Double Tears
Part XI: Velitation
Chapter 127
“The only way to be free from the fear of surveillance is to be absolutely harmless”
—Claire North, The Sudden Appearance of Hope
I HARDLY NOTICED Election Day come and go. At sixteen, I couldn’t vote. Livy did. Rachel was mad because she wouldn’t have the vote for another five days. A woman got elected president, so they were all happy. I tried to pay more attention to the politics but the differences between the candidates seemed so slight that it was a toss-up as far as I could see. The big thing she campaigned on was normalizing relations with our southern neighbors. It seemed that normal at the moment included Texas ranchers trading shots with Mexican hombres manning the wall.
The International Court of Public Opinion still held the US to blame for the border hostilities and the liberal media kept ranting about Mexico having a right to defend its border against aggressive US Imperialists. It sounded so much like Vietnam era rhetoric I expected the Mexican president to be named Nguyen.
Friday night, Rachel and I had our date to go see Desi in The Fishbowl. All right. We all went. But I sat next to Rachel and held her hand while we laughed ourselves silly at the ‘Hoosier farce.’ I thought about how the play would have been received in V1’s world and looked around to see if there were any armed protesters. Didn’t see anyone.
The play took place in a small town in Indiana where a new minister had just arrived to take over the local congregation leadership. He was a recent seminary graduate and wore a clerical collar. The whole farce was based around his wife, actor friend, and helpful neighbors, all thinking it was funny that he would dress so formally and teasing him by dressing in clerical collars as well. A constant state of confusion ensued as none of the characters knew the others were playing this game and compromising situations developed as a minister exited stage left and another entered stage right.
Add an old man who showed up on Saturday nights to drink with the preacher and argue about Daylight Saving Time, and an unexplained woman in a hijab who kept wandering through and looking in windows as if she was waiting for her cue. Which never came.
I could see churches protesting, mosques protesting, alcoholics protesting, and homophobes protesting if this had taken place in V1’s reality. Someone would have started shooting. There was even a scene when the old man is looking in the preacher’s desk for his bottle of whiskey when you think he was planting a bomb.
They didn’t miss many opportunities to poke fun at people and it was just ridiculous enough that we couldn’t stop laughing.
After the show, we all got to kiss Desi and she chose Sophie to go with her to the cast party while the rest of us went out for burgers.
I took Rachel to a motel.
Stupid, right? Neither her parents nor my parents objected to us sleeping together in each other’s bed. Either Nanette or Donna would have given us a room in their homes. I still had the bed made up in the back of the truck. Five beds to choose from and I took her to a motel.
I’d done some investigating and discovered a decent place I could afford that had a pool, room service, and a bridal suite. I picked her up at the door to our room and carried her inside at midnight.
“Happy eighteenth birthday to you, my love!” I said. She was giggling so hard she could hardly breathe but kept a firm hold of my neck as she planted rows of kisses up my jaw.
“You’re crazy and I love you! For three weeks, I’ve felt like we were the same age and now I’m a cradle-robber again,” she laughed.
“I’m going to rock your cradle,” I said, carrying her to the bed. “And if I can, I’ll rock your world.”
“Big talk for a guy who still has his clothes on!” she said. She rolled away from me and began stripping off her clothing as quickly as possible. I joined her in undressing and, in a minute, we were naked and crawling across the bed to meet each other in the middle.
“I thought about stealing a couple of those clerical collars after the show to see if that was all it took for an effective disguise.”
“It must be. I didn’t even notice the preacher was white and his best friend the actor was black. They looked just the same.”
“And the short Mexican woman next door looked just as tall as the men,” I laughed. “You would never have known who was in bed with you.”
Rachel reached down and stroked my cock as we kissed.
“Somehow, I think I could tell,” she whispered. “I love you, Jacob.” We got down to some serious kissing as we lay back on the fifty or so pillows on the bed.
“I wonder if I could ever have loved you like this without the old man’s memories of you in his life. He was so filled with regrets.”
“Do you struggle to keep your lives separate? Having someone else’s memories of a different time must be confusing. I want you to know that I don’t care who he was or what he did. All I care about is what’s in here and here.” She pointed at my head and heart. Well, that was the problem, wasn’t it? In my head, I still had the old man rattling around trying to spoil everyone’s fun. I argued with myself all the time, even struggling not to feel guilty about renting a motel room. In my heart, I was seventeen and in love. And in love. And in love.
“The biggest thing that I struggle with is feeling like I’m cheating on you when I’m with Donna or Desi. Or any of the others,” I said. “The old man would have been horrified that I would mess around with someone else when I’m so deeply in love with you.”
“Jacob, I love you, but you must understand that I’m not about to give up those yummy pussies to be exclusively with you. Have you tasted Nanette after a run? Put your cock in me, I just spritzed.” I slid smoothly into Rachel’s steamy core and she sighed. “I know you love me, darling. I know I love you. And I know we both love all our girlfriends and would never do anything to hurt one of them—even the ones we don’t have sex with, like Cindy. Yet.”
“No. Not gonna happen.”
“Not yet. She and all the rest of us know she’s not ready for intimacy. She’s physically maturing rapidly. But emotionally, she’s at least a year behind where any of the others in our group are. Maybe more. It comes from leading such a sheltered and isolated life with her music,” Rachel said. I continued slow even movements in and out of her pussy. When we really made love, it wasn’t an act of just our genitals. We engaged intellectually and philosophically. The sensations coming from our middle served to heighten the experience instead of overwhelm it. “But you have to admit, she already has a crush on you. You are her defender. You established that at the cast party after Masque last year. And she trusts you not to try anything she’s not ready for. But one day, my love, you will turn around and discover you are naked in her arms and she’s become a woman.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to complicate Cindy’s life or that of any of my pod mates. Turn around and discover I’m naked in her arms? I suppose. One day I turned around and discovered she was a member of our pod. Everything is possible.
The intense possibility of an orgasm was now making its presence known. Rachel and I kissed as I kept the even tempo of our joining that she liked so much. At this pace, we could both feel the pressure steadily building toward our release and if possible, we’d keep the tempo all the way through our orgasm.
“I love making love like this,” I whispered. “You are the only one who I connect to in this way.”
“Yes. I can feel you swelling and getting ready to come in me. I know that when your first spurt touches my cervix, I’ll be unable to restrain myself and everything will flow over in my love for you. Where we are now is where we belong. Fill me, Jacob. I’m yours.”
We lost the ability for words for a few minutes as both our bodies contracted and then expanded in orgasmic bliss.
Rachel took her NSAT—required within thirty days of her eighteenth birthday—the following Friday. She felt comfortable with the testing and was certain she’d be on an accounting track. She didn’t hide her ability with numbers, even though she wasn’t taking Calculus. But it was her analytical mind that could cut through a myriad of data to get the essentials that would make her invaluable in an accounting office. She was already handling all the accounts for Marvel and Hopkins, including now paying a small fee to John for his services. We were up to nearly a thousand dollars a month in subscriptions.
Livy was creating a lot of organizational structure for us. She’d taken my elementary plan from when I took Intro to Entrepreneurship to Mr. Bryce and discussed the realities now that we actually had a product and were selling it. He was guiding her through the thought process of integrating all the new features into the business plan and formalizing a corporate entity.
And Betty was working with Donna. That was a bit of a surprise when she showed up at our pod gathering Saturday and actually asked how Donna wanted to handle requests for us to perform. That took us all back a step. The only live performances Cindy and I had planned were playing with the high school orchestra. She also played with the community orchestra but we weren’t together on that. Maestro Sokolov had no desire to add a guitar to his orchestra as he had a perfectly wonderful harpist.
Betty had received a call from an executive at United Service Corp. The company was planning their annual employee holiday party and the entertainment they’d selected had canceled. The company party was more a formal get together than the kind of drunken revels V1 remembered. It would be held at Dudley’s Dinner Theater, a kind of showroom with a stage for performance. The employees came to the party to see a name entertainer. Us?
That brought us all into a discussion of roles in the business of entertaining. Donna didn’t consider herself to be our manager or agent. She functioned as producer, seeing that we had everything needed for our recordings and performances. None of us in our teens really had a notion of how to function as a manager/agent. That’s when Sophie stepped into the gap. She’d worked with the dance company in New York for five years and had an agent of her own. She felt certain she could fill the position for the time being. Beca asked if she could tag along and learn the process.
The upshot was that we had another performance date on our calendar for December twelfth—just four days after the orchestra’s holiday concert at the high school.
“So, what are we playing for this corporate concert?” I asked Cindy as we were preparing our Saturday evening broadcast of the Mozart piece. We were taking it easy and decided to do the launch from her house. Her mom, dad, and younger brother were there as were my parents and Pey. Cindy’s older brother, Keith, was out on a date. We’d set things up so Cindy’s family and mine could get to know each other better since Cindy was definitely now considered a part of our pod.
“I thought you’d pick the music.”
“Don’t you have some thoughts? Do we need to play Christmas music?”
“No,” Betty broke in. “I did have the initial conversation with Mr. Vongole, the company president. He specifically said that holiday music was not required but that they thought your music was highly entertaining and that was what they were looking for.”
“Hmm. I hope they don’t think they’ll see on stage what we can do in video. Even tonight’s video which is played straight through has a lot of camera angles and cuts,” I said.
“We haven’t done a Piazzolla concert. I know you’ve been working on some because you did guitar pieces in your Sunday morning concerts,” Cindy said.
“That could be fun. Do you know how to tango?”
“What!?”
“I’m kidding.”
“Have you thought about doing a live stream?” Mom asked.
“A live…? You mean sending it out on the Internet as we are playing the concert? Whoa. I never even considered it,” I said. Mom hit me out of the blue with that one.
“It could be your December concert,” Mom continued. “You usually push your new pieces out the second weekend of the month—like tonight. I’ll bet you could get quite an audience for a live performance.”
“Wow!” Cindy said. “I guess it would be okay since we have a live audience in the theater. It wouldn’t be like just performing in front of a camera. That makes me nervous.”
“You never show it!” I laughed.
“That’s because if we make a mistake when we’re filming, we can just redo it and John cuts it together. And how would that work? Just set a camera in front of us and let it run while we play to the audience?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, partner, but I’m not shooting down the idea. We’ll have to ask John if it’s even possible. It will really give us something to think about this week.”
“We need to talk to Sophie, too,” Mom said. “She has been talking to Mr. Vongole about the program. I think she has you slated for two half-hour sets. Can you do that with one composer? This Piazzolla?”
“There’s plenty of music. We might need to use music,” I said.
“I hope there’s nothing on your schedule for the next four weeks. We’ll have to practice every day.”
“Do you know the American Youth Orchestra, Jacob?” Mom asked when I got home from my rehearsal with Cindy Wednesday night. It was true: We needed to rehearse every day. I just hoped the rest of our pod was okay with it. Sunday we’d broached the idea of a live performance when we were all out at Donna’s house and the girls jumped all over it. Donna said she’d take care of discussing the process with John since she was the producer. Sophie was to discuss the possibility with Mr. Vongole since it was his company’s party.
“I don’t think so. Maybe Mr. LeBlanc mentioned them once. Why?” I asked.
“You have a letter from them. It looks like a regular letter and not just an advertisement,” she said, handing me the envelope. I looked at it and shrugged, ripping it open. I had a little difficulty comprehending what I was reading and read it a second time.
“What is it, dear?” Mom asked.
“Um… It’s from the um… director of the school, I guess. The orchestra is an adjunct to a school for the arts in Washington DC. They perform regularly at places like the Kennedy Center.” I read through the letter again.
“And?”
“Um… They… I mean he… has seen our YouTube channels, mine, Cindy’s, and the new one of the two of us together. He says he’d like to invite us to audition for a position at the school this summer. I think he means both of us.”
“Have you firmed up plans for the summer?” Dad asked. “You need to honor your commitments to Riko and Riley.”
“So far, that’s just in discussion stages. They’re trying to decide what the best venues will be for this year. But we haven’t committed to anything yet.” I looked at the letter again. “Do you guys mind if I go out for a while? I need to think about this.”
“Of course, dear. You can invite everyone over here if you want but I know you all like to go out to Donna’s.”
“Wednesday is our usual study night. I had almost decided to just go to bed tonight but I think I’d better go.”
“Remember you can talk things over with us any time,” Dad said. I was really thankful for him right then.
“They mention us both but I didn’t get a letter,” Cindy said as we gathered around Donna’s table. We were supposed to all be studying, but this was the most unusual thing we’d had happen since Livy got her aptitude scores and the NS suggested she might qualify for their athletics program.
“I think I know why,” Nanette said. “It’s here on the second page with qualifications. It says that candidates must have scored high in musical aptitude on the PNSAT and be at least sixteen years old. You won’t be sixteen until July and won’t take the PNSAT until October next year.”
“Not much sense in me auditioning then,” I said. “I won’t leave Cindy alone while we can still build a market.”
“Don’t be too quick to refuse the audition,” Desi said. “They invited you to audition together, even though the invitation to join the National School of the Arts is only for you. If you audition together, it might increase Cindy’s opportunity the next year when you are in service.”
“Good point, Desi,” Donna said. “I think if it’s possible for you to audition together, you should do it. Auditioning doesn’t mean you are forced to accept the position if it’s offered.”
“Really? They practically blackballed the school to get me to take calculus,” I said. “But you’re right about it getting Cindy more exposure. I’ll do it for that if you want to audition, Cindy.”
“Thank you, Jacob. I know you have my best interests at heart,” she said.
“That’s true,” Rachel affirmed. “We all do. But Jacob needs to realize he’s being recruited for his talent, not just for yours. Honey, you don’t give yourself enough credit. We all believe in Cindy’s talent and potential. But we believe in yours, too. You need to believe in it as well.” I pulled my sweetheart into my arms and kissed her.
“What am I going to do without you next year?” I asked. Rachel and Livy would have to start service within five months of graduation. I’d go through my senior year without them.
“You are going to depend on our pod, just like we will,” Rachel said. “We’re going to get through our service and come out even more in love and more supportive of each other.”
“I don’t understand why they even recruit high school seniors for this,” I said. “We’ll just leave the next year. Mr. LeBlanc told us several times in orchestra that we won’t really gel together until the spring concert. It takes months for an orchestra to blend together into a cohesive whole. Wouldn’t you say, Cindy?”
“That’s my experience.”
“There’s another possibility,” Donna said. We all looked up at her. “I just wonder if the American Youth Orchestra, like the Olympic and USA National Teams, is now a part of the National Service. The National Service doesn’t have to worry about academic eligibility like colleges and universities do. The service only has to train you to do one job. You won’t have a well-rounded academic profile like you would have in college, but you might have a superior technical education in your field of choice.”
That was something to think about.
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