Satanic Summer by Prunty Andersen

Author:Prunty, Andersen [Prunty, Andersen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Grindhouse Press
Published: 2012-07-12T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-seven

Doug’s mother sat in the living room, the TV blaring. That horrible show, Johnny Got His Gun, was on. Doug didn’t get the appeal of it. He didn’t say hi. Neither did she. He went up to his room and sat on his bed. He took deep breaths. He didn’t know what had happened with Mindy. He was pretty sure he was supposed to feel bad but he felt good. Really good. Except for the sticky mess in his underwear. He thought about calling Crank to tell him what had happened. But Crank would probably just laugh at him.

His breathing still didn’t feel right. He felt out of control. There was a moment with Mindy when he would have done anything she asked him to. There was a moment when he had to fight the urge to do whatever he wanted to with her. He knew he would never do that, but the thought was there. Of course it was. That was why it was a sin to indulge in sex and sexual thoughts. Because you only wanted more. After a while, it probably didn’t even matter what you did or who you did it with.

He had to change pants and underwear before he went to Whitney’s.

Whitney.

Jesus. He thought he was attracted to her too. Even though she was the complete opposite of Mindy.

He disrobed from the waist down. His pubic hair was still a damp mess. He dried himself off with his underwear as best as possible then buried the soiled clothes in the bottom of his closet. He’d have to wash them himself when his mom left the house for something longer than a cigarette run.

He put fresh pants and underwear on, slipped his shoes back on. He looked at his computer. He had absolutely no desire to play Redemption. What was the point now, anyway? If he couldn’t fend off temptation in real life, then there was absolutely no hope of him doing it in the game, where the risks weren’t even real.

He went back downstairs.

“Where are you going?” his mother asked.

“Maybe over to Crank’s.”

“You’re walking?”

“Yeah. I can’t drive by myself.”

“Why’d you change pants?”

“The other ones were dirty.”

“You just put them on this morning. You have to change pants for Crank?”

“I just like these better, okay?”

“They’re exactly like the other ones. Same brand. Same style. Same color.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to know what you’ve been doing.”

“I just came back from driving lessons. You can call and ask.”

“I don’t want to bother them. They’re busy doing both the Lord’s work and teaching people to drive.”

“Then you believe me?”

“I still want to know why you changed pants.”

“Maybe it’s embarrassing, okay?”

“See. That’s all you had to say.”

“I might not be back until later.” His hand on the front doorknob, he was nearly free.

“And Doug?”

He gritted his teeth. Turned to face his mother.

“Be careful. People are dying left and right.”

He was glad the obligatory warning about the evils of the world was the only thing she had to say. He forced a smile and said, “I think I’ll be okay.

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