Tuesday September 14, 1993

Soft voices…whispers…the quiet breathing…an inconspicuous throat clearing…the smell of the incense…the flickering of the candles…a circle of friends. It’s easy to become addicted. There’s something so magical within the magical. I never thought any of it would feel like that…so amazingly special. It makes my soul become so light…and then I feel that lightness spreading to the rest of me.
   During Sunday’s coven meeting, I envisioned pulling myself inside out. The thought came as most other thoughts do when one thinks them: fast, crashing through whatever they wish. I wanted my viscera exposed to that magic…I wanted the outside to enter in or the inside to exit out…a physical inversion of some kind…of any kind: a drop of water in mid-air, or a bubble in the sea. I didn’t care…I just wanted it…that feeling…to be everywhere that is me…in every cell…in every bone…lighting me up from the inside, from the outside…like when you hold a strong flashlight against your palm and you see all that red in beautiful fluorescence shining from the back of your hand. I wanted that. But everywhere. What would that feeling be called? Love? Bliss? Illusion? I don’t know…but I know where it stems from.
   Them. I see their faces, my friends…and the way the shadows dance upon them…it’s an unbelievable magic…a greater magic…far stronger than any ritual we could do…any spell we could cast. I hope I’m not the only one who feels it. And I hope it isn’t wrong of me to feel it. I’m here for the reasons I’m supposed to be here…but I might be guilty of loving the fellowship far more than the worship. Or are they one and the same?…feeding off of each other?
   Who knows…
   I keep studying though…I keep reading books. I keep memorizing and researching, tying as many connections together as I can. I’ve been focusing on paganism in general. I’m not entirely convinced on Wicca…or any of the other neo-pagan beliefs for that matter. I truly love certain elements about them…but I hate gaps that keep surfacing in the histories. Gaps leave way too many risks for lies. I want to understand a faith completely…grasp its origin, its identity and purpose…strong and never changing…a rock…a pillar. I don’t need another Christianity.
   It’s still too soon to tell. This isn’t a science and there’s really no kind of logic I’m trying to follow here. But sometimes I feel like everything I read is a piece of the puzzle…and maybe if I collect all the pieces, I can actually start putting the picture together. I think it’ll be a while before I have all the pieces…maybe never. Probably never…not unless I devote my life to it…make it my profession…become a scholar. But do even they have all the pieces?
   For now, I’m latching on to more traditional pagan religions—and by traditional I mean ancient. I’m not fully satisfied with anything yet…but I’m willing to adopt and listen to anything that speaks truth to my soul.

later

My sister gave me another ride to the library this afternoon. I told her I’d only be ten minutes tops so she’d wait for me. Afterward, I asked her if she wanted to go to the mall, which can sometimes be a thirty minute drive…but she said sure anyways and readjusted her plans.
   “I told Shannon we’d hang out today…so, we’re gonna have to pick her up. Cool?” she asked.
   “No problem.”
   Shannon and my sister have recently become pretty good friends. I like her…much more subdued than all of Mary’s previous friends. Shannon’s like this sweet girl…long wavy blond hair, a pale face, soft-spoken, and kinda shy actually…or maybe I’m confusing that with polite? But…heheh…I actually think hanging out with my sister and her crew has been corrupting her a little bit. I’ve never snuck outta the house with my sister when Shannon was around, so I don’t know what she’s like when she parties. I should make time…but I’ve just been more caught up with the coven and my studying. Maybe this weekend I’ll ask my sister to count me in on their next outing—that’s if the coven doesn’t have anything going on, of course.
   “Hey, turn into this subdivision,” I said from the backseat. Shannon was in the car with us already…and—on a whim—I figured why not bring a friend of my own.
   “Why?” my sister asked.
   “To pick up Crow.”
   “Ooo-kay…”
   She turned and I gave her directions to Fool’s Crow’s house. I ran out the car and knocked on his door. His mom opened it.
   “Well…hello, Billy…” she said. She’s always so warm when I see her. No wonder Crow is so easygoing and so…well, sorta gentle and mild-mannered…and always in a good mood.
   “Hello, Mrs. —— . Uhm…me and my sister are heading out to the mall and…well, sorry to come unannounced, but I was just wondering if Crow could maybe go with us. We won’t be too long.”
   “Sure…yeah, Billy…no problem. Crow!”
   I could see him walking toward the door, somewhat expressionless…but as soon as he noticed me standing there, I wanted to laugh. The recognition on his face was awesome…like a light switch.
   “What’s going on?” he asked.
   “Grab some shoes, man,” I said. “We’re going to the mall.”
   “I’m fine with it,” his mom said…and walked away. “Have fun…close the door behind you.”
   “But what for?” Crow asked me.
   “Just get your ass out here…I got my sister waiting.”
   “Ooooh…”
   He walked out the door, shoes in hand.
   “You’re such a fucking idiot,” I said, laughing.
   “Is that a blondie too?”
   “Yes, Crow…yes it is.”
   “Yummy…”
   But once we got in the car, there might as well have been a partition. Shannon and my sister endlessly carried on about their troubles with boys. Crow and I discussed shamanism in Nordic pagan cultures. Heheh…kinda silly when I think about it. Very nerdy indeed. But thank goodness—no numbers and no sci-fi. We ain’t doing too bad.
   All I wanted from the mall was to visit the bookstore—the New Age section. The well at the city library has pretty much run dry…and I want more…I need more…to learn more. There’s not a drawer of the card-catalogue I haven’t ransacked, no trail I haven’t exhausted. I’ve even followed the careers of select authors in case they explored similar topics in other books. There’s nothing left for me to find, no stone unturned…if there was one wiggling grub left in the place, I guarantee he’d be in my tummy.
   “Yeah…this is definitely much better than the library,” I said, standing in front of the New Age sign.
   “Oh yeah…” Crow agreed.
   So many fucking books…on precisely the same subjects I’m wanting the most! But I could maybe buy one. Didn’t have a lot of money.
   “Man…I just wanna shake these shelves out into the biggest trashbag and run out the store with them!”
   Crow laughed. “You’re thilly…”
   “You wanna?” I asked.
   “What?”
   “Steal a couple?”
   “You serious?”
   “Yeah…maybe…a little five finger discount.”
   I laughed. Even I couldn’t tell if I was serious or not.
   “Hush up, boy,” he said. “Not in the mood to get arrested.”
   “Yeah…I guess me either.”
   I picked up a book.
   “Yeah…don’t bother,” Crow said.
   “I wanna learn about the Druids.”
   “And I’m telling you, don’t bother. There’s nothing to know that you don’t already know.”
   “What are you talking about? They’re interesting as hell…and it’s hard to find stuff on them.”
   “That’s what I mean…those bastards took all their secrets with them. They didn’t write anything about themselves.”
   “Or maybe they did and the Christians destroyed it.”
   Crow laughed. “That’s impossible…you’re talking a few thousand years before Christ. You’re almost as bad as Sparrowhawk. Blame Christians, ask questions later.”
   I shrugged my shoulders. “When the Hebrew god is responsible for more genocides than any other god…can you blame me?”
   “Well I don’t think he’s responsible for this one…maybe the Romans. But the point is…whatever you read about the Druids, it’s all hearsay…mostly written by Druid-haters…so you can’t really depend on any of it.”
   “What about archeological finds? There’re clues there.”
   “Interpreted by modern men.”
   “…who are educated in ancient religions.”
   “But never practiced any of them for themselves.”
   “Screw you, I’m buying it.”
   “Suit yourself.”
   “I at least wanna know what the clues are…”
   “It’s cool…now this is more like it,” he said, picking up a book with a sexy witch on the cover. “Yeah…ride that broomstick.”
   I laughed.
   “So when do you think we’re gonna do stuff?” I asked.
   “What do you mean?”
   “I don’t know…I just wanna do stuff…take things further. Sometimes I feel like Shadow and Mercer are taking their precious time. I get the importance of ethics…why we gotta keep magic pure and untainted…but I don’t know…sometimes I feel like they’re scared to take it further.”
   “Maybe they just wanna make sure we’re really prepared.”
   “Yeah…maybe…but that doesn’t mean we can’t start with simple things now. Like seeing auras. Mercer should teach us.”
   “Yeah…I kinda agree…we should be starting stuff. Why don’t we just ask him?”
   “You ask him,” I said.
   He giggled at me…loudly…not caring he was in public, not worried about being seen or heard sounding like a little girl with ponytails. It cracks me up…but at the same time makes me look around for any familiar faces. I hate that about myself. And I knew it then…as much as I know it now. So I defied it…that thing that makes me feel embarrassed about anything and everything…and I let out an even greater giggle. A beast of a giggle. A giggle so loud and full and thick and high pitched…it echoed its way back to me.
   All the murmuring voices in the bookstore hushed for a moment.
   And Crow and I died of laughter.

~

Next Entry: Thursday September 16, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Sunday September 12, 1993

No rap music?! I mean…I hate rap music…but still…no rap music? No beats?! This a party? Feels like church. HA!
   Friday night.
   The party—if that’s what they wanna call it—was nothing more than a mild gathering, watered-down bullshit. Bland rock music played in the background—barely audible—while we sipped sodas from waxed paper cups. Conversations were muted chatter dusting up the air…about as annoying as a fly buzzing round my head. What the fuck? Where the hell was the bass…and the alcohol…and the dancing…and the hooting and the hollering and the laughter that goes on and on until it feels like days turned into weeks turned into waking dreams where I sit up and still hear it echoing back and forth in my ears?
   In another life I suppose.
   The party was in Megan’s empty garage, spilling out onto the driveway. I sat on a fold-out chair somewhere in between the two. My sister had dropped me off earlier that night…when the sun was still out. Only a handful of people had arrived before me, Peggy included. The two of us chilled with Megan for a little while until Mark showed up. Then it was me and Megan.
   “So…you expecting a lot of people?” I asked.
   “Oh…I don’t know…hopefully nothing too rowdy. Are you?”
   I wanted to laugh…just one of those awkward questions where you can’t figure out if a person is serious or fucking with you. This was her party, not mine…but alas, I decided to go with a serious response—much safer—and then quickly changed the subject.
   “Well, I didn’t really invite anyone. How have you been anyways?”
   “Oh…pretty good…and you?”
   I pretended to ponder the question…just as I pretended so many other things that night.
   “Not too bad,” I said.
   “Good…uhm…I should make sure there’s ice in the bucket.”
   “Okay.”
   She stood up and went inside the garage. Good riddance.
   As soon as I spotted Crow getting out of a car, I ran toward him, screaming out his name in absolute delight and throwing my arms around him. I’ve learned that nothing embarrasses him. Doesn’t make it any less fun…though I’ve learned to tread carefully…cuz when he wants, he’s definitely more than able to embarrass the hell out of me.
   “’Bout fucking time,” I said. “Some decent company.”
   “What am I, the third wheel?” Shadow asked. He had gotten out from the other side of the car.
   “Always,” I said jokingly. “Hey, Mrs. —— . Nice to see you again.”
   “Hi, Billy…will you please keep mine in line tonight?” Crow’s mom asked.
   “Of course.”
   “I had a feeling I could count on you,” she said and smiled. I still don’t really know how to take that. Mom’s can be weird. “Well, you boys have fun.”
   Farewells. Doors closed. Car took off. And the three of us walked down the driveway. Peggy came to meet us with Mark’s arm around her shoulder. Friendly chaos ensued…hugs…a conversation between Shadow and Mark and a different one between Peggy and Crow. I just kinda stood by, listening in for a sentence or two and then letting my eyes wander off back up the driveway…hoping to see Heather’s mom’s car…the same one that comes for Heather every Thursday afternoon.
   “So where are Sparrowhawk and Moonshadow?” Peggy asked.
   “They ain’t coming,” Shadow responded.
   “Why not?” I asked.
   Shadow simply shrugged his shoulders.
   “So Shadow,” Mark started. “Blah blah blah I’m an ogre…blah blah aren’t I cool cuth I’m a thinging ogre…thon’t you like me cuth I’m tho thmart and thpecial…blah blah oink snort oink meow woof mooooo…hey baby, will you get me a refill?”
   Oh hell no…ugh…get it your damn self.
   “As if…get it yourself,” Peggy said. Hurray! My Peggy.
   He bugs me so much. It isn’t the macho shit…whatever…I’m a guy, I get it. It’s just his…I think it’s his arrogance. Or maybe it’s just good old-fashioned jealousy. I don’t know. I voice my opinions frequently enough…sometimes jokingly and sometimes in complete seriousness. When she asks me to stop, I do…and when she tells me that she loves him, I listen. I hold back when it’s appropriate…there’s a time and place for everything, right? But still, he treats her like shit…and the suckiest part of it all is that Peggy actually agrees…and the weirdest part of it all is that she really doesn’t put up with his crap…and the craziest part of it all is that she still stays with him! Does that make any fucking sense? Girls are so silly sometimes. Silly is the perfect word for girls actually. Silly silly creatures.
   Mark went off to get his refill.
   That’s right…get away. Go hover somewhere else, creep.
   “So where’s this girl you’ve been telling me about?” Crow asked me.
   “I don’t know…she said she would come.”
   “Isn’t that what they all say?” Shadow asked.
   “You’re filthy,” Crow responded.
   Peggy laughed.
   I had an intense desire to punch Shadow in the face. Never, of course. But it just came over me and washed away just as quickly.
   “You all know Mercer wants us to meet tomorrow at my house, right?” Shadow asked.
   “And Sunday, no?” Crow responded.
   “Both days?” Peggy asked.
   “We got a lot to do,” Shadow said.
   “Why don’t we all just have a big orgy at your place tomorrow night?” Crow suggested.
   “You wish,” Peggy said.
   Crow looked at her funny. “I do,” he said. I’m pretty sure Peggy was blushing, but even if she wasn’t…the look on her face just cracked me up. I busted out laughing.
   “My parents would probably be cool with it actually,” Shadow said, interrupting our fun. “Except for the girls.”
   “So we get left out again,” Peggy said.
   “Well…would your parents actually be cool with—”
   “Hell no!” she said.
   “Alright then.”
   “I’m sure we can come up with something,” I said.
   “If someone can, it’d be Billy,” Peggy told them. “But unfortunately, I think this one is beyond you,” she added, to me.
   “I’ll start plotting,” I said.
   “I always knew you were sneaky,” Crow said, looking at me.
   “Purty sneaky,” I said.
   “Yes…him and all those books of his,” Shadow said, raising his eyebrows at me. Ha ha.
   “Well, I’m gonna go find my boyfriend,” Peggy said.
   “What for? You gonna go dump him?” Crow asked with that funny look again.
   “You—” she started, then reconsidered…quick study. “Oh, bite me,” she said and went into Megan’s garage with the other fun people. I just realized I was at a party—ahem, gathering—with Peggy’s group of friends…the ones I avoid like a plague. Huh…weird.
   And finally…the car I’d been waiting for…with the girl I’ve been longing for. I took a deep breath, held it, dared my legs to move, felt my body go…and in a quick instant of clumsiness I was scraping clothed knees on driveway.
   Seriously?! I thought this shit only happened to dorks in movies! I wanted to throw up right then and there, to hide away from the world and maybe even cry a little—my usual routine when humiliation stops by for a cup of tea. But what I actually did was like nothing I’ve ever done before…certainly nothing I’d ever expect from myself. Perhaps something in me was saying enough’s enough, Billy…for crying out loud…do something! (I think writing this shit down helps tremendously, cuz when I read through it…it’s like I’m seeing myself through a stranger’s eyes sometimes…and it makes me want to be different…act different…feel emotions differently…learn from people like Crow. Anyways…)
   I laughed. I have no idea where it came from, but I rolled over on my back and laughed and laughed. I could hear Crow and Shadow laughing as they drew closer…and I could hear Heather as well. I think I could even smell her.
   “Are you okay?” she asked, smiling down at me like an absolute angel.
   “You see what you do to me?” I asked.
   “So this is my fault?” she asked back.
   “Oh absolutely…you gonna help me up?”
   Shadow offered up his hand. I looked at him briefly, but curiously. He’s so strange sometimes.
   “What? Don’t you trust me?” he asked.
   “No way,” I said, still laughing a little and getting up without anyone’s help. “This is Shadow, by the way,” I said to Heather, introducing the two. “And this is Fool’s Crow.” I patted down my pants.
   Everyone said hello to each other.
   “So where’s the party?” Heather asked.
   “In the garage,” I responded. “C’mon…I’ll introduce you to Peggy so she can introduce you to everyone else. But I warn ya…they’re a bunch of losers…nowhere near as cool as the three of us.” Referring to me, Shadow, and Crow of course.
   I went back and forth throughout the night…mingling. Peggy made the rounds as well. Heather latched on to Shadow and Crow over anyone else at the party. And I actually loved that…for like a minute. Fed my hope. She preferred my friends…and if she thought they were cool, maybe…just maybe…she’d think I had a trace of that coolness in me as well. Pathetic. But at least I’m aware.
   Pegasus even stayed true to her word. Every now and then she’d throw an arm around me and say something nice or “sweet” that was supposed to sound flirty…but it always came across as a friendly compliment and nothing more. She won’t win the Oscar, but it’s cool…she tried.
   The rest of the night was shit. I really don’t have the energy to get into it…plus I got books to read and rituals to study and spells to plan…it was an educational weekend…not much drama to write about…just information…knowledge, especially from Shadow and Mercer…but anyways…I did wanna mention…
   Hanging out with Heather in a social setting ended up making me feel worse. Surprise surprise. I thought it’d work to my advantage somehow…but no…how could it? I’m socially awkward enough as it is…throwing this kind of stress on top of it all? Bad idea. But that’s not all. There were things about Heather I had never seen before, parts of her personality I had not known were there…especially her flirtatiousness. She was all giggles around Shadow and Fool’s Crow, touching them a lot, laughing and throwing her head back in that seductive way only girls can do. Jealousy was inevitable. It went rushing through my head in mighty pangs, pushing against all my fake smiles and all my make-believe gaiety and almost successfully undoing them. I really loved watching her like that—happy and flirty—but I wanted it to be directed at me. Of course, it never was. It never has been. That much is evident, and it all became very clear to me. And the more I stood and talked and listened and died, the more my jealousy shapeshifted into anger. I didn’t know at what…but it was there…taking over me…eating through all that stood in its way. Perhaps there wasn’t only one source…perhaps the anger stemmed from everything…from Pegasus insisting I invite Heather…from Mark’s constant presence in my face though we never spoke a single word to each other…from Shadow and Fool’s Crow receiving the kind of attention I have been yearning to receive…from Heather knowing how I feel about her and unabashedly showing me no consideration. If I knew someone felt a certain way about me, I’d like to think I would respect it, especially if I still cared for their friendship. I wouldn’t flirt with others in front of that person…and if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be with that person’s friends. It’s like saying, “You are meaningless to me. You don’t exist. How you feel about me is your problem…not mine. I didn’t ask you to love me…and I don’t give a shit that you do.”
   How am I supposed to react to that? How am I supposed to stand there and witness it, feeling my heart breaking more and more each second? People like that…they’re so amazingly selfish…they are all that matter to them. So how do I react when the girl I love shows me a face I’ve never seen before? An ugly face? I can’t just shut out my emotions at the snap of a finger…I can’t just stop. I wish I could.
   I should hate her…get over her once and for all…rid her from my life. Why keep someone around that makes me feel this way?
   Because I love her. And I’m not one to easily give up.
   Goddamnit! I’m like Pegasus with Mark. I’m a fucking girl! This is such bullshit!
   But in the end, I do what I do best. I shapeshift the anger back into a smile—my favorite disguise.
   I was glad when the night was over.
   Hurray. Goodnight.

~

Next Entry: Tuesday September 14, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Thursday September 9, 1993

My sister’s been pretty cool at playing chauffeur lately. She gave me another ride to the library yesterday and earlier this afternoon she picked me up from school after the Echoes meeting. I got a nice earful too…the latest updates. I was a little disappointed to hear the drama regarding Patricia and Ramon…seems like things didn’t exactly work out. It actually made me sad a little cuz I was sorta rooting for her…for Patty—despite her bitch outburst. She’s a great girl…I probably just caught her off guard that day and her meanie words were nothing more than a reactionary defense mechanism. I don’t know…whatever. I don’t plan on approaching her anytime soon anyway.
   My sister’s gone right now. She invited me to sneak out the house with her, but I just wasn’t in the mood and I’ve got maybe twenty things I’d like to get done before laying head to pillow. I’m in bed as I write this…ugh. That pillow won’t stop whispering my name. Shut up! I got shit to do.
   I’ll probably still be awake when Mary comes sneaking back in.
   While at the library yesterday, I returned two of the four books I had checked out on Tuesday and grabbed another three to take home with me. The material on the shelves is very limited. I’ve already flipped through the pages of every book available, browsing and skimming through lines for topics of interest. I found numerous other sources in the process, an array of relevant articles (some proved to be not so relevant), and various histories and real-life stories concerning the occult, paganism, and witchcraft. I need to absorb as much as I can, interpret whatever needs interpreting, consume whatever knowledge I’m able to gather. But the thing is…no matter how much information I try to retain, it seems like my brain keeps dying out on me like a faulty flashlight you gotta hit every so often, and all this stuff keeps getting confused and mixed up in my head. I forget a lot of the little details, and I constantly have to go back to review a word or a sentence  cuz I know that true understanding must be carefully shaped.
   During lunch, I regurgitate all that I learn with Fool’s Crow. He adds his input and we discuss and often debate the ideas. Talking things out with him actually helps deepen and reinforce everything I’ve been picking up. And he’s awesome to endure my ramblings. Sometimes I think he actually gets me going on biblical matters on purpose. But whenever Moonshadow and Sparrowhawk join us, we give it a rest. It’s so strange, actually…cuz I thought we were all in this together…but ever since last week I feel like I need to pull back on the enthusiasm.
   I didn’t think that’s how it would be. In fact, not once has the coven been discussed when the four of us have sat together in the cafeteria. I don’t get it…but whatever. I’d bring it up, but I hate starting shit. And as long as I’ve got Crow, I’m totally alright. Besides, I’ve got enough to worry about. Sleep deprivation for one. I’ve been walking around the halls like a zombie, sneaking naps during a few classes…even the non-boring ones.
   I’ve let research take precedence over everything in my life this week. I suppose that’s a good thing cuz I haven’t done much Heather pining lately. It doesn’t mean the two of us have been on hiatus. Far from it…we’ve actually gotten closer. We always talk before, during, and after class and we’ve spoken briefly on the phone every night this week. And no, it’s not me doing the calling…not always. Heheh. I tell myself I should try to avoid her more…but that ain’t happening. My feelings for her keep growing. Every time I look at her I think she’s more beautiful than the time before…like this amazing daily transformation taking place before my very eyes. And I just wanna be a part of it…I wanna transform too…with her…to appreciate everything that she is in more ways than I already do. I know it’s a fantasy, but I don’t care. I know that being in her presence makes me absolutely miserable, but I don’t care. I know that I love her and that my love isn’t wanted, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. Let it hurt. Let it hurt. I don’t care how much…I just wanna stay right here…even if right here means alone.
   Sometimes I talk about it with Peggy…but I think all I do is convince her more and more that Heather is a bitch. I have no idea how that happened. But on the phone last night, Peggy offered up another possibility.
   “You never know,” she said. “Maybe the dumbass wasn’t ready for a boyfriend…and when she said no, that’s all she meant. Doesn’t mean she won’t go on another date with you.”
   As soon as she said those words, it was like a thousand glorious fireworks going off at the same time. I was so caught up in all my stupid self-pity that I never even considered it…I just assumed the worst without giving myself a chance to prove it otherwise.
   “You really think so?” I asked.
   “Well…you never know, right? I mean…you guys still talk a lot…she wouldn’t call you if she didn’t like talking to you.”
   “But that doesn’t—”
   “But you never know! How about you invite her to the party on Friday?”
   “What?”
   “Yeah…this way you guys can totally hang out in a more…social setting. She’ll meet your friends…she’ll see how much we love you…she’ll change her mind…and you guys will be humping in no time at all.”
   I laughed at the notion.
   “Yeah right,” I said. “I wish…and besides, that first date?…I’m pretty sure that was a pity-date.”
   “Okay…stop it, Billy. First of all…no one pities you more than you. And second of all…enough wallowing! Just ask the girl out on another date already, pissy-pants!”
   Ahh…haven’t heard that one before.
   “I think you should try,” she continued. “Just give it one more chance…maybe she’ll surprise you.”
   “I don’t know.”
   “Just do it, will ya? Please? For me?”
   “For you?”
   “Yeah…for me…so I don’t have to put up with your whining anymore. Come on…take her to the party on Friday…we’ll have a blast…and oooh…I’ll flirt with you a lot…you know, to make her jealous. That’ll totally get her going.”
   “Won’t Mark be there?”
   “Oh, don’t worry about him. Just do it, ’kay?”
   “I’ll give it a shot.”
   And I did. Not right away of course…I had to mentally prepare myself for the task.
   I sat outside with Heather this afternoon…on our usual bench. Echoes had just let out.
   “You know, if you want…you can tell your mom my sister can take you home on Thursdays,” I said.
   “Nah…that’s okay,” she said. “We actually do our mom and daughter bonding on Thursdays…go to a store or get some ice cream or whatever we feel like doing.”
   “Oh…okay. Just thought I’d offer,” I said quickly, shrugging my shoulders. “How many d’you get, anyway?” I reached for her proofreading folder.
   “Just two.”
   “Well…wait for the end of the school year…we’ll be taking stacks home with us.”
   “Sounds like fun…and what the hell was up with —— ? The guy’s a total creep.”
   “He’s okay.”
   “Of course you would say that! You’re a boy!”
   I laughed.
   “Damn proud of it too,” I said.
   “You’re all a bunch of sexist pigs.”
   “It just depends on the girl.”
   “Screw that.”
   “Well what would you prefer?”
   “For him to keep his opinions to himself.”
   “You mean for him to censor himself?”
   “Sometimes it’s for the best.”
   “That’s fucking bullshit coming from you…”
   “I know…he just makes me wanna slap someone.”
   “You can slap me if you want.”
   “I so knew you were gonna say that.”
   “Cuz you set me up for it.”
   “Whatever. Are you calling me a tease?”
   “No comment.”
   “HA! Like I said! You’re all a bunch of sexist pigs!”
   Goddamnit!
   “Fine, you win,” I said. “I bow to you, oh royal feminist highness.”
   “Cuz sarcasm is always appreciated.”
   “I am but your humble student.”
   “Man, you’re on a roll today.”
   “Why thanks…but you’re not laughing.”
   “I keep it all inside,” she said.
   “Well you should share.”
   She gave it a ponder, then shook her head. “Nah…”
   “I’m going to a party tomorrow night,” I said. “I’d like for you to go with me.”
   Her whole face changed. Here went nothing.
   “A bunch of my friends are gonna be there,” I added as all the self-doubts I had managed pushing away started crawling back in. But I kept my eyes glued on her face…it was crucial…and I saw her defenses going up in her eyes…in the tightening of her cheeks. It was a lost cause…no need to finish the conversation. Her face said it all.
   Not this again.
   “As a date or as a friend?” she asked.
   “Whichever you’d prefer,” I said…pretending indifference.
   “That’d be fun,” she said. “I’d love to go as a friend.”
   Of course.
   You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But it’s like I love setting myself up for disappointments. I wish I had the balls to ask her why she doesn’t like me. I wish it was proper etiquette for me to demand an explanation and for her to go down her list of reasons (Why Billy Is Not Good Boyfriend Material). But I suppose not knowing is better…the knowing would probably be more than I could handle anyway…especially if there are things I can’t change about myself. But what if I could change them? I would change them. For her…I’d do just about anything. I’d grovel to the ends of the earth and back, scraped and bleeding…and do it all over again if she asked it. But I have a feeling it still wouldn’t be enough. There’s no law that states just because I love someone, they must love me back. Life doesn’t work that way…and I’m gonna have to deal with it.
   Can I deal with it?
   I don’t know.
   But still…here I am…ever hopeful…trying to keep in mind what Peggy said yesterday. Heather and I will go to the party and we’ll go as friends…but maybe we’ll have a good time and something will spark…maybe she’ll even see me for the first time…and in her eyes I’ll be more than a four-eyed geek with a taste for horror books…and all those unfair assumptions she’d written on that list will begin to be crossed out.
   Hell, maybe she’ll even make a new list.
   Why Billy Would Be the Best Boyfriend EVER!
   But now that I think about it, Heather really isn’t a list person.
   In fact, neither am I.

~

Next Entry: Sunday September 12, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Wednesday September 8, 1993

Sometimes evil comes to surface if it knows you well enough. And after all the fires that I’ve started…all the hypotheticals I’ve attempted…perhaps I’ve set myself up for it…perhaps I’ve been leading it on…and it thinks that we’ve been best friends…maybe even lovers. But we’re not. I didn’t mean to give it the wrong idea. And now there’s no undoing it. I can feel its touch upon my skin…digging into me. I think it’s been digging there for a while actually…crawling inside of me like some massive worm whose body stretches out eternally.
   I have closed my eyes so many times and hoped—again and again and again—that it isn’t just me and me alone in here…that there are other things—yes, maybe even worms—anything that is separate from me come to wait its turn…hoping I let go.
   But I’m incredibly patient. I call it my killing grace.
   I’ve trained myself well in the art of waiting…so perhaps we’re a perfect match. But at the end of the day, I’m only human…thus, the err. I know what happens when I let go. I’ve twice experienced the rush of it…the absolute gratification of it speeding through my veins like effortless bliss. Evil has leaked out of me before…I gave into it and allowed it to enter the world through me. I tell myself that it was only me tapping the valve…letting out steam…relieving the pressure…no big deal. But I think of my deeds…
   One had no malice…I knew no better…just a childhood curiosity. But the other…I knew what I was doing…evil had a smile on its face…my face…it was inside me, pushing me forward…willing me to act…and I obeyed…and I cried…for days and for days. It takes a lot of tears to swim your way back out of a hole…and those depths were deep…too deep to endure the aftermath…too deep to go unpunished. I was ten years old and I got as far as drenching myself with charcoal fluid to stop the evil from ever leaking out again.
   But I was too much of a pussy to strike the match.
   Since then, I have sacrificed so much of who I am to conceal myself…or is it really to protect myself? I guess it doesn’t matter. I pretend to know so many things…but never me…myself. I forget who I am…I forget what I look like. I suppose vampires feel pretty much the same way…except I actually cast a reflection.
   Sometimes in front of the mirror I catch a glimpse of it…this dark green thing waving back at me from the glass…void of any good…void of redemption. But then I realize something: wake!…hold the night for me…there is redemption! It’s called guilt. And wake!…bring the torch for me…there is good! It’s called shame. My two most prevalent emotions! My true saviors! My anchors! Without them I’d simply float away…up up and…
   I do admit…I hate how fucking consistent they can be…but I suppose their reliability provides an unusual sense of relief. It sets me apart from them…the psychos…the real-life monsters who kill and pillage and rape and destroy without an ounce of remorse. And it teaches me that guilt and shame is to be embraced…whether I like them or not. It’s so easy to hate them…it’s so easy to push away what keeps us safe.
   But what about that ten year old who held the match in his hands? Did guilt and shame keep him safe?
   I hate words sometimes…they can justify anything, rationalize anything, debate every issue from every perspective…and I always get stuck in these little moments of indecisiveness. Just pick one already! But I agree with so many things. Sometimes it’s better not to think at all. Like right now…I have so much to write about, but is that what I’m doing? No…I’m rambling on about absolutely nothing, just letting my brain steer this pen across the pages because I don’t wanna think about anything at the moment…and I don’t usually condone stream-of-conscience either. The latter = creative cop-out.
   Pause.
   My dad had asked about the charcoal fluid…demanding to know who spilled it. It had seeped into the ground…stinking up the sideyard. I confessed…just an accident…but how can that be an accident?…I don’t know…and thank goodness when you’re that young it’s easier to get away with not making any sense. He made me hose it down.
   Shortly after that incident, I turned all my attention to God and faith. I had recently taken my first communion so I suppose everything was still fresh in my mind. It certainly seemed like the most sensible solution at the moment. I think that’s the way it goes for a lot of these born-again Christians. One little mindfuck and they fall to their knees. I know how it goes, so I guess I don’t blame them. Sadness, pain, and fear are the greatest motivators when not a loaded gun.
   I was very similar. I dove in head first as I usually do…obsessed and determined…wanting to suck all the information I could find. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I prayed for forgiveness…in the mornings, before bedtime, before every meal. I prayed for life and beauty and my family and the world. I prayed for the kids without mommies and daddies, for the kids without food and clean water, for the kids without a nice comfy bed to sleep on and a roof to protect them from the rain. I prayed for the people in wheelchairs, for the people in the hospitals, for the sick and for the dying and the Godless and the hopeless. And when I realized recitation was unimaginative, I became uninspired. So I created the most wonderful image of God in my head and we began our conversations. He was so merciful and compassionate and unconditional…and I believed in Him wholeheartedly. He was my everything. I worshipped Him…gave myself to Him completely. And sometimes I’d dare a selfish favor. Please…please don’t let me wet the bed tonight. Please…please don’t let me grow any blinder. Please…please don’t remind of that stuff…don’t let the nightmares in…don’t let the sadness come.
   And despite all the great thoughts God and I had shared together, not once did He pay any attention to my small requests. And I didn’t blame Him. Why would I? They were quite self-centered after all. Eventually, I stopped bringing them up altogether. But my brain is never satisfied…it always continues to question. If I’d’ve been Eve in that garden I would’ve eaten the whole fucking tree and childbirth would have split me at the limbs.
   And so something else began to plague me. God knew everything there was to know about me. It’s what I had always wanted…for someone to know me completely and still love me. But when I feel loved, I can’t help but want to love back…nurture He who nurtures me…hold He who holds me…know He who knows me. I needed to learn God more intimately.
   The only way to make that happen was to pick up the book entirely devoted to Him and read it. I’ve always had so many questions anyway. At catechism, they gave me half-assed answers for some of them…most went completely ignored.
   But as I flipped through those pages, soaking Him in…my ten-year-old ideology came crashing down. I discovered the awful truth. God had betrayed me. He had kept it all hush-hush. I’m the gentlest most loving being there is, He had said. But He had fucking lied!!! God was not merciful, compassionate, or unconditional. He destroyed cities on a whim, kingdoms at the snap of a finger. Not once did I read of His remorse…not once did I read of His attempts at forgiveness. He’d only point the finger, pass judgment, and kill needlessly. Are we not to follow by example? Are we not made in His image? Then let’s kill all who trespass against us…let’s be arrogant when compassion is most asked of us. Stand in the corner, take your medicine…and by God if you turn around I’ll turn you into a pillar of salt! There’s a punishment that fits the fucking crime.
   Good one, God…where was the lamb then?
   What a prankster…to make whores of good men’s wives for the promise of great nations.
   How is that a loving master?
   It’s a clever joke and I want no part of it.
   So…uh…where does that leave me? Have I come into existence to simply banish away someday? Am I to return back to the oblivion I was yanked from? I don’t think so. I still sense the otherworldly…I know it’s there…here…all around me. I know there’s a soul inside this body…and it’s calling out to me. I just need to find it…to really find it.
   And I know the coven will help. I believe in us, despite that annoying voice in my head that taunts me.
   What are you doing? This is stupid. Are you for real? Isn’t this a bit of child’s play?
   Aren’t all religions?

later

5:36am…I’ve been trying to sleep. Have to wake up soon. And I’m so fucking tired…but as soon as drowsiness carries me away I have one more thought and it snaps me back out of sleep with a gasp. I process it…and then it happens again a minute later.
   Yawns so tasty. Heh.
   My mom just woke me up…fuck…shower.

~

Next Entry: Thursday September 9, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Tuesday September 7, 1993

Sunday’s journal entry really kicked my ass. I sorta had to cheat with it cuz I got so tired…couldn’t keep my eyes opened. I actually finished it yesterday. I wanted to capture as much about this weekend as possible. Don’t really know how well a job I did…but I guess it doesn’t even matter. It’s good enough. Twenty years from now I should be fairly satisfied…if I’m still around that is.
   I had a bizarre dream last night…can’t call it a nightmare cuz there were no screams involved, but I haven’t been able to shake off this inconsolable sadness since waking up.
   I was looking up into an arched ceiling…stained dark plywood running from walls to junctions, the surface chipped and rough and water spotted from decades of leaks and unhindered mildew. It was clearly a small room…and I was lying on a metal bed. It squeaked when I moved. The comforter I clung to was ocean blue and the sight of it made me feel sick…like really sick…to my stomach. I lifted my left arm into the air…examining it…very much like Mercer had done with his arms on Friday night, come to think of it. Except I saw no aura, though I’m sure there was one to see…and I saw no IV, though I’m certain now it was there…clumsily shoved and taped onto the inside of my elbow. What I did see, however, was skin…thin, pale, hairless skin…wrinkled skin, chipped and rough and water spotted…old skin.
   I was old…very old…dying old. I tried to cry out…but what came out was something more pathetic…a muffled groan that didn’t even feel like it was coming from my throat. I focused on the sound of it, my heart racing…a distant beeping singing along from somewhere else…somewhere much closer than panic could accurately measure…and I was swallowed up in it.
   I heard the creak of a door coming open and calmed myself enough to look. A figure walked into the room. I tried to understand what I was seeing, but the confusion was so organized…so logical…so plain to see…that my eyes could not focus on the obvious.
   “Hello, Billy,” said the kid.
   It was me. The kid was me…wearing my face…using my voice…except…well…he was prettier…better looking…no glasses…his hair made sense…and his skin!…so young and olive and vibrant and silk-like. I wanted to scream at him whatever contempt came to mind. I wanted to run at him…to throw him against the back of the door…to choke him while lifting him up in the air, demanding no explanations…only that he take it off—my body—and give it back to me.
   But my legs would not obey me. I was bed-ridden…I was bound to that disgusting swirl of ocean blue and life support machineries. But I was able to find my voice…and as soon as I made the discovery I let it engulf my throat, let it ricochet around my skull until it spat forth from my mouth as the angriest and most hateful sound I have ever heard.
   “I’M NOT BILLY!!! STOP CALLING ME THAT!!!”
   It’s not what I had meant to scream…but it’s what came out nevertheless. The panic turned into hysteria…uncontrollable sobs and cries…my chest aching from the incessant gasping.
   The kid took my hand into his and caressed it lightly.
   “It’s okay, Billy,” he said.
   “Why? Wh-why is…why’s it okay?”
   An old man’s voice…a dying voice…shaky and alone…the sound of absolute misery.
   “Because he’s watching,” the kid said.
   “I-I-I don’t…care abuh-bout that. Just let him watch!”
   “Calm down, Billy…tell me…what’s—”
   “Why do you to waste your youth on me when I…I barely touched my own?”
   The kid looked genuinely puzzled.
   “You mean you don’t know?” he asked.
   I shook my head.
   He laughed.
   I woke up…his laughter still in my mouth…an old man’s tears in my eyes.
   What gloom.

later

I spent maybe an hour yesterday reading through several of these entries.
   I chase after the scary stuff? I really do have a flair for the dramatic, don’t I? Heh…and then I complain about Donny…but then again, I don’t go around jerking off dogs. I wish I could insert an actual sound effect into this line—one that imitates the pleasantries of vomit. Instead, I’ll have to settle for an onomatopoeia…but which one? Hurl, puke, ralf, barf…hmmm…they’re all so anticlimactic. I’d kinda want it to sound more like hoorlwrahwlf. It’s a mix…but I guess it’ll do.
   And going back to chasing scary stuff…yeah, sure…the attraction has always been there…but I mean, how much chasing can I possibly do? I’m only fifteen, a dependent, no means whatsoever…there’s only so far I can really take it. And would I want to go any further? Who knows…this is practical Billy talking right now and we all sorta flow in and out of each other. There’s never any telling when a different Billy will take my place.
   What’s so scary anyways?
   My dreams are scary…even the sad ones.
   I think sometimes I’m scary.
   I think I might be evil.

later

My mom knocked on my door.
   “What?” I said.
   “Open.”
   “For what?”
   “Abre aqui ya!”
   Fuck…what’d I do?
   I stood up from bed and opened the door.
   “What is it?” I asked.
   “I cannot believe you would do this to me again!” she yelled.
   “What? What’d I do?”
   “I thought maybe you had learned your lesson from that time with —— , but no! You just had to go tell one of your little friends something that I told you because I trusted you because you’re my son!”
   I knew immediately what she was talking about.
   Oh Donny…please tell me you didn’t!
   “Do you know how humiliating it is to have Donny’s mother call me…to ask me…why I think her son is gay???!!!”
   “Mom, I—”
   “You better fix this, Billy! You better fix it now!”
   She held up the phone to me.
   “How could you do this to me?!” she asked. “I am so embarrassed!”
   “Mom…I was only joking around with him…”
   “I don’t care!”
   “No, mom…listen…I told him in a joke, but not just you…everyone else. I included everyone…and I was only joking…but I guess he thought I was serious…and he really likes you so I bet he took it way too serious when I said you thought he was gay too…he believed me…but I said it in a joke…not for real.”
   “Billy…don’t tell me, tell his mother…now…fix it.”
   She shoved the phone into my arms.
   I called his house.
   I lied to Donny’s mother…told her the same thing, though a little less desperately, and I assured her that my mom loves Donny and enjoys having him over at our house.
   I lied to Donny as well. I told him my mom never said it…that I had been so upset when he did what he did that I just wanted to hurt his feelings for being such a perverted fuck.
   Though now I realize that pervert isn’t a suitable word for him. A pervert is a horny old toad goosing pretty young things as they walk by. That’s acceptable.
   What Donny is…there’s nothing acceptable about it.
   I found my mom in her room a little later on…once I had gathered myself enough to confront her again. I felt so ashamed. I had betrayed her in so many ways. She was lying in bed, watching her telenovela. I lied down beside her and put an arm around her.
   “I’m so sorry, mom,” I said.
   “Just promise me you won’t do it again…ever.”
   “I won’t…not ever.”
   “This is my house, Billy. I can’t be watching what I say in front of you. If I say something to you it’s because I love you and you’re my son and I trust you. I don’t want to be afraid of saying things to you.”
   “I know, mom. You won’t have to be.”
   “Good…and you should choose your friends more carefully…that Donny’s so strange…and I do think he’s gay.”
   I laughed.
   “I know you do,” I said.
   “I think it even more now.”
   She laughed too.
   “You’re not gay, are you?” she asked.
   “What? No! Why?!”
   Hearing my mom ask me that question was absolutely unsettling. I’d rather watch Donny jerking off a horse than ever hearing her ask me that again.
   “Just asking,” she said.
   Does she think I am?

later

“What were you and Donny fighting about anyways? What made you tell him that?” Peggy asked. We were speaking on the phone and I had given her the details of my night, including the details of Sunday afternoon in Donny’s backyard. Except I left one part out.
   “Nothing really,” I said. “He was just still going on about me seeing the movie before him.”
   “You mean without him?”
   “Yeah,” I said, laughing. “I guess.”
   She already thinks shit of him. No need to fuel her fire.
   Oh…and before I forget…I had my sister drive me by the city library today. I checked out four books on the occult. They’ll all be read by the end of tomorrow night.
   Not if I keep writing.

later

It’s almost five o’clock in the morning. I’m so tired…but I can’t find sleep…not really. I’ve got all this stuff running through my head. I finished reading one of the books…so much information. I wish I could write it all down, but there’s no point. What I’ve learned tonight is but scratching the surface…the tip of the iceberg. And now I’m combining idioms too. Maybe that’s sleep a-coming. But I wanted to write one more thing. Because I can’t get that dream out of my head. And all this mysticism around me…it makes me feel like anything is possible. So I threw a question out there…I directed it at that kid…that prettier version of me. I asked him for an answer to that final question I had asked…though I knew not why I had asked it. It really was a strange question…but I’ve learned to accept that only dreams understand their purpose. And suddenly the answer came. He had heard me…gave me a response. Not in voice, but in thought. I just knew the answer…just like that. I asked…and the answer came. And the funny thing? The ironic thing? The answer came in the form of a question.
   Who else would remember me?

~

Next Entry: Wednesday September 8, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Sunday September 5, 1993

That boy’s got some serious problems. He’s a sick fuck! Just when I thought Donny couldn’t get any stranger, he pulls a stunt so unbelievably messed up it actually took me a few seconds to truly understand what I was witnessing. If only I had seen it coming I would have stopped him before he even got started.
   Last night was pretty miserable as it was. Watching Needful Things a second time was certainly the highlight. But it was clearly evident Donny had no intentions of having any fun. I had even been on my best behavior, catering to his usual whims and subject matters…and I had friends in my pockets! What was there not to be happy about? As soon as we got dropped off at the theater, we went behind the building to smoke them.
   “Glad my sister doesn’t mind giving ’em to me,” I said, hoping to spark some sort of conversation. He had been short with me since the moment I got in his parents’ car.
   “Yeah…” he said with a fake chuckle.
   “I can’t wait for you to see this movie…you’re so gonna love it!”
   “I hope it’s just as good this time around for you,” he said. His tone didn’t convince me it was a genuine sentiment.
   “It totally will be,” I attempted. “I’ve actually been really looking forward to it.”
   “Good…so how was dinner with your family last night?”
   “It was okay.”
   “I tried calling you.”
   Concern.
   “When? Last night?” I asked.
   “Yeah.”
   “Oh…I didn’t know.”
   “Well, nobody picked up.”
   “We went out for dinner.”
   “I guess that explains it.”
   “Uhm…I guess so.”
   “It sucks you’ve already seen the movie.”
   Oh for Christ’s sake!
   “Dude, I’m psyched about seeing it again. It’s fucking awesome, so drop it. What’s with you anyway?”
   I should’ve known better. Goddamnit!
   “Nothing’s with me…I mean…you’ve already seen this movie…so there’s really no point in us seeing it, is there?”
   “Well, you wanted to see it…so I figured I’d go with ya…keep you company.”
   “So what, you feel sorry for me?”
   “Dude, no…just thought you’d be cool with it.”
   “Well I’m not cool with it—”
   “Do you wanna see something else instead?”
   “No…I want to see Needful Things!”
   “Well that’s what we’re doing!”
   “I could have come with Renee.”
   “Renee in a scary movie?”
   “She would have done it if I’d asked.”
   “Would you be giving her a hard time right now?”
   “No…cuz she knows what being a true friend is all about.”
   I wanted to hold back any more words. To think I could ever reason with him is always a mistake. He only knows his reason…anybody else’s becomes an idea to discredit. And having to justify myself gets very fucking old, especially for something as ridiculous as that. I know what I did was fine. Why he continues to view it as a personal attack is beyond comprehension. And why he agreed to hang out with someone he’d be pissy at all night long was equally as puzzling. I wish he would have asked Renee. She puts up with his shit way more—and way better—than I do.
   But I found it much too difficult holding back last night…at that moment. I hadn’t been ready to give it up yet…I still had my patience and pride in defense mode…and they didn’t mind the practice.
   “A true friend?” I asked.
   “Uhm…yeah,” he said, as if it were the most obvious response.
   “Dude, you haven’t even asked me how the date went! My first fucking date…and not one hey, how’d it go?”
   “Well you never brought it up so I figured you didn’t want to share.”
   “That’s a fucking ridiculous answer.”
   “Uhm…no it’s not…you know how you are.”
   “How I am?”
   “Yes…all secretive about shit.”
   “What the fuck are you even talking about? I’m talking about going out on a date! Not fucking jacking off for the first time!”
   “Well you never know…maybe you guys ended up doing it.”
   “Oh please.”
   I actually started laughing.
   “So did ya?” he asked.
   And for once, he sounded genuine! He was serious! He actually wanted an answer to that question.
   “What if we did? What’s it to ya?”
   Okay, I admit that one was unnecessary…but I’ve earned the right to reserve the right of entering asshole territory.
   “Nothing,” he said. “If you did…you did…big deal.”
   “Well…dude…of course we didn’t. It was our first date…and it wasn’t even a very good one…very awkward actually.”
   “You guys gonna go out again?”
   “I don’t think so. I asked her out at the end of the night…she turned me down.”
   “Oh…”
   “Yeah…”
   “Well, we should probably get inside…movie’s about to start.”
   “Cool.”
   After the movie, my friend came back to me…his usual self: funny, witty, crass, and gross—his best qualities. And now as I write this—knowing what’s coming next—it actually pisses me off a little…because I know his tune didn’t change for me…he’s much too selfish for that. He wasn’t like oh let me stop giving him a hard time cuz his little heart got broken. No…the true source of his transformation was an age-old refrain: misery loves company…especially present company. If the situation had worked out differently—if I were the happy boyfriend to a girl who loves horror—he’d still be throwing a tantrum…running around like a headless chicken, scrambling for more resentments to puke up all over my face. Sometimes I feel like he is a great big fag.
   But whatever…at least I got him off my back for the rest of the evening.
   We ended up renting three horror movies afterward and stayed up most of the night watching them. It’s pretty much what we do when we sleep over at each other’s house.
   Today we woke up, had breakfast, and played the Friday the 13^th game on his Nintendo.
   “Let’s go jump on the trampoline,” I suggested later on.
   “Are you serious? I don’t even know if it’ll still hold us up.”
   “Oh please…why wouldn’t it?”
   “Alright…let’s go find out.”
   Donny’s fenced-in backyard is huge. His whole house could probably fit ten more times back there—an open field of grass with nothing but a trampoline at its center. We used to jump on that thing for hours at a time when we first became friends, acting like complete idiots and laughing so hard my chest would be as soar as my legs. I miss those days.
   Does puberty change us that much?
   We went out there through the back porch, down the stairs, bypassing his basement. His dog Loomis was wagging his tail at us. I ran toward him and started petting him. He’s a lovable dog, kept tied up despite the chainlink fence around the field. I always feel bad for him when I see him, sitting beneath the one solitary tree in Donny’s backyard.
   “Hey, Loomis,” I said. “Hey, fellah…you’re always here all by yourself…all tied up when all you wanna do is run around this big yard, huh? Why are they so mean to you?”
   “Because he jumps over the fence,” Donny said defensively.
   “Awww…Loomis, you hear that? Why don’t you tell them to just get you a taller fence?”
   “Cuz then he’ll probably dig under it.”
   “Then what about a longer rope? I mean, this rope is ridiculous…he can barely move.”
   “Tell my parents…don’t tell me.”
   “How about you tell your parents?” I said, and for cautionary measure I added, “But please don’t tell them it’s coming from me.”
   Donny has a tendency to tell on me like a fucking five-year-old little brat. It’s so embarrassing when he does it. I have never ever ratted out a friend to my parents…no matter the mess they left behind or whatever they may have accidentally broken. I have always taken the heat, confessed it as my fault…always! Why risk any additional damage? Why let my parents think less of a friend? Especially if it could potentially impede our friendship? No reason whatsofuckingever…which is why I lie. I did it, mom! I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry! Oh…no…he wasn’t even in the room when it happened…
   It’s called having a little fucking tact, something Donny just isn’t programmed with.
   “You wanna see something crazy?” Donny asked, discarding all my worthy points concerning Loomis’s unhappy life.
   “What?”
   “Watch this…”
   He got down on his knees and started petting Loomis playfully, cooing at him in that fake and overly obnoxious funny voice everyone uses on babies and dogs. He got Loomis down on his stomach and then rolled him around on his back. Loomis was loving the hell out of it, panting and licking…probably the most attention he’s gotten from anybody in a while—which is why I don’t really see the point of anyone ever having an outside dog.
   “Doh doh doh doh…wob wob boo…wooby wooby.”
   And then all innocence went running for its life.
   Donny was jerking him off…just…right there…out of nowhere…in plain sight…in broad daylight…for the whole world to see…just stroking him like I suppose he strokes himself. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Realization didn’t come flooding in right away…I thought Donny was still being playful, petting his dog…his miserable dog tied up to the one and only tree in that field…a sad dog’s life bound to absolute hopelessness with maybe six feet of rope…and that might even be generous…but there was a dog house…and a bowl of water…an empty plate…the essentials.
   What life to live! To be further humiliated…to be deeper depraved! The calamities of he with a pervert master!
   And what is that? Red…fleshy…wet…biology…exposing itself.
   Knowledge.
   Instinct finally took over. I reacted, pushing Donny away from his dog.
   “What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled at him.
   Poor Loomis rolled back onto his paws and started licking his…himself.
   Donny was all giggles. “Isn’t that crazy?!” he shouted back at me like a madman, as if it were the most amazing thing he could have ever shown me.
   “You need some fucking serious mental help, man! Don’t ever fucking do that again! It’s your fucking dog! No wonder he tries jumping over the goddamn fence all the time! I don’t fucking blame him!”
   “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asked.
   “With me?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”
   “Lower your voice…we have neighbors.”
   “Yeah…no wonder your neighbor was stalking you…cuz he knew what kind of sick things you were doing back here.”
   “Oh please.”
   “What? I mean…you’ve obviously done it before.”
   “And I promise never to do it again, okay? Happy?”
   “I don’t give a shit. It’s the fact you’ve done it. It’s disgusting. You’re a fucking pervert. You really are, Donny.”
   “I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
   “Screw that…I mean…that’s fucking homo shit…and I ain’t a homo.”
   “Well neither am I.”
   “Then stop acting like one.”
   “I’m not!”
   “Really? Cuz you seemed pretty pleased with what you were doing.”
   “Well I wasn’t.”
   “No wonder people think you’re a fag. Dude, even my mom thinks you’re a fag!”
   As soon as I said it, I regretted it. But God…it felt great saying it! I was so pissed off.
   “Your mom?”
   “Yeah…my mom. Can you blame her? Let’s just go back inside.”
   “I thought you wanted to jump on the trampoline.”
   “Not anymore…you’ve tainted it for me.”
   “Don’t be so dramatic, Billy.”
   “Whatever.”
   Forgive and forget…I’ll try my best.
   Now…on to more important things…like Friday night.
   Once everyone arrived at Fool’s Crow’s house, we all pitched in and cleared the floor in the upstairs bonus room, talking and laughing in the process. It was only a five minute task, but it helped us break the ice. Crow set up a makeshift altar in the center of the room, using the same black cloth that had been draped over the nightstand in his bedroom. Some of the candles made their way into the bonus room as well, though most of the stuff placed on the altar had come from Shadow’s bookbag: ceremonial tools, artifacts, and other random materials—their purpose still unfamiliar to me at that moment…but I was watching, observing, learning. I’m confident I’ll pick it up in time…all of it.
   Mercer called for attention, beckoning us into a circle around the altar. I took my place between Crow and Pegasus. Once we were ready, our High Priest and High Priestess were signaled to begin. Shadow and Moonshadow proceeded with their duties of casting the circle, invoking the guardians and the elements. Shadow was by far better rehearsed…clearly not his first time. Moonshadow held a cheat-sheet in her free hand as she recited the necessary incantations. (I’ve been studying those same words…and I think I’m about a third of the way to having them fully memorized.)
   The circle was cast.
   We sat in the silence of the darkened room, the candlelight flickering and making strange shapes of the shadows around us. All I could feel and focus on was a brutally intense anticipation for whatever came next. I don’t think any of us knew what that would be. We were looking to our leader to tell us…to show us…if he knew…or to figure it out if he didn’t.
   “I’d ask each and every one of you why you’re here,” Mercer said, “but I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed with your answers. Instead, I’m going to tell you why we’re all here…and if the answer is any different from whatever’s going through your mind right now…then I suggest you change it.”
   He let his words sink in and then continued.
   “We are here to recognize magic as our guide to spiritual enlightenment. We come together as a coven so that we may teach each other and learn from each other. Our knowledge and our faith must go hand in hand…and we must help each other implement them into our everyday actions and into our rituals as a coven. We are here to exercise and nurture ourselves into worthy manipulators of ethical magics. They shall be passed down to us from the elements we will call, the gods we will invoke, the guardians we will tribute, and the universe which has made us and has blessed us. These are the reasons we are here. We come together as like-minded brothers and sisters. We will love and trust each other…and we will love and trust our coven. I ask no less of myself. I will ask no less of you.
   “Now…as for this title of leader I’ve been hearing about…I may have started the chain that brought us together, but I’m certainly not your leader. However, I will reserve final say when necessary and contribute managerial duties whenever they’re asked of me. These duties are simple burdens: scheduling meetings, assigning jobs, attaining supplies, etc. Sometimes supplies will cost money. I’m not rich, so we’re simply gonna have to pitch in. If you’ve got an extra dollar, please donate it. If you don’t, fine…but try anyways. I’ll keep a treasury going which can only be used after votes have been counted. And let it also be known that where this decision is concerned—and every other decision relevant to our coven—majority rules will never…pass…a final…verdict. Any change being decided upon must be all or nothing. We’re not a country…we’re not a government. We are a humble coven. We either make unilateral decisions or risk jeopardizing our trust in each other. When we vote, if but one of us resists…no modifications will be made. We must make this promise to each other or I guarantee we will not last. Does anyone not understand why this is?”
   He waited.
   I understood everything he was saying, though I found it somewhat strange. Mercer is the embodiment of logic, but logic can be skewed depending on the goal. And if we are all to remain individuals, that could mean our goals will vary along the way…and what then? Compromise?…for the sake of the coven? Not necessarily…not always…not if the situation makes it so that it’s the coven who must compromise for the sake of only one of its members.
   Wow…actually, that is a beautiful concept. Mercer’s a genius.
   But no…wait…fuck…I don’t wanna ask.
   “What if one of us just wants to be an asshole and…votes against everybody?” Moonshadow asked.
   Exactly!
   “If you can prove someone’s vote is vindictive or spiteful, then you may certainly bring it to our attention,” Mercer responded. “I promise we will deal with it accordingly.”
   “Alright…cool,” she said. She seemed satisfied with that answer. I know I was.
   “Anyone else?” Mercer asked.
   No one responded. I glanced at Pegasus, who sat to my right. We smiled at each other.
   He continued.
   “I’m sure conflicts will come up. In fact, it’s a certainty. But all conflicts are circumstantial. Let’s not waste time with unnecessary scenarios. Just try to remember that although we may not always allow an entrance, we will never restrict the exit. You are free to leave whenever you want.
   “Alright…now, concerning schedules: please try to work your life around coven meetings. I’ll try to keep everyone in mind but if too many conflicts keep coming up, some of you may be missing a meeting here and there. Because I don’t want this to be an issue, not every meeting will be mandatory. But please show up for mandatory meetings…especially if something extremely urgent needs to be dealt with. I despise carrying around excess baggage. This isn’t a joke to me…it’s not a club. I expect you all to be serious about it. If you’re not, I promise it’ll catch up to you…and the rest of us will not hesitate kicking you out. Are we clear on that?”
   Mumbled approvals.
   Mercer meant business…and I loved him for it. I felt reassured that my devotion to the coven would not be alone. Prior to that moment, I had begun taking so many little doubts into consideration…I had allowed the idea of us pretending to be something we weren’t to plant its seeds. But all those doubts and fears were like shadows…and Mercer’s voice this great light that shined from every direction. This was no joke…this was no pass-time…this was no Dungeons & Dragons role-playing bullshit…this was no costume party with white paint for our faces and black for our hair, nails, and lips…this was no dark unhappy gathering of forbidden smiles and expressionless eyes. We are normal guys, normal girls, normal kids, easily dismissed, easily underestimated. I’d spend forever right there with them. I’ll be trying my best to do so…cuz when I looked around at them, I knew they were it…an instant love…and the instant Fool’s Crow had invited me in, I was like a vampire…but instead of pledging death, I was pledging loyalties to each and every one of them.
   I’ll be damned if anything gets in the way of that.
   “Good,” Mercer responded…and continued. “Now as you already know, Shadow has been chosen as our High Priest. We should look to him for spiritual guidance. He might not look like much, but I trust him completely.”
   A few chuckles.
   “And he has chosen Moonshadow as our High Priestess. All that is feminine will be invoked through her…but more on that later. I’d really like to shut up now. Shadow, would you mind taking it from here?”
   “Not at all,” he said.
   We all shifted our attention to Shadow. It was a strange unison.
   “Alright,” he started. “One of the things Mercer said was that magic should be our guide to spiritual enlightenment. This is totally true. Magic should be our guide. But sometimes it’s so easy to take it for granted. We start thinking of it as our tool…and we forget that it was never ours to begin with. And yes…I’m speaking from experience here. We can’t let magic become our crutch—something we depend on—cuz the moment we stop listening to it, it’ll just stop working for us. Magic isn’t easy. It’s hard. I mean…it’s hard enough for one person practicing alone. Practicing magic in a group will be much more difficult because we’re gonna have to be so connected to each other…and then try to keep that connection going for as long as possible. It’s gonna require more focus than anything we’ve ever done before. We’re pretty much gonna have to learn each other in ways we’ve never learned anyone else in our lives.
    “So…why even bother? Why not just study and use magic alone? Easy…because when a group comes together and shares their magic…all that power is multiplied. We’ll be able to do things together we wouldn’t be able to do alone.”
   “Sorta like lifting a car,” Fool’s Crow volunteered.
   “Yeah…exactly,” Shadow agreed. “We’re more powerful as many than as one: another benefit we’ll have as a coven. So…I’d like for us to try out our first exercise together. It might seem a little premature for this…and probably way lame…but I think we should all reveal something about ourselves, especially here…in the circle. It’ll help bond us a little…make us more comfortable with each other. What do you guys think?”
   “That’s a great idea,” Mercer said.
   The rest of us agreed. But I could feel a warm nervousness creeping into my body. My palms became instantly clammy. I wasn’t ready for that kind of attention just yet. It’s bad enough doing it in a classroom with people I don’t give two shits about. But making an ass out of myself in front of the coven? Not exactly what I was looking forward to accomplishing.
   “Who wants to start?” Shadow asked.
   “I’ll start.”
   Sparrowhawk. I was hoping he’d speak up sooner or later. Sometimes getting to know someone isn’t about collecting tidbits of their past…their likes and dislikes…their hopes and fears. People like Sparrowhawk just don’t offer much in that department. I get it…but it doesn’t stop my curiosity. The only other option I have is to watch, watch their eyes, their facial expressions, their body language…watch how they say certain words…not just hear their intonation, but actually see it occur. It’s not exactly the kind of thing I can get away with easily. Usually people are aware that they’re being watched and it’s never fun to be thought of as creepy…with staring problems. So when the opportunity comes along, I take advantage of it. I let them speak…and I watch. And if I’m not done watching, I’ll ask a question to prolong the watching. Cuz it’s okay to look someone in the face when they’re talking…it’s expected. It’s bad manners not to. So I do…I watch them…and I absorb the revelations.
   But all I could focus on were the long strands of hair falling over his shoulders. How the fuck does he stand it?
   “I joined the coven for all the reasons Mercer said we should join,” he said. “But I do have one other goal on a personal level…and that’s telekinesis. It probably won’t happen, but I gotta try. Also, I consider myself Wiccan…and I have fully sworn to follow the rules of magic…but I’m also hoping the gods and goddesses will show me favor and grant this one selfish request.”
   I could feel his conclusion coming and I couldn’t help myself.
   “You think telekinesis is a spiritual or psychological phenomenon?” I asked him.
   “That’s what I’m here to find out. I just think we’re all capable of more. I don’t want our powers to be limited to casting spells. It would mean everything to me if I could figure it out. I’m open to any help…pretty much any time. It’s not like I’ve got a lot going on anyways.”
   “Why telekinesis?” I asked
   “Just seems cool.”
   I chuckled. A few others as well.
   Good enough.
   Sparrowhawk stayed silent for a moment.
   “Yeah…I guess that’s all I’ve got for now. Next?”
   Moonshadow spoke next.
   “For those who don’t know me…I’m not a lesbian.”
   We laughed briefly.
   “I’d have to say I consider myself Wiccan as well…though it’s been a recent thing for me. Sparrowhawk has taught me a lot…and I’m looking forward to learning even more from everyone else. I’m really honored to be the High Priestess, and I hope I come through for you guys. And please tell me when I’m doing something wrong…which I’m sure will be all the time.”
   “Oh, don’t worry,” Sparrowhawk said with a grin on his face. “We will.”
   A few chuckles again.
   I always find communal laughter so strange for some reason.
   Pegasus grabbed one of my hands and gave it a little squeeze.
   “If you’re all wondering why I have such beautiful skin tone, it’s because I’m half Iranian,” she said.
   I burst out laughing. All that nervousness that had been bubbling throughout the evening came pouring out of me at that moment in spasmodic cackles. I’m sure I’m exaggerating…but that’s pretty much how it felt when I noticed I was the only one still carrying on.
   “My mom’s white…and Catholic,” Peggy continued. “And my dad converted cuz…I don’t know…I guess he wanted a piece of that ass.”
   Precisely the reason why the girl’s my best friend.
   “But even though I was raised Catholic, I’ve always believed there’s more out there than what we were taught in church. And I never understood why if someone’s born with psychic abilities they’re supposed to ignore them. I don’t see how that’s evil. It really pisses me off for some reason…that kind of thinking. I mean if someone’s born psychic, they shouldn’t ignore it…or think that they’ve been cursed by the devil…or something stupid like that. If you were made that way, it was for a reason. Hopefully being in the coven will shed some light on things I’ve always been curious about…maybe even curious enough to explore for myself. I’m definitely ready to learn.”
   I could feel my turn to speak swiftly approaching and secretly hoped something would prevent it. I was running through different variations in my head of possible share-moments and couldn’t find one that satisfied me enough. Panic was beginning to set in.
   But thankfully, Shadow spoke next.
   “I’m sorry if I get all intense, but I’ve been really wanting to vent this for a few days.”
   He hesitated…then continued.
   “It’s a little heavy, but here goes. I recently found out I was adopted…just this past Sunday. When my parents told me, well…they’d been acting strange for a while. I thought I was in deep shit at first or…that they were getting a divorce—which would’ve been mindblowing on its own—but what they told me…I mean, it was the last thing I expected to hear. And ever since…I’ve been wishing they wouldn’t have told me…I wish I didn’t know…because now all I feel is this emptiness…like I don’t know who I am anymore. And I mean…no wonder I don’t look like either of them. But the thought never even crossed my mind. I feel like I’m this pitiful person my parents picked up off the streets and took care of…cuz no one else would. They both kept telling me how much they love me and all that…and I believe them but…it feels more like I need to believe them…cuz if I don’t…well…”
   He stopped. His face was changing and I could tell he was fighting back emotions.
   Fool’s Crow made an attempt at distraction.
   “Do they know anything about your real parents?” he asked.
   “They got rid of me,” Shadow said. “What’s there to know?”
   “But you don’t know the circumstances, Shadow,” Mercer said. “Sometimes parents have to do what’s right…even if it means giving up their own kid.”
   “I’m sure you’re right…but it’s still so fucking confusing. I don’t know how to feel about any of it. I think that’s what gets to me the most…this empty feeling…I can’t shake it. I mean, sometimes I’m like…so what…I’m adopted…it doesn’t change anything. But the more I think about it the more I question who I really am. I’ve never really connected with my parents…but that’s not unusual, is it?”
   “I definitely don’t connect with mine,” Sparrowhawk offered.
   “Me neither,” Moonshadow said.
   “I do alright with mine,” Fool’s Crow said. It didn’t surprise me. I met his parents and they seemed pretty cool. They even knew what we were doing upstairs. I couldn’t imagine revealing that much information to my parents.
   “But knowing I’m adopted,” Shadow continued, “it makes me doubt everything. It makes me wonder if my parents sometimes wish they would have chosen someone else…it makes me wonder if they regret choosing me…cuz maybe I didn’t turn out to be what they wanted. And it makes me feel so fucking guilty about every little bad thing I’ve ever done. But I didn’t know…I didn’t know they had chosen me…I didn’t know to try harder…”
   Tears came from his eyes, and I felt ashamed for watching them. I wanted to turn away and give him some privacy…or at least be given permission to look on. But no one else turned away. We watched and waited. And I think it was the right thing to do. Shadow wanted to tell us…he wanted us to know…and I’m sure more than anything else, he wanted to let it out…let it all out. And it was important that he wasn’t alone.
   At that moment I knew that what we were…what we were was so much more than a coven. We were a fellowship…a brotherhood. And it made me love them even more…made me love Shadow even more, despite our bumpy beginning.
   “Sorry, guys,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d go this far.”
   He smiled and laughed at himself, choking on a sob in mid-laugh. The sound of it crawled inside of me…that beautiful sound only a human being can make…that half-laugh half-sob…it sank into my chest and forced my own eyes to water.  I wanted to reach for him, but it was impossible to show that kind of emotion, especially surrounded by others. I desperately wanted to make his sadness go away. I yearned for his sadness to go away.
    “Please, someone else…speak,” he said.
   There was silence for a moment. Shadow was wiping his face. I was discreetly wiping mine, though I noticed I wasn’t alone in that.
   “I really wanna get laid this year,” Fool’s Crow said.
   We all burst into laughter and I realized more than ever that I was home.
   Conversations drifted into pairs or trios. Some were coven-related, others not. But everyone took the opportunity to bond a little more informally. I spent time with Moonshadow and discovered that although she dressed like a boy, she smelled wonderfully like a girl. I could easily get hooked.
   “Just in case you guys are interested,” Pegasus said a little later on, “a friend of mine is having a party next Friday at her house. She’s inviting anyone who wants to come…and I think it’d be fun if we all went.”
   Everyone agreed to make it except for Mercer. Apparently he already had plans for that night, though I’m sure hanging out with a bunch of sophomores at a party was probably not his idea of a good time. Is that a little white lie I smell? Heh…definitely.
   By the time midnight rolled around, the circle had been opened and Pegasus and Moonshadow had taken off. Mercer made a last-minute suggestion for the guys to spend the night if possible. Crow’s parents okayed it. Shadow and I called home to let our parents know. Sparrowhawk didn’t.
   “My parents don’t keep tabs on me,” he said.
   We snuck outside around 1am, going into the woods behind Crow’s house. It was an incredibly dark night…no moon or stars visible in the sky. We cleared a little patch on the ground and collected kindling for a small fire. The five of us sat around it. I couldn’t help but notice how serious we had all become. Mercer had insisted that we commune with nature, that we go outside and introduce ourselves to the earth…the mother. We were her children…we wanted to grow and learn from her…we wanted to pay our respects and thank her for the gifts she gives us.
   “Let’s take this time to meditate individually,” he said. “Let the elements know who you are…and always be courteous. We want our coven to blesséd be. We want our efforts to blesséd be. We want our minds and our hearts to blesséd be.”
   “Does anyone mind if I pay tribute on my own…away from the fire?” Sparrowhawk asked.
   “Why?” Mercer asked him.
   “The flickering really distracts me. I’d rather be in the dark.”
   “Go ahead.”
   Sparrowhawk stood up and went deeper into the woods.
   The rest of us closed our eyes and began.
   I thought about earlier in the evening when Fool’s Crow taught me the basic fundamentals of meditation. The occurrence never left my mind. I had kept wondering back to it…continuously plagued by that feeling of unease…whatever it was. This was my chance to try again…to tap into that place again, avoiding the things Crow had insisted I focus on. I didn’t have his voice whispering beside me, but I could conjure it up in my mind and feed it the words I wanted to hear. I listened. I let it instruct me. I let it carry me to a point of deep relaxation and no further. No going into the skies…no journeys toward the sun. I didn’t want to face what lay in that darkness…not again…not yet. I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to seek, but part of me knew I’d find it along the way. I just had to get to that state…let my mind go perfectly still. It would come to me.
   I could hear the crackling of the fire before me…feel the flickering of its light upon my eyelids. Fool’s Crow might have laid the foundation, but it was time for me to build on top of it…and fire was all that persisted inside of me. I decided not to fight it. I would have failed…like Sparrowhawk. But instead of turning away from it…instead of building walls around it to keep it from misdirecting my focus, I welcomed it in. I concentrated on its warmth. I let it envelope me, let it cling to my skin, let it come to life…a plant-like organism with roots stretching deep into the ground. They crawled through the soil, tearing through the earth, sinking further down only to come back up, breaking through the surface, a web of tendrils attaching itself to me, penetrating me from below, from my legs and thighs.
   And I thought of my nightmares. I can never escape them.
   You can’t outrun the ground, Billy. You can’t outrun what holds you up.
   I saw it all happening in my mind, the roots climbing upward in search of points of entry…and when they found none, they made them…burning, puncturing, like hundreds of needles intravenously pumping me full of flames. I felt so hot…I was sweating…but I couldn’t lose my focus. I let myself absorb what they had to give…I had to store it…I don’t know why…some part of me knew…but it has yet to shed any light on it…a reason…some future purpose perhaps. With every inhalation, I drew more of its energy from the ground. But it was getting to be too much. I didn’t have that kind of control yet. This was only my first day. I could feel my skin burning, melting…and I knew I had to find a way to stop…I had to snap out of it…I had to break free of the roots. I summoned Crow’s voice back into my mind. Help me! And it did. It instructed me out, led me back to my eyes, and I was able to open them again.
   I was alone.
   Was I seriously that out of it I never heard them stand up and leave? It didn’t seem possible.
   I stood up and called for Fool’s Crow…Shadow. No one responded. They had just been sitting with me…for how long? I looked at my watch. 2:37am. No fucking way.
   I looked at the fire. Someone had put fresh wood on it, still very much alive. I walked around in a circle, looking into the trees and seeing absolutely nothing, afraid of leaving the light of the fire to search for my friends.
   “Are you guys fucking with me? Where are you?”
   Finally…a response from the woods.
   “We can see you, Billy.”
   Fool’s Crow. I looked in the direction of his voice. Nothing.
   “What’s going on?” I asked.
   “We came out here to do a quick prayer. You were totally out of it so we didn’t wanna mess you up. Come join us.”
   I considered it…but I felt like I was done for the evening. “Nah…it’s cool. I’ll stay up here and keep an eye on the fire.”
   I sat back down in front of the fire, fidgeting with a fallen branch, sometimes shoving it into the flames to see the sparks fly up from the burning wood.
   A few minutes later, Shadow walked out of the darkness, sat next to me and stared into the fire.
   “What’s up?” I asked him.
   “I couldn’t concentrate,” he said. “Kept having weird flashbacks of a recurring nightmare. It happens sometimes. I fucking hate it.”
   “I can totally relate to that, man. Sorry…it sucks.”
   “It does.”
   Silence.
   “So did you ever throw that book away?” he asked.
   I laughed a little.
   “Yeah…I threw the book away.”
   “Good…it’s a piece of shit…none of it is true.”
   “Yeah, you said that. What do you mean anyway?”
   “The guy who wrote it…they’re just his beliefs. They’re not based on anything, there’s no history. It’s not real Satanism. No one really knows what Satanism is. The guy just talks about how life should be lived without any concrete reasons for it. He makes sense…he’s logical…but it’s not based on anything but fairy tales against Christianity. I’m not a fan of Christianity…but I’m not gonna buy into lies just to feed my dislike, especially those found in a book that’s only been around since the seventies. You’d think if there really was a Satanic Bible it would have surfaced hundreds of years ago. It’s called smart marketing. I’ll stick with paganism…there’s more truth there than anywhere else and it’s older than everything else.”
   “So why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
   “I did.”
   I laughed again. “Whatever.”
   “I guess I could’ve been less creepy about it, huh?”
   He started laughing too.
   All the emotions that had been building up inside of me decided to show themselves. I tried holding them back…but I was overwhelmed. I kept seeing his sadness in my mind…and to hear him laugh…and mean it…with that slight trace of unassuredness…I was beyond self-control. I threw my arms around him. I almost told him that I loved him, but that I couldn’t allow. Weird lines would be crossed…and I’m sure neither one of us would have appreciated it. So I held him instead, my heart racing…and I felt so utterly…I have no fucking clue. I just felt so much at that moment and giving him a hug seemed less suffocating than everything else fumbling around in my soul. My soul. I never really knew I had one until this day.
   And Shadow hugged me back. Hugs are allowed. I’ll take them…I’ll take them as quickly as I can give them.
   Footsteps approached us.
   “What are you girls doing?” Fool’s Crow asked.
   I looked up at him nervously, but laughed it off…pulling away from Shadow.
   “Get off it. One gay joke and I’m taking a swing.”
   Sparrowhawk walked up behind Crow. “Don’t mind him, Billy…he’s just jealous. He thought he was the only man for you.”
   “It’s okay, Crow…there’s plenty to go around,” I said.
   It only instigated him. He dashed over to me and dry humped my arm.
   “Say you’re the only man for me, bitch. Say it!”
   I played along in ways I feel too silly to write down. Yehp…comfort levels were way up.
   A little over an hour beforehand we had all been so serious…and now we were all hyper, newly energized, laughing and rolling around like dumbasses.  It was nice.
   But when Mercer’s scream cut through the night, we turned and started running toward it, going into the darkness of the woods, not realizing it carried neither terror nor pain. It was a scream of maniacal laughter. I saw his figure vaguely appear in front of us. The distant light of the fire caught his face. It was frozen in a crazed expression…his mouth paralyzed though laughter was erupting from it. He held his arms out in front of him, studying them for some reason or another. He looked mad…insane mad.
    “I can see it!” he said. “I can see it! It’s all over me! Oh fuck it’s beautiful…fuck me! Guys…can you guys see it?”
   He looked at us briefly, eager for us to answer him…but we were still trying to shake off the scare of his initial scream.
   “I can’t see shit,” Sparrowhawk said. “What are you talking about?”
   “Well come closer…come closer…you guys gotta see it!”
   We gathered around him, but it didn’t help. None of us could see what he was seeing. I wanted desperately to see whatever it was, but all I saw were his hands framed by the darkness behind him. We kept asking him to explain, but his excitement made him deaf to our pleads.
   “You guys just gotta concentrate! Just keep looking! You gotta see it! It’s so beautiful! It’s fucking amazing!”
   We continued to look. No use. Mercer was mentally gone and we were staring blindly at him. It must have been a hilarious sight. He started jumping around, still cackling, looking at his hands from every angle he could manage. We watched in amusement, starting to laugh right along with him, his excitement bleeding into us.
   “I’m sorry, you guys,” he said. “I was hoping you all could see it too. It’s so much energy…and it’s all around me. I can see it everywhere!”
   He stopped to look at us…really look at us. “Holy shit! I can see it all over you guys too! Holy fuck! They’re all so different from one another.”
   He moved from one of us to the next, reaching out his hands to touch whatever he was seeing.
   “Auras,” he said. “Auras everywhere! And I can see them!”
   There was no envy.
   There was no skepticism.
   There was only belief.
   “Do you guys know what this means?” he asked. “We’ve been blessed! Our coven is blessed! The mother has blessed us! We’re on the right path! And we can’t ever stop!”
   I have no intentions of doing so.

~

Next Entry: Tuesday September 7, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Saturday September 4, 1993

I’ve only got two hours before Donny’s knocking at the door. For the time being, I’ll try to write as much as I can concerning yesterday. I’m sleeping over at Donny’s tonight too so I probably won’t be able to write again until tomorrow night. And there’s so much to say!
   Lunch with Crow has become a usual thing since the start of this week. Our conversations have been progressing in every direction…becoming more and more philosophical and at the same time more and more ridiculously stupid—in a fun way. He’s a fucking blast and I can’t get enough of him.
   When I got to the table yesterday, Sparrowhawk was sitting beside him…Moonshadow across. I sat by Moonshadow.
   “This is the guy to ask, actually,” Fool’s Crow said. “He’s read the damn thing.”
   “What?” I asked.
   “The bible.”
   “I’m no expert…but what about it?”
   “I was just saying that there’s gotta be some truth to it, right?” Moonshadow asked.
   “Hell no,” Sparrowhawk said.
   “There’s some truth to it,” I said. “We’d be pretty pathetic if there wasn’t…and by we I mean mankind.”
   “No way,” Sparrowhawk said, shaking his head. “I don’t buy all that Jesus Christ bullshit.”
   “Well I’m not saying any of the religious stuff is for real…but you can’t deny that there once was a man named Jesus Christ.” I smiled at the sound of that.
   “What proof do we have?”
   “Tons! There are so many written accounts that he existed. You can’t just chalk it up to mass hysteria and call it a day.”
   “Yeah I can.”
   “Alright, dude.”
   “So what’s true and what’s made up?” Moonshadow asked.
   “Well, I guess it’s up to you,” I responded. “I mean…the way I see it is…if you want to hide a lie for a very long time…you wrap it up with the truth.”
   “Huh?”
   “Like…how about Noah’s Ark?…we all know that story, right?”
   I waited for confirmation.
   “Well, I can’t remember off the top of my head…but there’s another source out there that talks about the great flood and a man in an ark.”
   “By another source, you mean not the bible?” Moonshadow asked.
   “Right…like, another culture altogether…a different religion…I wish I could remember, but anyways…we can say it’s coincidence…or we can say that it must have happened since it’s been documented in more than one place. And I know for a fact it was documented in at least two biblical sources…because even when you read about it in the bible, one line will say that Noah was ordered to take one male and one female of every animal into the ark…but then, like a few lines later, it says he was ordered to take seven pairs of each.”
   “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Moonshadow said.
   “No, it doesn’t…but at the same time it does. That story’s in the Book of Genesis…which is made up of several sources. When you have that many sources, there’s bound to be a contradiction somewhere…and they’re everywhere in the bible…which is why some Christians view the Old Testament as a bunch of historical documents.”
   “You mean the same Christians who don’t believe in evolution?” Fool’s Crow asked sarcastically.
   “Yeah,” I said, chuckling. “Exactly. They pick and choose I guess. But anyways…my point in all of this is that on one hand you have reality: a flood and a man who built an ark…and on the other you have myth: was this man chosen by God to be the new Adam? Were there creatures on that ark? One pair or seven of each? And did God really put a rainbow up in the sky to remind himself that he promised never to kill us off again? Seriously? Did physics not exist until after the flood? I guess if it didn’t, at least we can rest assured we won’t be annihilated by water. Thanks for the loophole, buddy.”
   “Uhm…I’m gonna go play hackey-sack…I’ll catch up with you guys later on tonight,” Sparrowhawk said.
   “Sorry, dude,” I said…not knowing whether to chuckle or…I don’t know.
   “Nah…it’s cool…that’s just way too much effort on my brain right now. Plus, only twelve minutes left.”
   “Alright…see ya tonight.”
   “Later,” Fool’s Crow said to him.
   “You coming?” Sparrowhawk asked Moonshadow, turning around without waiting for a response. Moonshadow began to stand.
   “Sorry about that,” she said to me. “He hates Christianity.”
   “We’re in the same club then.”
   “No…he really hates it. Would you want them all dead?”
   “No…I guess not.”
   “He wouldn’t mind it. Anyways…I’ll see ya guys tonight. And Billy…I really like how you talk…”
   She gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked away.
   I looked at Crow, feeling myself turning red.
   He exploded with laughter.
   “Oh shit,” he said.
   His laughter spread my way.
   “What?” I managed.
   “Nothing…but damn, remind me not to get you going on the bible again.”
   “Seriously, dude? It wasn’t that bad…c’mon…that’s ridiculous.”
   “I think it was just your eyes…when you were talking. You get so into it, man!”
   “Fuck off.”
   “So you still getting to my house earlier than everyone else?” he asked.
   “Yeah…around six alright?”
   “Totally.”
   “Cool…sorry about that…my sister has plans and she won’t wait around until 8pm for me.”
   “No problem. It’s actually even better, we’ll get a chance to talk about those books I let you borrow.”
   “Which reminds me,” I said, digging them back out of my bookbag. “I finished them.”
   “Christ! Eager…I like it.”
   “Well…they were short,” I said, feeling slightly embarrassed. I was beginning to have my fill.
   We kept it light the remainder of lunch period.
   When I got to his house last night he introduced me to his parents and younger brother and then led me upstairs to his bedroom. There’s always something so fascinating about entering a friend’s world for the first time: visiting their house, seeing their bedroom, the way they keep it, the things they hang from the walls and knick-knacks they keep on their dresser or desk. So much can be learned…and quickly…so many little stories in every item hinting at their personality, their likes, their hobbies, their interests.
   He threw himself on the bed. I stood by the door, looking around. This was Fool’s Crow’s bedroom. Nothing extravagant. Simple. A few socks on the floor and the scent of incense in the air. Not at all what I had imagined. His walls were bare, a light green color similar in tone to his comforter. There was a computer sitting on a small wooden corner desk. His nightstand was hidden beneath black fabric. A colorful assortment of candles and ashy incense holders was displayed above it.
   “So you ever write a novel?” he asked randomly. I had mentioned my love of writing before…and the literary magazine of course.
   “Yeah…two actually.”
   “No shit?”
   “Nope.”
   “That’s pretty cool, man. You gonna try to get ’em published?”
   “I’ve been trying…but they keep getting rejected. I guess cuz they kinda suck.”
   “What are they about?”
   “The same thing actually…sorta.”
   “Which is?”
   “The end of the world.”
   He laughed.
   “Pull up the desk chair, man,” he said. “You can sit down.”
   I did.
   “So what about you?” I asked him.
   “I like writing poems.”
   “Really?” I was intrigued. I didn’t know that about him.
   “Yeah…but my first love’s computers. Not very interesting, I know.”
   I glanced over at the monitor.
   “A shaman with a taste for modern technology,” I pointed out.
   “Hell yeah,” he said. “I like that.”
   “So what about computers? What do you do on ’em?” I asked.
   “All kinds of stuff. I take them apart…put ’em back together again…figure out programs…play games. My dad’s been showing me how to use the World Wide Web…and that’s fucking amazing. Ever heard of it?”
   “No.”
   “Oh, dude! I’ve been able to talk to people from all over the country.”
   “Like…how do you mean?” I asked.
   “Check it out,” he said, getting up from the bed and hovering over the keyboard.
   “You need me to get up?”
   “Nah…you’re cool. Look…you see…that’s a dude in New York I’ve been talking to. He recommends programs for me to get…or answers random questions I might have. Watch…I’ll type in something…like what’s up and then wait for him to respond.”
   I watched the monitor.
   Just losing my patience with CompuServe. You?
   Crow wrote: Showing a friend how this works.
   “Crazy, right?” he asked me afterward.
   “Yeah…but how does it do it?”
   Technology babble.
   Sorry, Crow…when stuff goes over my head I just wander off…can’t help it.
   Hmmm…I wonder what Stephen King is doing right this second?
   Maybe not quite that bad…I tried staying tuned in. I even remember his last few lines on the subject.
   “It’s gonna take over the world someday…revolutionize everything. You’ll see. Once they perfect it, everybody’ll be using it.”
   He threw himself back on the bed and we talked about other stuff for a few minutes. It felt so fucking refreshing…chillin’ with a normal guy for once—not like what I’ve got coming to me this afternoon: hanging out with Donny (who bitched me out Thursday night cuz I changed our plans from Friday night to Saturday night…I had to lie and tell him I was doing stuff with the family…he would’ve blown a gasket if he knew I was rescheduling to hang out with other friends…yikes!). Crow is a much different experience…an awesome ordinary guy with an optimistic perspective on nearly everything…a friend I won’t have to worry about judging me or scrutinizing my every move until he finds something to complain about…someone who wants nothing from me but pure and honest bonding. It almost doesn’t even feel like friendship at all. Fool’s Crow is my long-lost brother. Somehow fate had gotten it all wrong…and now it was making amends.
   “Have you ever meditated?” he asked me a little later on.
   “No…you mean, like this?” I put my forearms in front of me so they were parallel to the ground, palms facing up, and started humming obnoxiously. That’s what happens when Billy gets comfy with a friend…all shyness goes flying out the window…no telling what kind of an idiot he’ll make himself.
   But Crow laughed.
   “No, dumbass…not like that…though Hinduism is a very spiritual faith. But here, let’s give it a shot. I’ll be your guide. Trade seats with me.”
   He got up from the bed and motioned for me to get up from his chair. I did.
   “Alright…so…what am I doing?” I asked.
   “Lay down,” he instructed, walking to his bedroom door and closing it shut
   “Lay down?”
   “Yeah…lay down.”
   He turned off the lights.
   “And what are you doing?” I asked as he shut off the computer monitor.
   He then walked over to his nightstand and lit a few of the candles and a fresh incense stick.
   “Just making it more serene in here,” he said. “Now get on the bed.”
   “Uhm…as much as I like ya, man—”
   “Shut the fuck up and get on the damn bed.”
   “Oooh…forceful,” I joked.
   He ignored me, fumbling with the blinds to shut out whatever sunlight was still left in the darkening sky.
   In less than twenty seconds, Crow’s bedroom had changed in mood and feeling. Ten more seconds after that and he had Native American flute music coming from the speakers of his stereo.
   “So are we doing this or what?” he asked.
   I got on the bed, lying down face up, feeling totally stupid, silly and exposed…very much like being at the doctor’s office. I was instantly nervous…uncomfortable…but I quieted down my unease. Crow dragged his desk chair over and sat next to me.
   “I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice, alright? No more talking.”
   “Alright,” I said.
   I closed my eyes and waited.
   “I’m gonna cast a circle first…for protection. And then we’ll begin. You’re gonna hear me stand and move around for a few seconds. Just keep your eyes closed and try to relax.”
   He did as he said, walking slowly from one side of the room to the other, and then back again. He was whispering to himself, calling out points of the compass and the elements. I couldn’t make out everything he was saying…but those were easy to decipher, even in his whispers. I had just read about them in the books he’d given me to study. It’s an accepted pagan belief that the elements are intermediaries between life and the spirit world…they provide passage from one to the other. I love the logic behind that. I also love the obvious connection it has to science…to the old belief system that the elements were once the building blocks of life…of everything…until the discovery of the atom came along. But to me it makes no difference: atoms for the physicists or elements for the spiritual. Life cannot exist without either…energy beneath energy beneath energy.
   Once done, Crow returned to the chair at my side and proceeded with further instructions. He kept his voice soft, yet commanding. I listened. His words did more than just enter through my ears. I felt them being absorbed by my skin. I was hanging on to every syllable, and I obeyed every demand for a twist of my thoughts, following him everywhere he led me. I drifted off into the air…through the ceiling…upward and upward into the skies…flowing through the clouds…the atmosphere…entering the vacuum beyond. I imagined every detail as he described it…the darkness and the brightness…the planetary spheres as I traveled beside them…the growing warmth on my skin from that massive solar body. But I was to stop there. There were new instructions. The journey would no longer be a stroll through the heavens. I had to turn inward…I had to reach into the darkness inside, bypassing all the brightness along the way. I had to sift and collect the dark…the negative…the sad. I had to think of them all at once and trap them, bottle them up, pull them out. But there was so much of it. Surely he couldn’t expect me to succeed. I’d never be able to…but nevertheless I gave it a try. I tried as hard as I could, grabbing and grabbing though more slipped away from me than I was able to retain. I wanted to cry out for him to stop…to make him let me stop. But he was persistent. And for some fucked up reason I really wanted to please him. I latched on to what I could, neverminding the rest. And the weight was too much for me, getting heavier by the second. And all of those thoughts, those deeds, those nightmares…they began playing themselves out for me and I didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it…all that anger. Why is it here? Why do I harbor it? What am I so angry at? And all those fears. Why do they haunt me? Why do they beckon me? Why don’t I ever look the other way? And all those voices. Why do they tease me? Why do they tempt my self-doubts? Why do they belittle me? Because there’s something wrong with me. There’s something evil inside of me. And Fool’s Crow was ordering me to pluck it out and throw it into the flames…to watch it burn…to sweep it out of me forever. But he didn’t know what he was asking. I tried anyway. I pushed myself. But I couldn’t look my torments directly in the face. I could only grab and throw…like pulling off a very large band-aid or like cleaning someone else’s throw-up with my bare hands, fast, avoiding breath. I did what I could. I fed the sun. And finally…I could stop. I could make my way back to the most beautiful of all the planets…back down through the skies…to my town, to Crow’s house, to his room, to his bed, to him.
   I don’t think I’ve ever known my spirituality in that way before. And the realization of its miraculous existence didn’t come with a sense of joy or serenity. Something had cracked inside of me. What should have been stillness became chaos. What should have been a release became something much more suffocating. I don’t know what it is…but something went awfully wrong. I was unsettled.
   I kept it to myself.
   “How do you feel?” Crow asked after bringing me out of it.
   I didn’t wanna lie, so I told the closest truth I could think of. “That was incredible.”
   And it truly was. I’ve never known sensations such as those. But they frightened the shit outta me. And knowing they’re still inside of me only adds to my curiosity. Right here…right in this brain…all locked up in here…waiting to be tapped into again and again and again. Because—after all—I chase after the scary stuff. And maybe I haven’t explored myself as fully as I like to think I have. Maybe the scariest adventure has been waiting here all this time…what makes me me…all those tiny little parts that I have to constantly ensure have been placed precisely where they need to be…like those wooden blocks they make for toddlers…but instead of numbers and letters, mine are inscribed with emotions and sentiments…and I have to stack them up so that every fear and every moment of sadness spells out something I’ll never know the meaning of. That’s fine. I don’t need to know. As long as the meaning is kept tidy…as long as it’s kept in perfect balance…I can live with the vagueness, aware of its presence though not its reasons. I’ve done it my whole life and survived, even when I have moments of clumsiness…when I stumble over another wooden block that had gone previously unnoticed…and I foolishly pick it up…and once it’s in my hands it becomes a permanent part of my collection…but I’m unable to just put it at the top of the stack and be done with it…cuz it’s never that simple…no way…it doesn’t work like that…I have to knock them all down…I have to start from scratch…I must rebuild my defenses…seek out their perfect placements…make sure I achieve balance again…all neighboring blocks must compliment each other…otherwise they won’t spell anything…and all hell will break loose inside of me…and I won’t function properly...and I must function properly…because otherwise there’s no point in living.
   I know it’s dramatic. I don’t mean for it to be.
   So I had to lie to Fool’s Crow. I had to tell him what he wanted to hear. I’ll try to never lie to him again.
   “Meditation always helps me out,” he said. “You can do it on your own…exactly like we just did it…or you can change it…come up with your own method. You don’t have to use the sun or go into outer space. I just like those images. They really work for me.”
   The doorbell started ringing a few minutes later as members of the coven arrived.
   We are:

Full Name     Magickal Name    Birth Date       Phone

[Omitted]      Pegasus               April —        [Omitted]
Billy —           Norish                April —         [Omitted]
[Omitted]      Fool’s Crow        March —       [Omitted]
[Omitted]      Sparrowhawk      October —    [Omitted]
[Omitted]      Shadow               April —         [Omitted]
[Omitted]      Moonshadow       April —         [Omitted] 
[Omitted]      Mercer                September — [Omitted]

   Fuck…Donny just called to tell me he and his parents are leaving to pick me up. I still haven’t gotten my shit together. I’ll have to continue writing the rest of this tomorrow.

~

Next Entry: Sunday September 5, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Thursday September 2, 1993

I decided to read a poem out loud during today’s literary magazine meeting. Not usually my thing…the thought of all those eyes staring up at me, judging me, comparing me…makes my knees weak. I enjoy the idea of having everyone’s attention…but once I’m actually in the spotlight…not so much. I’ve been working on this fucking poem for a few days—they don’t come naturally to me…and I kinda thought it was pretty good. But above all, I wanted Heather to like it. I wanted her to maybe even be impressed by it. And the thought of asking her to read it—for some reason or another…as usual—seemed way more agonizing than just walking up to the podium.
   “What’d you think of the poem?” I asked her, sitting outside on the benches while we waited for our rides.
   “I thought it was good,” she said. “A little melodramatic…but it was good.”
   As soon she drove off with her mom, I cried.
   Melodramatic?
   It hurt my feelings.

~

Next Entry: Saturday September 4, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Wednesday September 1, 1993

Shadow and I were in each other’s arms. Now that was weird.
   “Alright, come on you two,” Fool’s Crow had said. “Hug it out.”
   Talk about an awkward moment…but I was man enough about it, even with Pegasus giggling beside us and making cat-calls like we were gay for each other…but I guess it broke the ice.
   We had agreed to meet outside after school…all of us—to make the most of our fifteen minutes together before the busses revved their engines—all aboard! Introductions were brief, quick little greetings of whazzups and don’t-I-know-you’s…but it was all we needed to feel like we had known each other prior to today. And I suppose we had…sorta. I mean, I already knew Peggy and Crow…Peggy knew me and Shadow…Crow knew everyone but Peggy…and so on and so forth. Still, it’s amazing how quickly it all happened: just a few lame jokes…a couple of funny one-liners…a bit of witty sarcasm and we just…fell into place together. Perhaps this is how it always works when people share a common purpose…everything else becomes inconsequential. I don’t know…but it felt good.
   I tried to absorb as much of that moment as possible…but there was way too much to hold on to. So many words and emotions…so many facial expressions and mannerisms and eccentric features and colors of hair and tones of skin and tones of voice and…personalities…all so different…so very different…I could never confuse one for the other. And I love them all…and for some reason that alone makes me feel like I’m all sorts of fucked—The Lover of Everything.

[“The Lover of Everything” is also a short story discovered within the stacks of notebooks and papers in Billy’s bookbag. This is either a reference to that story or its origin.]

   Moonshadow wore a different baseball cap today. I’m thinking she has an arsenal. But she’s still pretty hot. She kept an arm around Sparrowhawk’s shoulders the entire time, and I kinda liked her even more for it…cuz it just made her look like she was open to whatever…friendly…and casual…down-to-earth. I’m willing to bet I could say gross stuff around her and she’d play right along with me…in a way most other girls wouldn’t. A few times I caught her letting her fingers get tangled up in Sparrowhawk’s hair…then gently untangling themselves. Sparrowhawk didn’t seem to mind. There’s either some history between the two of them or I was witnessing a first-hand account of what Fool’s Crow warned me about—Moonshadow’s incessant flirtations.
   Mercer was an utter surprise. At first sight, the word leader didn’t exactly come to mind. He looked nothing like a senior, maybe a freshman…I’d even dare as young as an eighth-grader. He was of average height, slimmer than most, and as baby-faced as they come. But when I heard him speak, I knew there was nothing boyish or effeminate about him. He was obviously a charmer…assertive and radiating with confidence. His words were clever, thought-out, and well spoken. He was an intellectual…I could tell right away. He carried the weight of it in his sentence structures, in the precision of his syllables…like sharp blades on paper. I was instantly intimidated.
   Intellectuals scare me sometimes…depends on the kind. But some are so difficult to relate to. They’re like sponges, dry things sucking up whatever information they come in contact with…and they’re always so ready and willing to demonstrate it…to show it off…their knowledge. They’re like little girls with their dollies at a play-pretend tea party…and we all know there’s so much more going on in those little girl thoughts as they pour and banter—I’m a little princess…look at me, I’m pretty!
   Fuck all intellectuals who make-believe their leisure…there’s nothing laid-back about minds like that.
   Here’s hoping Mercer isn’t one of them, otherwise I’ll have to second-guess every move I make and every word I say…and probably end up making an ass out of myself in the long run anyway. Ugh…that’ll be exhausting.
   As for Pegasus…she’s always been more social than me. She recognized Shadow right away and he welcomed her in just as quickly…I was almost jealous.
   “Alright, guys…just a quick word,” Mercer said. And just like that, our silence was unison. “I want everyone at Crow’s house Friday night—8pm—mandatory first meeting. If for whatever reason you don’t show…you’re out. Is that understood?”
   We mumbled in agreement.
   “Great…see you guys then.”
   He walked away from us and went back inside the school.
   I thought it a little strange, but no one else seemed to mind…so I went along with it, joining the laughter and simultaneous conversations that had picked back up from where they’d left off. All the serious stuff could wait until later. For those few remaining minutes I let myself enjoy that ray of sunshine-cliché hovering over us…a spotlight of palpable excitement…until the engines revved their warnings of departure.
   Pegasus and I said our goodbyes to the group and boarded our bus.
   “So hey…check these out,” she said, pulling out a little satchel from her bookbag. She untied the drawstring and poured some of its contents into her free hand.
   “Those are fucking beautiful,” I said, picking up one of the white stones and examining the symbol delicately painted onto it. “Are these runes?”
   “Yeah…”
   “Can I have them?” I asked…mostly as a joke…though I certainly wouldn’t have turned them down.
   Peggy pushed into me a little.
   “Whatever! Idiot…”
   I laughed.
   “But seriously, where’d they come from?” I asked.
   “Well, that’s sorta the weird part. I saw Ashleigh earlier today and she gave them to me.”
   “That is weird…we were just talking about her.”
   “That’s not even the weird part! Ashleigh told me her mom made them for me…cuz she knew I’d be needing them.”
   “What?”
   “I know…weird, right?”
   “Fuck no! Coincidence is weird…that’s fucking awesome…makes ’em even better!”
   “Really? It kinda freaked me out a little…”
   “I’ll take ’em,” I said, offering a helpful option.
   “I don’t think so, now give it back.” She held up the open satchel in front of me.
   “I’m so jealous,” I said, letting the rune in my hand topple back into its home.
   “So that was pretty interesting, wasn’t it?…the coven?” she asked as she dropped the satchel into her bookbag.
   “Yeah…what’d you think?”
   “I liked them…looking forward to Friday.”
   “Yeah me too.”
   “Moonshadow’s a bit of a ho-bag, though. Wasn’t really expecting to see her there.”
   “How is she a ho-bag?” I asked, laughing.
   “Oh please…did you see the way she was all over Sparrowhawk?”
   “I’d hardly call that being all over him. They’re just friends. You don’t even know her!”
   “I don’t have to…I see her flirting with different guys all the time…even with Mark. It pisses me off. Like I said, she’s a ho-bag.”
   “Okay…I’ll take your word for it,” I said—not really meaning it—and changed the subject. “What did you think of Sparrowhawk?”
   “Well…he’s got really nice hair…but aside from that, I don’t know. Didn’t really get a chance to talk to him much. Moonshadow wouldn’t let him join in…or did you not notice that?”
   “No…I guess I did…just didn’t think anything of it.”
   “You like her, don’t you?”
   I laughed.
   “There’s only one girl for me,” I said.
   “Awww…I know, honey…I’m so sorry I’ve got a boyfriend.”
   “I know you’re sorry…now apologize.”
   “Hey! That’s my line…you’re not allowed to use it!”
   “What are you gonna do? Claw me with your nails?”
   We both started laughing.
   Sometimes we get into these obnoxious fits, acting stupid and laughing at shit that isn’t even very funny…especially when we’re both in a good mood. This is but the gist of it. In actuality, it goes on for longer and much lamer.
   “So what’d you think of Mercer?” she asked. “What a total cutie!”
   “You can’t be serious…the guy looks twelve!
   “A very cute twelve!”
   “You’re so gonna be a pedophile when you get old!”
   “I…am…offended.” She could barely make out the words from laughing so hard.
   “I just can’t see him as the leader.”
   “I totally can.”
   “I think Fool’s Crow should be the leader.”
   “Oooh…Fool’s Crow…he’s a cutie too!”
   I laughed at her. “And then you talk about Moonshadow…geez.”
   “Hey…thinking it and doing it are two totally different things.”
   Ah, girls. All you can do is humor them.
   “How true you are, madam,” I said in a funny voice. “Well…maybe you can get rid of Mark now…try to score with Fool’s Crow…or Mercer. I’d approve of either one.”
   She gave me a disapproving squint of the eyes. “I happen to love Mark,” she said. “And I’ve been meaning to ask you…how are things going with Heather?”
   I went along with the obvious flip.
   “No different. We still talk a lot.”
   “Horror stuff?”
   “Some…yeah…but we’ve branched out. We talk about other stuff.”
   “But only during class?”
   “No…we talked on the phone last night.”
   “Well that’s cool. What’d you guys talk about?”
   “Stuff I guess.”
   “Yeah…but like what?”
   “Just…stuff…the literary magazine…friends…family…I don’t know…stuff. Want me to record a conversation?”
   I was getting defensive for no reason at all. I hope it wasn’t as obvious as I just realized it was.
   “No…dumbass,” she said. “I’m just curious. I guess you’re still hoping something will come of it?”
   “Yeah…absolutely…more so now than ever.”
   “Oh God.”
   “I’m not kidding…I just keep feeling myself fall more and more in love with her everyday…even though I know it isn’t mutual. But honestly, I just sorta keep hoping that maybe as she gets to know me better, she might see something she didn’t see before.”
   “I say if she didn’t see it right away…fuck the bitch.”
   “Yeah maybe…but I can’t just brush her off that easily. I have fun with her…even on a friends level. And what’s so wrong with a little persistence?”
   “Well…you could be putting yourself through hell for nothing.”
   “She’s worth the hurt.”
   She sighed, chuckled, and then put an arm around my shoulders.
   “My poor little tortured Billy. What am I gonna do with you?”
   When Peggy got off the bus, I joined Sarah at her seat. She was eager to tell me about two different guys she has a crush on.
   “You know…the way you talk about boys…it’s a good thing you’re religious,” I told her.
   She laughed. “I just can’t keep a boyfriend!”
   “It’s cuz they know you ain’t gonna put out!”
   She gasped…but with a huge smile. I laughed too.
   “But that’s terrible!” she said.
   “I know…they should just realize it how I realize it.”
   “And how’s that?”
   “Well…if they stick it out with you…after all your pent-up sexual frustrations…whenever you do finally lose your virginity…you’re gonna make one hell of an amazing whore. I mean, if I were to marry a girl…that’s what I’d want: a sex fiend.”
   She was in hysterics.
   “I should be slapping you for that,” she managed.
   “Yeah…but you know it’s true.”
   Sometimes I can…
   Sometimes I can’t…
   Poor little tortured me.

~

Next Entry: Thursday September 2, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy  

Tuesday August 31, 1993

“You must’ve made an impression,” he said. “Good for you.”
   “Thanks?”
   “Don’t thank me, Satanist. You can thank Crow at lunch. He says to find him…he’ll fill you in on everything. Oh and yeah…you’re in.”
   Shadow walked away without waiting for a response.
   I’m assuming I’ll be dealing with his attitude a lot more in the coming days. It would usually get to me—having someone show their disdain for me so bluntly—but for some reason whatever stick he’s got lodged up his ass doesn’t really bother me that much. I’m sure he objected to my inclusion when Fool’s Crow brought my name up to a vote—if that’s even how it happened. I hope he gets over it in time…cuz I thought Crow and I hit it off pretty fucking great yesterday.
   you’re in
   Those words fill me with this childish excitement, knowing something new is finally coming my way. I’m gonna be so bummed if it turns out to be nothing…a false alarm…some silly idea they came up with in passing and aren’t really planning on seeing it through. I’m so tired of disappointments. I’m so tired of worthless fixations that end up amounting to soft-served piles of shit.
   you’re in
   I know there are others, but I don’t care who they are—I vow my loyalty to them…even to fuckfuck. I can’t wait to meet them.
   Lunch can’t come too soon.

later

“So, Billy…”
   “So, Heather…”
   “I’m like…halfway through this book…what the hell does any of it have to do with The Keep? I feel like they’re not even in the same universe!”
   I laughed at her.
   “Don’t you ever listen to me?” I teased. “I told you yesterday…there are no connections until the fourth book.”
   “So this guy writes three novels…gets a bit of writer’s block…and figures oh…I’ll just tie these three together?”
   “Heh…maybe, but it doesn’t even matter cuz the end result is incredible. When it all comes together…it’s cool as shit. You just gotta be patient. And besides, it’s still good on its own…maybe not as much as The Keep—but definitely worth the read.”
   “Alright…I’ll hang in there.”
   The bell rang, announcing the start of class. Our conversation came to an abrupt end as Mrs. —— started running through her endless chain of examples on the overhead projector. But once again, I couldn’t concentrate.
   I wondered what it’d be like to kiss Heather…or any girl for that matter. When the time comes, will I even know how to do it? Will it be like instinct…lips taking over, tongue being called into action…and every movement as involuntary as an erection? I somehow doubt that. I wish I knew…but above all else, I wish I knew with Heather.
   I love her. I really do. I know I haven’t known her long…but certainly long enough. She’s amazing…and it would be rapture to have her love me back.
   But how is it that I do this? How is it that I’m able to sit next to her?…talk to her, smile and laugh with her? How is that I continue pulling it off? How do I keep pretending like nothing’s going on inside of me when all I wanna do is scream until I’ve no voice left…claw at my skull until I’ve no nails left…punch through these walls until I’ve no knuckles left?
   But instead, I just put on a friendly face like I’ve no care in the world…like my heart isn’t breaking every second that I’m near her.
   You should be happy for her. She dodged a bullet.
   I hate that inner voice.
   I found Fool’s Crow during lunch at the same table as yesterday. I took my place across from him.
   “Your creepy friend found me in the halls,” I told him.
   “Who…Shadow?” he asked laughing. “He’s really not that bad, man. You just didn’t make a good first impression.”
   “I didn’t make a good first impression? Gimme a break. The guy’s a nutcase.”
   “I promise you he isn’t…you’ll see. Like I told you, he just doesn’t like the dark arts.”
   “I know…but still…snatching shit away from people he doesn’t even know? That’s kinda nutty.”
   “Wait, what? Snatching shit?”
   “Yeah…but not before staring obnoxiously from across the room.”
   “Did he really do that?” Fool’s Crow asked, laughing even harder.
   “Yes…”
   “I love Shadow,” he said, shaking his head. He was clearly fond of my nemesis.
   “Oh yeah, he’s definitely lovable,” I said with unabashed sarcasm.
   “He left that part out of the story—not that it surprises me…told me you two had only spoken. But think of it like this: had he not noticed you, you wouldn’t be sitting here across from me.”
   “Good point.”
   “That’s my job.”
   For the next few minutes we spoke mundanely. And then:
   “You’re still interested, right?” he asked.
   “Yeah…definitely.”
   “Good…cuz I talked it over with the guys…and I totally got you in.”
   “Well hell yeah…awesome.”
   “Okay, so…yeah…you’re in…anyway…see that guy over there?”
   I turned in the direction he was nodding, toward the hallway going past the cafeteria. A lanky shape was sitting on the floor with his back against the outside wall of the chorus room. It was hard to make out his face behind long waves of brown hair. He had a book in his hands but wasn’t reading it.
   “Is he sleeping?” I asked.
   “Yeah…probably,” Crow said, laughing. “That’s Sparrowhawk. He’s one of us…tends to be kinda quiet…sticks to himself way too much. Not sure if it’s a shy thing or if he just hates people…but he’s a nice guy…once he warms up to you at least…you’ll see what I mean.”
   I continued looking at him—Sparrowhawk—trying to imagine what he’ll be like when I meet him…if we’ll even get along. I’ve never befriended someone like him…his style…baggie jeans, long-sleeved flannel shirt even during the blazing summer, and hair down to the small of his back. I think I’ve seen him around though, always outside with the hackey-sack players. His hair is a little hard to miss.
   “And check it out,” Crow said, pulling my attention away from Sparrowhawk. “Over there…at the soda machine. See the girl?”
   I had to shift in my seat to look in the opposite direction, my eyes following Fool’s Crow’s nod.
   “What about her?” I asked.
   “Just watch…I bet there’s gonna be some action.”
   Like Sparrowhawk, I’ve seen her around school before. Total tomboy, but very pretty…always wearing a baseball cap, jeans that accentuate her hips, and boyish t-shirts that somehow do the same for her boobs. I can’t say it doesn’t suit her. In fact, I think it compliments the hell out of her. She knows her strengths and highlights them. Nothing wrong with that, right? Heheh. But as I glanced her profile over, it was clearly evident she was not having a good day. The machine kept spitting out her dollar and the heckler behind her wasn’t helping the situation.
   “You’re not slipping it in right, baby,” he said to her.
   “Would you shut the fuck up?” she said, giving her dollar one final attempt.
   “Come on…don’t be like that. I can help ya out…show ya how to hold it just right.”
   She yanked the dollar from the machine, turning swiftly on her heels and pushing the idiot into a few vacant chairs.
   “Asshole,” she said, walking out of the cafeteria. People laughed at him as he collected himself.
   “I like her,” I said to Fool’s Crow. We both laughed.
   “Yeah…she’s a feisty one,” Crow said. “That’s Moonshadow.”
   “So there’s a girl in the coven?” I asked, more to myself. “That’s nice…wasn’t expecting it.”
   “Yeah, but be careful…she’s like total night and day…and a huge flirt…so don’t let it fool ya. You’re gonna wanna think she’s into you, but trust me: think again. I’ve never seen her give a guy the time of day. I don’t mean anything by that, so don’t go putting words in my mouth. I’m just telling you what I’ve seen. But yeah…she’s a fucking blast and if you don’t take the whole flirting thing too seriously, I even recommend flirting back. Might be fake…but hell, it’s an ego booster…cuz you know…she’s kinda hot.”
   I laughed and agreed. “She definitely is.”
   “You’ll see,” he said.
   “Alright…looking forward to it. So how many others are there?”
   “Just one more. Mercer. He’s a senior. Doesn’t have this lunch period. I’ll introduce you guys eventually. Maybe at our first gathering.”
   “When will that be?”
   “As soon as I know…you’ll know. It’s all up to Mercer…he’s kinda the leader.”
   “What?…we have a leader?”
   I guess until that point I had never considered that there would have to be one. But if such were the case, why not Fool’s Crow? He seemed more than adequate enough…very aware of what he talks about…of what he believes in…knowledgeable.
   “Well yeah,” Crow said. “Mercer’s actually the one who started all of this.”
   “Oh…I thought it was you and Shadow.”
   “Nah…I mean…we brought you in but…this was all Mercer’s doing…his vision. The coven was his idea from the start. But don’t let that worry you…I mean, he’ll only really be handling the practical stuff…and sometimes final say in major decisions. But Shadow will be in charge of all the rituals. That’s why we voted him High Priest. You might be surprised…but Shadow actually knows way more than any of us when it comes to Wicca…he’s by far the most experienced. Moonshadow is the High Priestess…but honestly mostly by default cuz…she’s the only girl. Try not to say that in front of her though.”
   “High Priest and High Priestess? I don’t get it…what’s that all about?” I asked. I found the title of priest very out of place in this situation…perhaps cuz it reminded me of my Catholic roots…a man of the cloth. But yet—now that I think about it—I’m sorta okay with priestess. Silly word associations I suppose.
   “Well…the duties of the High Priest and the High Priestess are to cast the circle before rituals, call the elements, evoke the spirits, that kind of stuff. Actually…here…I didn’t forget…I brought you some books.”
   He reached into his bookbag and pulled out two books, handing them to me. I took them and looked them over, thumbing through the pages and wishing I could absorb all that information just as quickly. It’d be nice to be somewhat prepared for what lies ahead. At that second I wanted to get home…lock myself in my bedroom and not come out until I had both of those books memorized cover to cover.
   “These will pretty much go over the basics. We probably won’t do everything as written, but you’ll get the idea. All the important concepts are in there…though sometimes they’re open to interpretation. If you find anything that doesn’t make sense…just ask me or—even better—ask Shadow. He knows his stuff.”
   “Alright,” I said, putting the books away in my bag.
   “And one other thing,” he said.
   “What’s that?”
   “If you can help it, keep all of this on a need-to-know basis only. Don’t go around telling people you’re in a coven or—worse—that you’re a witch, especially if you’re gonna be pointing fingers at us. None of us wanna be the school freaks, you know?”
   “Trust me, that won’t be a problem.”
   The thought of it alone made me wanna hide in a hole somewhere.
   “It doesn’t mean we can’t talk at school. That’d be stupid. We just don’t wanna make a show of it. It’d be pretty fucking lame.”
   “I agree,” I said. But part of me had already been plotting out the conversation with Pegasus. “What about my best friend?”
   “You trust him?”
   “Her. And yes…with my life.”
   “Yeah…that’s fine. Like I said…need-to-know. Best friends, girlfriends…I guess sometimes they fall into that category. Just use good judgment and you’ll be alright. I mean, it’s not like we’re some secret cult or something…but you know how some of these people are around here.”
   We hung out until the end of lunch period, our conversation branching out from coven-related topics. It’s always amazing when I meet someone new and it takes absolutely no effort to talk to them…no stumbling over words or worrying about ridiculous things spilling out my mouth…no feeling like an idiot when I say something I think is funny but no one else is laughing. It’s liberating. It’s like we’ve known each other for years. I’ve heard people say things like that before…but now I know exactly what they mean. And the anticipation is building all around me…around Fool’s Crow…around the coven…around the others…the idea of it all. It gives me butterflies in my stomach. I can’t wait to get started.
   On the bus ride home, I was able to talk to Pegasus. We had spoken yesterday afternoon as well, but I hadn’t given her all the details then…perhaps cuz it seemed a little premature…though mostly because I didn’t exactly know how to bring it up. But I felt more confident today…more trusting that the coven is for real and actually gonna happen.
   “So you know that guy I told you about yesterday?” I started.
   “Yeah…the freakazoid who thought you were a devil worshiper?”
   “Yeah…well, I had lunch with him again today…and he’s really not all that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. But uhm…he’s pagan…like…Wiccan…or whatever.”
   “Really?”
   “Yeah…him and some other guys are forming a coven.”
   I regretted my choice of words immediately. I had somehow taken the importance of all I had shared with Crow these past two days and turned it into something as trivial as a couple of friends getting a band together. But what exactly are the right words, if not those? I always find it strange when an idea can feel so enlightening but yet sound so insignificant when spoken out loud. Perhaps that should be the real test…perhaps there’s truth in how words can paint the picture…perhaps the coven is silly and stupid…and perhaps I am being childish by getting swept up in it…like a little kid being granted membership to the coolest treehouse on the street. I don’t know…but I wanted to tell her…to share it with my best friend…cuz I was in love with it all…and sometimes it’s worth being a little sneaky…bulldozing the trees so someone else can pave the road.
   “It’s kind of an interesting idea, huh?” I asked. “Or do you think it’s weird?”
   “I don’t think it’s weird at all. I think it’s awesome…as long as they take it seriously.”
   “Yeah…I think so too.”
   “Like my friend Ashleigh, for instance.”
   “You know…I was totally thinking about her. Her whole family’s Wiccan though…so I guess they don’t really need a coven?”
   “Well…her family is the coven…and I guess their coven is kinda like their church.”
   “So they don’t actually have a church somewhere?…like, in a separate building?”
   “No…they hold their services at Ashleigh’s house. Man, that’d be kinda nice, wouldn’t it?”
   I laughed. “Yeah…maybe. Or very strange. It must be pretty cool growing up Wiccan though. Could you imagine?”
   “My parents as Wiccans? No.”
   “Seriously…mine either. So are Ashleigh’s parents weird…or they pretty cool?”
   “I love her parents…especially her mom. She’s the sweetest lady. But I guess her whole family is like that.”
   “So what all did you see them doing…that time you sat in during one of their rituals?”
   “Well…I didn’t sit in…I just kinda…sat by. I was spending the night…and they let me be in the room with them.”
   “Was it like a ton of people?”
   “No,” she said—sounding more like no, you idiot. “Just her family…maybe ten to twelve of them…aunts and uncles and a few cousins.”
   “So what were they doing?”
   “Nothing really…just sitting in a circle. They did a few prayers, so I guess it was like any other service. But it wasn’t weird or anything like that…maybe a little different. Half the time I didn’t really know what was going on. It was all very peaceful though and…nice.”
   “So they didn’t like…get naked and start doing some kind of sacred orgy dance?”
   “You’re so retarded.”
   We both laughed.
   “I bet you wondered though if it would go there,” I accused.
   “No, I didn’t.”
   “Oh, come on…not even a little bit?”
   “Maybe a little bit.”
   “I knew it.”
   “And part of me was sorta hoping for it too…cuz one of her cousins was totally hot.”
   We both cracked up.
   “What about Mark?” I asked.
   “Mark who?”
   We cracked up some more…eventually quieted down.
    “So you wouldn’t think I’m weird if I told you I was joining their coven?” I asked.
   She looked at me and I braced myself for her response. I feared the worst…an accusation for endeavoring what I wasn’t…for seeking what I shouldn’t…for letting my immaturity—my insecurities—motivate me to try something completely stupid…like smoking a joint or dropping some acid or shooting up whatever narcotics my desperate hands were able to attain.
   But she smiled at me.
   “Don’t you know by now I always think you’re weird?”
   “Ha ha,” I said sarcastically.
   “And who do you take me for anyways? Is that really what you think of me?”
   “No…of course not. I was just—”
   “Being a dummy?”
   “Yeah…sure…I’m a dummy.”
   “Besides…you won’t be joining alone.”
   “Huh?”
   “Can’t you pull some strings?…I wanna go in with you.”
   “Really?” I asked. The idea had never even crossed my mind. I quickly ran down the list of advantages in my head. Having a familiar face in the coven might help make things a little more comfortable…and I’d get to spend way more time with her…time she wouldn’t be able to spend with her loser boyfriend. And though a small part of me wants to explore my new adventure completely unaccompanied…it surprisingly remained the faintest whisper. I love Pegasus. She’s not the kind of friend who weighs me down and smothers my every move, judging my every step, analyzing my every syllable for some confirmation of whatever the fuck friends like that are in constant search for. And the fact that she was interested in the coven…it was almost a compliment to my own decision of joining. Not only was she supportive…she wanted to be part of it.
   “Hell yeah,” she said. “I’ve always been curious…but I’ve always been a little skeptical too. And besides, safety in numbers, right?”
   “Totally,” I said…showing my excitement. “This will be great. And I seriously doubt you’ll have to worry about safety. I think they’re harmless. Fool’s Crow’s like the most mild-mannered guy I’ve ever met. And Shadow…well—”
   “Wait, what’s his last name?”
   “Shadow’s?”
   “Yeah.”
   “No fucking clue.”
   “Hmmm…I think I might know him…cuz Mark sometimes talks to him at school. And the other day he totally made a comment about the guy thinking he’s a warlock.”
   “Oh, then they probably do know each other,” I said, disappointment showing in my voice.
   “Well, it’s gotta be him, cuz his name is Shadow as well. They know each other from Chorus—it’s usually all they talk about.”
   I chuckled a little bit.
   “What?” she asked.
   “Nothing…I always forget Mark’s in Chorus.”
   “Oh stop it…give him a break…he likes to sing…and he’s got a very nice voice.”
   I knew she’d defend him…but still, picturing that ogre in a chorus line…great fodder for a good chuckle.
   “Well, at least now you know something about Shadow…he’s in Chorus,” she pointed out.
   “Yeah…I guess…with Mark…hurray.”
   “If it helps any, he always seems pretty normal when he’s talking to Mark. I think the two of you just got off on the wrong foot.”
   “Yeah…maybe.”
   “So what do you think?” she asked. “About me joining with you?”
   “Okay…I’ll totally give Crow a call tonight and ask him about it.”
   “Awesome…call me right after.”
   “I will.”
   Peggy got off the bus.
   I went to sit with Sarah. She’s a senior but she doesn’t drive. She lives in my subdivision. We always walk down the street together from the bus stop. Her house is even further than mine. She’s very Catholic. She was also my sponsor for confirmation. I like her though…she’s pretty cool for a religious chick. Plus, I love to shock her with random deviant comments. It’s a weird friendship, ours. I didn’t bring up the coven though.
   I should probably go ahead and call Crow before it gets too late.
   He gave me his phone number.
   Strangely, he wrote it on the inside cover of one of his books.

later

Crow wants to meet Pegasus first. Sounds reasonable enough.

~

Next Entry: Wednesday September 1, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy