Double Time
Chapter 58
“If you feel like you don't fit into the world you inherited it is because you were born to help create a new one.”
—Ross Caligiuri, Dreaming in the Shadows
26 AUGUST 2019
Livy is going to come to the Labor Day race in Noblesville. I should feel great about that. But I’m conflicted. That sounds like the old man talking. The truth is that I’m utterly confused by the world I’m living in. I just don’t understand kids these days. And I am one.
What happened to the days when monogamy was the standard and everything else was deviant? In this new world, even our parents seem to be accepting of our multiple relationships. At the cookout at Livy’s house yesterday, all three sets of parents seemed to accept Livy, Rachel, and me as being a couple. What the hell is the word for that? A triple? But that’s not it, either. They all mentioned getting all the families of our girlfriends together sometime before the weather got bad. It’s like I’m living in the middle of an SOL story but nothing I remember is relevant.
And then there is my sister. Which is why I’m conflicted about Livy entering the race Monday. It was already going to be complicated with my sister coming to stay with me at the hotel Desi’s parents are paying for. And having to introduce her to Nanette. Desi’s okay with Em being at the hotel, though she thought she’d have another night of me to herself. But what will either of them—or Livy—think of Nanette? And Rachel is talking about possibly bringing the rest of the girlfriends down to watch the race.
I love running but cross country has to be the third most boring sport to watch since you can only see the beginning and the end. (The first and second most boring sports to watch are golf and fishing.)
The thing is, when I can get my inner old man to shut up, I love being with all my girlfriends. My old man inside wants me to focus on the older women I can’t stop thinking of—Nanette, Sophie, and Ms. L. And I just know I’m going to die a horrid death when everything collapses and I’m hauled off for being a pedophile.
We’re all too young for this and I’ve begun not to care.
“So, my sister will pick me up at the hotel in Indy and bring me up to Noblesville for the race and my girlfriends are going to come down from Fort Wayne to watch. Well, one to run,” I explained to Nanette as we were driving home from our morning run. She looked at me strangely a second and returned her attention to the road.
“That’s safer for me,” she finally said.
“Safer?”
“Jacob, I don’t think you realize how big a risk I take being with you. Even as innocent as it is, I am an older woman spending time alone with an unaccompanied minor. Any accusation of impropriety could land me in jail or labeled as a sex offender. At the very least, I’d lose my job. It won’t be so bad after you turn sixteen, but I’ve been nervous ever since offering to pick you up in Indianapolis, transport you to Noblesville, and then bring you home. I have no signed permission from your parents. They don’t know me from tomorrow’s newspaper. Having your sister in charge is a big relief.”
“Nanette, I’m sorry. I never want to put you in jeopardy. I’ve grown to really like you. If you want to not be seen with me until after I’ve turned sixteen, I understand,” I said. Damn! I wonder how dangerous it was for Molly to… Well, as far as I was concerned, no one was ever going to find out about that.
“Hmph. If I didn’t think you were worth the risk, I’d never have let you in my car the first time. You’ve really come a long way, Jacob. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
On the way out of class Monday morning, I slipped a red folder onto Ms. Levy’s desk. She glanced up at me and then put the folder in her briefcase.
“Not until after the holiday,” she said.
At lunch I met up with my crew. God! What a bunch of beautiful women. It almost made me weep. Joan and Rachel were my lovers. Desi was as playful and close to becoming a lover as she could get before our sixteenth birthdays. Livy gave me a hard on every time I saw her and had said Sunday that we’d get together soon—with Rachel. Brittany was a strange combination of sweetness and mischief. I could forget about her sexually unless we danced. She had the same fire in her salsa her Aunt Sophie did. And Beca… I just adore her! I’d do anything for my best friend in the world. Anything.
“Hey, can I ask you all something?” I said, interrupting what was sure to be a full lunch period story about the last weekend of the Ren Faire in Kentucky. “It’s quick, I promise.”
“What’s up, Jacob?” Beca asked. She scooted over closer to me and put an arm around my waist.
“Well, I was wondering if you’d all come over to my place Thursday night. Nothing big, I’d just like to be with the most important people in my life that evening. And, not a make out session. My family will be there—all except Em and I’ll see her on the weekend.”
“Jacob? Is this…?” Beca started. She hugged my arm tighter.
“Um… Livy and Brittany, you weren’t with us at the end of February. I had a little party then, too. Well, Mom and Dad kind of let it get out of hand and there were a lot more people than I intended. But this time I’d like it just to be us. It’s my… one-year birthday from when I woke up after my… accident. I just want the girls I love to be with me.”
I didn’t expect Desi to burst out crying and throw herself in my lap.
“It was a year ago today,” she sobbed. She pulled her phone out of her hip pocket and thumbed the messages. “I, Jacob Hopkins, bid one week of slavery to Desi Whitcomb in exchange for her virginity,” she read from the phone. “And… And seconds later you were hit by a bus. A year ago today. I love you, Jacob. Please don’t get hurt again. Please.” I held my cosplay partner girlfriend in my arms and kissed her teary eyes.
“Sweetheart, I’m being really careful around buses these days.”
The girls all agreed to come over Thursday night. Desi didn’t get off my lap until the bell rang and we had to go to class. I realized my shirt sleeve was soaking wet where Beca had been crying against it.
The week seemed to be crammed full of stuff that just had to get done before the holiday break. Teachers had all pretty much hit their stride and, while not every class was a great experience, every class had homework. I got home from cross country in time to meet my study partner of the evening for an hour, eat dinner, do homework, play my guitar, chat with my girlfriends and fall asleep. Five o’clock seemed to come earlier every day. Nanette and I were sticking to known paved roads and trails so we had less risk of tripping in the dark. We wore reflective vests and headlamps.
Wednesday after school was our first weeknight cross country meet. We boarded the bus and headed to Northrop for a four-team invitational meet. It was a decent 5k groomed course at Shoaff Park and part of the trail was along the river. But it was clear up on the north side of the city and running a strange trail late in the day is a little spooky. They started the boys first and fifteen minutes later the girls headed out. I tried to ignore the other runners and run my own pace but kept speeding up when a runner passed me. I was dragging when I entered the chute and got checked off. I walked around for about five minutes when the fastest girls started entering the chute.
There was a real sprint at the end as three girls raced to get to the finish line first. Livy got edged out and ended the race in third place. I thought she’d been pushed just before the finish line, but the judges didn’t call anything. Of course, I couldn’t get to her until she reached the end of the chute and had her time and position recorded. I was waiting there for her with Jock and she collapsed on the ground as soon as she was out of traffic. Jock knelt beside her and I started working on her legs, earning me a strange look. Livy and I had our routine down, though, and I wasn’t going to let her stiffen up as she cooled down.
Once Jock was satisfied that it was just normal race fatigue, he congratulated Livy and went to meet the other runners. I helped Livy to her feet and we walked off the fatigue.
“It looked like you got shoved at the finish line,” I said. “Are you really okay?”
“I just didn’t have another step left and stumbled,” she said. “Those girls pushed me beyond my limits. How’d you do?”
“A few minutes slower than you. Jock said I was in at 21:37. New personal best but I was shot when I crossed the line.”
“That’s great. You’re getting better every day. All that mileage really helps. I’m looking forward to meeting your other running partner and finding out if she has any tips when we’re doing our tens,” Livy said. We boarded the bus, still dripping inside our track suits. If it wasn’t for those, though, we’d have gotten chilled as the evening progressed.
“Nanette said she’s looking forward to meeting you and Emily Monday. I guess she might get the full treatment if Rachel succeeds in bringing the rest of our girlfriends along.”
“God. I’m beginning to stink. I could sure use another of those cozy showers with you,” she said.
“Not a chance that either of our parents would accept us just coming home and hopping in the shower together.” I stopped and thought about that. I wasn’t so sure about my parents any longer. They seemed awfully accepting of my relationships. “Not on a school night,” I added.
Announcements were made during third period biology at nine-thirty Thursday morning. Getting a break from that class was always welcome. I had a feeling this class would be my downfall. I never did like biology and faced the class more with grim determination than enthusiasm. It turned out that I’d placed fifth on my team in what had been a slow race overall, so had acquired points and helped the combined boys’ and girls’ team to our third-place finish. Livy, of course, was honored for her place and for leading the girls’ team to victory. We celebrated at lunch.
“Whoever thought our table would become a sports table?” Joan moaned after Livy’s volleyball teammates all stopped by to congratulate Livy. “Jacob, Livy is attracting all these tall hot girls to our table. Why aren’t you bringing any tall hot guys over for us?”
“Joan, I didn’t know you had difficulty attracting tall hot guys on your own. Are you coming up short?”
“I’m not coming at all. My boyfriend is ignoring me.”
Shit. She was being a drama queen and teasing, but that was exactly what I was afraid was going to happen. How is there enough time in the day for a guy to handle seven girlfriends, even if only six were near and I was actively lovers with only two. There weren’t enough hours in the day.
I left my food where it was and moved over next to Joan to hug her.
“Girlfriend, I don’t mean to ignore you. Joan, what can I do to make it better for you?”
“Jacob, I’m teasing. Don’t take my silly complaints seriously.”
“I do, Joan. I want to be a good boyfriend for you. For each of you,” I spoke a little more loudly. “I feel like I’m not spending enough time with each of you. It’s not because I don’t want to.”
“Jacob, we’re each spending time with you,” Beca said. “We’re in high school and we all live in our separate homes. We’re not in a position where we can all sleep together, or even in couples. That’s just part of growing up. We can spend time in well-regulated activities like studying and sports, but even the parents who are tolerant of our sexual activities aren’t making opportunities for us to get in trouble. It’s just that once the beast is awakened, it has to be fed. We’re all horny to one degree or another.”
I don’t think I’d ever heard Beca admit to being horny. But what she said was correct. My eighty-year-old head wanted to go buy a house in the country and have all the girls move in with me and have sex with each of them every day. Not only was that going to wait until we were out of high school, but in this reality, it was going to wait until we were out of National Service, too. If we could make it happen at all. If we could all stay together. If… if… if.
“Joan,” I whispered to her. “I’m not good at making sex dates but I want to make love to you. As soon as possible. I want to be naked with you in your bed.” I could see her breathing speed up as her chest heaved with each breath. “Do you want to pick me up after practice this afternoon and go to your house for a while?” She didn’t speak, just nodded her head.
Two-and-a-half hours later, I was feasting on Joan’s nipples as she rose toward her first peak. The sensitive little tips drove her wild and when I rolled on top of her, she spread her legs to accommodate me. I managed to slide into her hot welcoming quim without letting go of the nipple I was sucking on. The ripples of her first orgasm welcomed my cock.
“I love you, baby. I don’t ever want you to feel I’m neglecting you. Not just for sex but for anything else. I want to hold you, talk to you, kiss you, love you, and just be with you. I love you.”
Joan cried through her next two orgasms and I joined her as I emptied myself into her body.
“I love you, Jacob. I never thought I would. I just do. Every day I go to class and think, ‘This is it—my last year of high school and then I’ll have to leave the most important people in my life.’ You and Beca, Jacob. You are the most important people in my life and I’m so frightened to leave and maybe lose you.”
“We’ll figure out how these things work, doll. I’m learning some from Em and by the time you enter service, we’ll know how to keep in touch, when we can see each other, and what our specialties will be.”
“Right now, I want your specialty to be filling me again. Fill me and make me feel loved. Then we have to go to your staying alive party.”
My V1 parents believed that if they took me to church and made me read the Bible, I would be a moral and ethical person. By the time I was in my twenties, I’d realized the Bible was missing specific needed advice, like how to get a date on Saturday night and best sex positions for novices. I learned morality and ethics from my peers, and our idea of it was not always noble.
V1 was a pre-war baby, not a baby-boomer. And not part of the greatest generation. That honor fell to my father’s generation—specifically, his younger brother. I was only seven when Uncle Dave came home from the war. He was battle fatigued—Grandpa said ‘shell-shocked’—and spent a lot of time staring blankly into space. That’s what we called it before a doctor invented PTSD. Uncle Dave had been wounded and his best friend—all his friends, really—had been killed in the Normandy invasion. He startled easily, often became violent, and had a difficult time holding down a job. He had a permanent dent in his skull where shrapnel had hit him. He was married five times and had no children. The family rumors we younger generation discovered years later were that he never consummated any of his marriages. I wondered where V3’s Uncle Dave was and what condition he was in.
My V3 parents believed that if they raised me to love and respect others morally and ethically, God would take care of himself. My moral and ethical upbringing included making sure my room was kept neat and clean so any girlfriends who visited would not be uncomfortable in it. It would be disrespectful to invite a girl into a pigsty. Overall, neither generation had advice on how to get a date Saturday night or what sexual position was best, but I preferred the latter.
My V1 contemporaries professed to be Christian but largely ignored religion until they were old enough to use it as a cudgel on the younger generation. Then they were pious, holy, and—to read their Facebook posts—spent their days in prayer and condemnation of those who disagreed with them.
As V3, I, too, considered myself a Christian. But I was most concerned about how to treat my family and my girlfriends with love and respect. I found church, when I went, to be a comfort and support. The church my family attended encouraged a moral and ethical life but did so without holding eternal condemnation over our heads.
“Jakey. Girls, I have fresh baked cookies for you. Would you like milk?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hopkins,” Beca said. “May I help you get drinks for everyone?”
“Jakey, I love your girlfriends,” Mom said as she led Beca to the kitchen, followed closely by Joan. I quelled a mass movement of girlfriends to go help. There just wasn’t that much room in the kitchen.
“So, what do we call this day of celebration?” Dad asked as he sat back in his favorite chair. Peyton crawled into his lap and he kissed his youngest daughter on top of her head.
“Is this ‘second birthday’? Like the Hobbits had ‘second breakfast’?” Rachel giggled.
“Good thinking,” I laughed. “And a good question, Dad. It’s kind of why I wanted my family to gather with me for a little while tonight. I haven’t talked much about this, but I know you’ve seen a difference in me since I came back. And… well, at least Beca and Rachel have noticed a few oddities about me that they’ve asked me to explain. I mean oddities that aren’t just normal teen boy things. I think I’d like to celebrate this day each year as Reincarnation Day. I’m a little bit Hindu, I guess.”
“You mean like you’ve discovered past lives?” Livy asked. That got straight to the point. I nodded.
“When I woke up on August twenty-ninth last year, I felt like I had lived a life before. In fact, things were spookily familiar, like a lot of déjà vu. People were similar to people I’d known before, but subtly different. And a lot of ideas I had just seemed old fashioned.”
“For real?” Beca asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of being Hindu,” Mom said. “We’re Christians here. But Reverend Davis has always said that we should learn from all spiritual paths and not assume any one has all the answers. Perhaps we should take you to one of those hypnotists that do past life regressions.”
“I’d rather not have someone else mucking around in my memories,” I laughed. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just that occasionally something from that past life pops into my head and out my mouth before my present head processes it. I’m afraid that I might have offended some of you when that happens and I don’t mean to. I’m sorry and I’ll try to do better.”
30 August 2019
I did it! I managed to give a plausible excuse for my existence without sounding like I’d just arrived from Mars. It’s really close to the truth and actually makes it easier for me to understand as well. I’ve simply regained some past life memories. Now I only sound weird as hell and not totally insane.
The thing is, that when V1 was living it, I felt like I had a good life and just wanted it to be longer. But looking back on it now, I think how shallow and meaningless so much of it was. I just went where people expected me to go, hardened into a shell that the world around me shaped, and was unreceptive to ideas and opinions that disagreed with mine.
I want to live a life that is more aware than what I remember of my past life.
As I kissed each of my girlfriends goodnight, I reminded myself specifically what was special about each one and why I loved her. Joan for her audacious behavior and sexuality concealing a bright and loving personality. Desi for her theatrics and sheer joy in performing—publicly or in private. Brittany for her quiet mischief and open sensuality when we danced. Livy for my overwhelming lust tempered by a common love for running and teasing. Rachel for connecting with my spirit and looking into my soul. And dear sweet Rebeca for opening my eyes to this new world that I inhabit and becoming my true friend.
I hugged Mom and Dad and thanked them for understanding my little moment of celebration. Then I picked Pey up and carried her to bed. I knelt by her side and together we whispered a little prayer for Em.
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