she was alone. It didn't have to be a prostitute; any girl of experience would do so long as they didn't know me. Obviously I had to wait until she was alone – I couldn't ask while her fella was still about. He might get the wrong idea. I didn't want her to touch it, just look at it.
If, however, she was so taken by it that she wanted to touch it, I wouldn't stop her. That was why I had been sporting some form of erection since I arrived. I was so very excited.
I wondered what the tree prostitutes looked like. According to the men at mother's work they were womanly, not those stick insects you saw in fashion magazines or in Hollywood
These girls had curves! Breasts and hips and lips and ass! They knew how to use it all! They were legendary!
I hoped it would be one of them and not just some girl and her boyfriend or whatever. A prostitute would be professional about it. I didn't doubt that any girl, who would come down here and fuck where anybody could discover them, would be happy to have a look for me. I could always offer to pay them if they liked. If they felt their opinion was worth something.
Mother thought I was at Ryan's playing video games. She knew I was staying there tonight. I made George promise not to follow me out here and spy on me spying on the couples. He said that he wouldn't but I can’t help but wonder if he was out here. Every rustle in the leaves made me think that I was not alone. That either a couple sneaked right by me or maybe it was Ryan out here, watching and waiting to see if I chicken out.
The beauty of my plan is that I bet George a tenner that I would go through with it. So if I have to pay the girl it doesn't matter because I would get a tenner from him. If I didn't have to pay her then I would actually make money.
Win - Win.
All the rustles had turned out to be nothing and I'd been there more than an hour. I would carry on waiting though, all night if I had to. I was a man on a mission. Tomorrow I would be armed with my newfound confidence and I'd ask out Dee from my art class. She was definitely the coolest and hottest girl I knew.
I knew that she liked me because she kept looking at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention. She won't approach me though. I have to approach her. That made sense.
Tomorrow I will seduce her.
It had finally happened.
I could hear them talking. They were coming down the steps so I had to stay very still. From that vantage point was their best chance of spotting me. I couldn't make out what they were saying but it didn't sound very friendly. They weren't laughing.
When they emerged at the bottom of the stairs I could see them.
The guy was talking much louder all of a sudden and so I couldn't help but look at him first. He was very tall with long hair in a ponytail and a denim jacket with patches sown on. He was wearing big leather boots. He didn't look very muscled but he looked mean. I was suddenly quite afraid. I was going to have to be very careful and wait until he is gone or there could be trouble.
She, on the other hand, was everything I could have hoped for. Wearing a red dress with slices cut into it and fishnet tights with knee high boots. Giant breasts that were almost bursting out of the dress.
Prostitute.
They didn't waste much time. He pushed her up against the tree roughly and kissed her.
'Mmmm' she said and then laughed. I watched her undoing his trousers as he held her shoulders. She met his gaze, didn't even have to look down to see what she was doing. A pro. I was so excited I could feel my penis desperately trying to press its way out of my jeans.
I watched his trousers drop and the moonlight bounced off his bare white ass. I almost laughed as it looked so funny but I managed to stifle it.
'Well well' she said and twanged it like a ruler on the edge of a desk. “And what are you going to do with that?”
He laughed and pulled down her tights before groping around at her sex. She moaned and shrieked in pleasure and I felt a bit dizzy like all the blood was gone from my head.
cursed myself, imagining it could have been me. Why hadn't I waited on the step and gotten one for myself? Why was I always so stupid when it mattered? I would gladly exchange all my good grades at school to have more sense when it came to girls.
This was going to be another of those instances that I played and replayed in my head and wished I had done differently. If I had gotten laid tonight I would have had absolutely no problem talking to Dee tomorrow. I would have been unstoppable.
The woman pressed his head down into her and I watched him noisily lapping the same way our neighbour’s dog lapped at his water bowl. She pulled down her dress so her breasts finally got their wish and came tumbling out. As he lapped at her she rubbed them. Moaning and laughing.
Yes yes yes.
Her breasts were just as white as the man's ass. They were like headlamps and I was the deer caught in them. My heart had almost stopped when I first saw them. It took all my strength not to break cover and run forward to get a better look.
How could I have been so dumb?
There could have still been time. I could have run and up the stairs right then and there and waited for my turn. Once the man was finished. Perhaps I would have gotten that beauty or perhaps they were working in a team and the next one would be even more sexy.
I watched in rapture as she pulled him to his feet and he thrust himself up inside her. He didn't last long. Four thrusts and then he howled in pleasure and collapsed in on to her like a party balloon that had never been tied.
The two of them stood panting against the tree for what seemed like forever. I wanted to run off up the stairs and see how much it would cost for me to have a go but I was rooted to the spot. I had to see how it played out.
'I've got to go' the man said. 'She'll be waiting'
“So go then” said the woman and pushed him away.
I watched in confusion as the man staggered away and up the stairs, leaving the woman bare breasted against the tree. He didn't pay her but I suppose it made sense that she would ask for the money upfront.
Who was waiting for him though?
As I sat there puzzling she gathered herself together and redressed herself. It wasn't until she was halfway up the stairs that I realised that this was my chance to go through with my plan.
'Wait!' I said.
She turned around slowly as I scrambled to my feet. Her eyes became as big as dinner plates. She looked furious. I had not been prepared for that. I watched as she made her way down the steps toward me. Her eyes burned into me like I was made of butter. She didn't speak until she was right up close and she smelt like cheap perfume and even cheaper spirits. I almost gagged. Up close she was a very different woman to the one I had seen under the tree. She was weathered like an old ship. Perhaps once she had been beautiful but now she had seen too many storms.
'What the fuck do you want?' she said
My tongue was caught in my throat like the last time I had tried to talk to Dee .
'I err... I am...'
She softened a bit, just enough so that I didn't think she was going to take off her boot and clobber me to death.
I looked down at my crotch and then back up at her. I took a deep breath.
I took out my penis as quickly as I could.
She looked at it and raised her eyebrows. She smiled a little.
'How old are you?'
'Fifteen'
I knew as soon as I said it that I should have lied. Another moment to agonise over later that evening and many other evenings.
'I can give you money,' I said feebly.
'I'm not a prostitute,' she said.
'Oh'
She was going to say something else but then she paused. Her face changed once again. I had seen the face before. From the drunks at my mother's work.
The ones I had woken when they had fallen asleep in their own filth with their trousers round their ankles.
The ones I had found huffing the fumes out of a cheap plastic lighter.
The ones that had tried to kill themselves but were too hammered to even get that right.
'How much money?' she asked.
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