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Dancing On Daddy's Shoes - Chapter #1 Runs The Deep River Timothy Glass and Benjamin Ackerman sat on the banks of the Tennessee River tossing flat stones into the calmly flowing waters. Over head the sun had well begun its westward journey to the Pacific and the Tennessee afternoon was beginning to cool. The air was thick with Mayflies and every so often one would dance dangerously close to the surface of the river's smooth current only to be snapped up by a lurking trout. Spring was slowly yielding to the heat and humidity of summer as the seasons marched endlessly on, so too was Tim and Ben's first year of high school coming to a conclusion. As with many students, the transition had not been an easy one. Going from being at the top of the food chain to a pair of bottom feeders had been a great shock. It didn't help that both of them were hopeless geeks, hard studiers with great academic skills but lacking in the art of social communication, especially in the company of the fairer sex. "Ask Amy to the prom?" Tim asked Ben. Ben had boasted how he had planned to do just that two weeks ago. Amy Silverman was a sweet friendly girl of the same grade and age as Ben. She often stopped to chat with Ben between classes but Tim suspected there was more to it than just friendly fraternity. At least for Ben's part anyway. "Naw-- I ain't goin..," Ben said glumly. Tim could tell that in the end, Ben had been to frightened to ask. "What about you, you ask anyone?" Ben asked. "You know I didn't," Tim answered sarcastically. He could be honest with Ben. "It's not like this is even our prom. We have two more years of proms after this one. I'm not in any hurry." Tim bluff his way though his discomfort and embarrassment about the issue. Ben depended on Tim to take the lead in most matters of social interaction. Ben could not interoperate or anticipate social queues and innuendo. For Ben, the unspoken language of suggestion and body language didn't exist. Without Tim's help to set the example, Ben found he could not communicate on a social level. Now, as Tim grew apart from his own youth, Ben found himself increasingly frustrated with Tim's seemingly unwillingness to set the example that Ben could follow. Now Tim was allowing his own fear begin to impede on Ben's ability to satisfy something Ben saw as a true need, the need to experience a girl. Ben held his tongue for the time being. Instead, he drew in a deep breath, exhaled long and slow and tossed another small stone into the river. * KER PLUNK * Tim swatted at a few mosquitoes that were snacking on his arms and finally hopped up and declared. "I hate this fucking river... Why do we always come down here? The fucking bugs are like something from 'The Land That Time Forgot'; it's muddy all the time... It stinks like shit down here..." Tim fumed as he stomped about bitching about his environment. "Hey Tim-- when you're the one with the car, then you can bitch about where we go," Ben said, his frustration with Tim beginning to show. There he goes again, Tim thought, striking out at everyone else because HE's a geek! Tim fired back, "Fuck you!" "Screw you Ben. Why can't we go to the mall or something? Why do we always come down here?" "Stop whining... you sound like a girl. Do I look like your fucking boyfriend?" Ben asked sarcastically. "The mall sucks anyway. It's filled with girls that don't want anything to do with you or me. I feel like a kid with no hands in a candy store. Even if I could pick up the candy, I couldn't get my money out of my pocket to pay for it!" "What do you want Ben, a girl to simply walk up to you and ask you to let her sit on your face?" "That would be nice for starters," Ben admitted with a large grin. "Jesus," Tim sighed in frustration. "Who do you think you're fooling Ben?" Tim asked. "If you think it's me then you're nuts. I've known you too long Ben. So don't sit there and think that if I manage to get a date, then you're in too. I can't make a girl like you Ben. Fuck, I can't even make girls like me!" Ben didn't answer. Instead he brooded, choosing to turn back to the river and stare out over the muddy green water of the Tennessee. Ben didn't want to believe that Tim, his best friend couldn't help him. He chose instead to believe that Tim wouldn't help. He believed that if Tim got a date, that Ben would jeopardize his own chances at getting laid by making Ben part of the 'Package Deal'. So what was the best answer for Tim? No deals, Ben would be on his own if Tim got a date. Every time we get together, Ben seems to have drifted further away than before. What's going on with him? Tim thought. As Ben got older it seemed he was withdrawing some place deep within himself. He needed more and more help bridging the distance between his place in the world and the rest of humanity. Tim stood there looking at Ben stare out at the river. He simply sat there tossing pebbles out into the stream. Tim had a good idea of what Ben was waiting to hear. Okay Ben-- Tim rehearsed in his head, --I'm sorry. We're a team. Where I go you go. All for one and alone together until we die! Right buddy ole pal o' mine? BULLSHIT! Tim's mind screamed. You can't carry him for the rest of his life. What in the fuck are you thinking? Tim felt trapped. If Tim didn't stick with Ben, no one else certainly would. But that was a death sentence for Tim. It felt like one anyway. A life time of sacrifice for someone that would forever become needier and needier seemed like and insurmountable task for someone with so much life yet to live. After a brief measure of time, Tim kicked the large mound of dirt he had been piling up with his feet, spilling it out in a mess on the boat ramp where Ben had parked his car. Ben turned angrily to where Tim had been standing; but Tim had turned away and had begun walking in the direction of the road. Ben didn't pursue him, truth be known, Ben's bravado was an act, a bluff. Be was grateful that Tim wasn't charging him. Tim was a big boy and could have hurt Ben easily. Not that Tim would have ever even considered such a thing, but Ben's angry nature had gotten the best of him many times in the past. It wouldn't have been much of a surprise to Ben if Tim had attacked. It was just another symptom of Ben's inability to make sense of the world around him. The fact was that all the boys and the girls their age were dealing with sexual awareness to varying degrees. That story has been told a million times throughout history. It's a tale without end. Still, even knowing this wouldn't have made that internal struggle any better for either boy. It didn't quell need brought on by desire. Knowledge didn't help put out the flames of their personal sex drives. Ben grappled to push the anger he felt for his friend's perceived betrayal deep down inside. Without Tim's help, Ben felt his chances at a date this year had faded to something less than transparent. Ben turned again and watched as Tim carried his bulk up the boat ramp and down the long dirt road toward the paved highway. He could sit there and let Tim walk away, but Ben feared that if he did that, the only dependable companion he had in the world would have nothing more to do with him. In the end, the risk had been weighed in the balance and found to be too costly for Ben. Loneliness was absolute when there was no one there to talk to except yourself. "Tim!" Ben scrambled to get to his feet as his buddy stalked off in a huff. "Wait up!" Ben ran for his car, a gift from his mother, paid for out of great sacrifice from their meager fixed income. The car however, an old beat up 76 Mustang, was nothing more than a symbol of his mother's denial of Ben's progressing condition. There was something wrong with her son. Her only solution had been to try to jumpstart her son's desirable traits by giving him something that all kids his age wanted. There was no possession that would make Ben Ackerman attractive to his peers, however. Still greater problems existed in the fact that Ben was not mature enough to handle the responsibility of such a thing. Susan, Ben's mother refused to acknowledge any of this. She saw Ben as nothing more than a late bloomer waiting on just the right set of circumstances to pull him out of his shell. To admit anything else would have been the same as giving up on her only child. Susan Ackerman would not do that. "Tim!" Ben shouted again as he fired up the Mustang convertible. It was Ben's first year driving and in spite of what he had learned about handling a car, there would be no denying that his youthful approach to motor vehicles was at best, reckless. Ben floored the accelerator throwing dust and rocks out behind the car, peppering the surface of the river with the debris. The loose dirt of the dusty road that led to the highway made control of the vehicle difficult. Ben over compensated speed and steering and nearly pinned Tim to a tree that was only feet away before managing to stop the car. "God damn it Ben!" Tim said as he fought back the almost uncontrollable urge to urinate on himself. Tim could see Ben laughing inside the cab of the car but understood that this was nervous laughter, meant to save face. No one knew Ben better that Tim. It was a dubious distinction Tim was not so sure he wanted much longer. Something had to break for both their sakes. "Pussy!" Ben cried, but to Tim it looked as if Ben might really start crying. This machine was too powerful for Ben. It was at times like this that Tim felt Ben might actually drive it into the river and walk away from the machine, if it weren't for Ben's massive sense of pride. Ben's own fear and lack of understanding for control over that mechanical power was very clear at times after he fucked up, as it was now. Oh well, Tim thought, he'd be safe for a few days now. It always happened that way. One near miss and Ben was the safest driver on the road. The problem was that Ben easily forgot the lessons of his near misses. All it would take was one of those lax moments at the wrong time and Ben would wind up dead from complacency. All Tim could hope for was that he wasn't with Ben when that complacency turned fatal. "Get in the car butt-munch," Ben called out. Tim, with no way to get home, short of walking, but still angry with Ben at being the victim of his ugly display and nearly being run over as a reward, shoved his anger aside and got in. "You almost killed me," Tim snapped. "I did not! This ol bucket of bolts loves me," Ben said patting the dash. "I know her every move." "Bullshit Ben," Tim said, buckling his seat belt for good measure, "One day you're going to kill someone because you can't keep it in your head that you haven't been driving for ten years." "Don't need to have. It's easy, you steer the wheel and the car goes where you want it to." Ben turned to Tim passing his index finger from his forehead to the dashboard, "We have a psychic link this car and me. We're on the same frequency." "Bullshit," Tim said and turned around, arms folded over his chest. "Truly," Ben said, "Watch this." But Ben couldn't seem to muster the bravery it was going to take to race out of the wooded area. Instead he paced himself at a much slower forty miles an hour. Still, he managed to slide here and there as he took curves in the road that were dryer and less stable than he anticipated. Ben would turn and scowl when Tim would chuckle as the Mustang's rear end would occasionally slide sideways surprising Ben. But much to his credit, Ben kept the vehicle at a slow pace and would not tempt fate this day. Once on the highway, Ben asked, "So, where'd ya' wanna go?" "Home-- I want to go home," Tim responded wearily. "To the mall it is." Ben cried. "Mall?" "Sure, that's where you wanted to go in the first place," Ben said. "Now I just want to go home," Tim said emotionally finished with the day. "Come on... Look, I'm sorry I got pissed. You're right, the river sucks. You want to go to the mall, no problem. I got some cash. Who knows, maybe this is our lucky day. We sure as hell aren't going to meet any girls on a muddy river bank." Ben admitted. "We aren't going to meet any girls anywhere. At least, not any that want to be with us." Tim replied. "Jesus!" Ben said shaking his head, "I sure as shit feel better about myself now. I don't know why I hang out with you." He mumbled. "That's easy; I'm the only one you know that won't shove your head in a toilet or try to stuff you in a trash can," Tim said. Ben was silent. It was true. Tim was the only person, a part from his mother, who liked Ben. For the first time in his life, Tim considered what life without Ben as his friend might be like? At the mall a half an hour and one soda later, Tim and Ben were standing in front of a storefront that boasted a strange name. The Spells-R-Us storefront had an old English-Tudor style fa?ade. Neither of the boys had ever seen the place before. It appeared to be open. Odd thing was that none of the shoppers in the mall seemed to be interested in this place that appeared to have cropped up over night. In fact it looked to Tim as if they hadn't noticed it at all. This was unusual in Baker, Tennessee. Baker was a town where the opening of a new Taco Bell often drew a crowd of a thousand plus as well as the Mayor, City Selectmen, at least one local Bluegrass band and Harrison Kitcher's Dancing Doggie Darlings act. "I wonder what they sell?" Tim asked quietly trying to peer in windows that appeared to have been dirtied deliberately. . "Spells-R-Us," Ben pronounced, "Sounds like a magic store," Ben said and Tim nodded in agreement. Ben pushed the door open and a small bell sounded alerting those within of the arrival of potential customers. Timothy walked in the door after Ben. The boys looked around the dank, dark space. It looked more a like poorly organized antique shop with knickknacks and odds and ends from other peoples lives strewn haphazardly about the shop. "This place is soooo Kewl," Ben was saying as Timothy made his way into the main body of the store. Tim thought that it was anything but kewl. It was creepy, that much was certain, but that didn't make the place kewl. Tim looked around at the environment. The place was dusty. Most everything looked old to him, but that could have been because of the dust. Everywhere he looked there were shelves of boxes, books, bottles, clothing, and other things that looked like spices or ingredients. There was a long counter, actually a glass case that was haphazardly filled with gold and silver rings, necklaces, jewelry and other things that he couldn't identify. Over that counter on the wall behind it, were a number of masks, some were animal some were more human in appearance. They ranged from the wildly colorful to blandly white or black. Toward the back were what looked like a number of costumes. Clothing racks lined the walls of the rear of the shop and stood two racks deep away from the wall toward the interior of the shop. On them hung dresses, pants, shorts, suits, and what looked to Tim to be the empty husks of people's bodies. Tim strode to the rack with the empty people suits. They hung from clips at the shoulders. They seemed to stare at Tim with empty socket eyes as if expecting something from him... something akin to life. As Tim drew nearer, he felt he could hear someone whispering to him. With dawning revulsion, Tim realized that it was the empty socket eyed people suits that were lip-lessly calling to him. 'Pick me...' pleaded one sweetly feminine voice. 'Oh pleeeaaaassssseeeee pick me. I want to feel someone's touch again. I'm so lonely'. To Tim the voice sounded so wretchedly sad. 'I was soooo pretty. I can make you pretty... You'll love being me I promise you...' Tim backed up a step and the voice; that of a girl that couldn't be more than 20 years old, cried, 'Wait! Please... I want to live again! Please put me on and let me live.' There were many voices, male and female; he heard them all at once, as if the one voice had woken the voices of the others. It was almost as if these were not costumes but really empty bodies with souls still attached to them. Another voice protested, 'No... pick me, put me on and I can show you so much.' this voice one equally as feminine and sexy insisted. Only this was almost demanding. 'You don't want to be a bitch son!' said one masculine voice. 'Put me on. I'm not supposed to be here. This is all a mistake. Come on Kid, take me off this rack and let me show you what pussy is all about!' 'You shut up!' fired another woman's voice from someplace in Tim's head. 'You got exactly what you deserved for trying to cheat the magic and you know it.' 'Liar! Liar! I'm telling you she stole my skin I didn't want to live inside her body... I shouldn't be here!' 'Don't listen to them handsome said another completely sexy voice. Come over here, and let me whisper to you...' Tim did as he was told. He was drawn inexorably to the grotesque visage of the empty skin of what looked to be a girl with dark red hair. The skin was anatomically correct but it was hard to tell what point of maturity this costume was supposed to represent in the life of a human. The breasts were not too large, they sagged a bit being attached to a loose empty skin. There was a patch of reddish brown pubic hair at the groin and from his vantage-point; he could see just the top of the lips of the costume's vulva. 'Take me in your hands and feel me. I'm still warm...' Tim gently lifted the skin in his hands. It was indeed warm. He was about to let it fall from his hands when he was jolted by a memory, a vision that played out rapidly. It was that of a young girl, maybe sixteen though she could have been older. She had wanted to try being... something else but Tim couldn't quite see it. 'I only wanted to see what it was like... you know, from a different perspective, said the voice. Put me on and see, I'll never leave you my love. You and I will be together always... just put me on, I can keep you wet all the time. Don't you want to feel something deep inside of you? Put me on and see what it's like to be me. Just try it; you'll love being...Wwwwwet!' Without much warning there was a hand gripping, pulling him back from some place inexplicable. Tim felt as if he were surfacing for air from deep under the depths of some soundless, liquid world. In fact, he gasped as he was pulled away from the racks of skins and voices and his head filled with the sights and sounds of the present and the world he actually lived. Almost as if they had been following him up from whatever depths he had come from, Tim could hear the screams of anguish from the souls trapped inside, pleading for life and the pleasure of touch and sight and taste once more. Tim found he still had the empty arm of the skin of the young girl who had enticed him so in his grip. He flung the empty skin back into the mix with the other. She wailed painfully as he rejected her advances, a jilted suitor denied the ultimate gift of union, that of life. With distance, mercifully, came silence. They were out of range or he had finally broken the hallucination, either way, it was over. The skins stared back at him accusingly now with the lifeless empty holes in their heads. Tim turned to say, 'Ben, I think we should leave,' when a voice startled him. "Greetings young Sir's!" bellowed a deep, robust voice from behind them. Both Ben and Tim spun around, with shouts of surprise, toward the glass case to find an old man standing there where only a second ago there had been no one. His long white hair and beard fell over his white shirt and tan vest. Tim could not see below the counter and therefore could not see the trousers the old man was wearing and Tim thought, He could be some sick old man naked from the waste down for all I know! "Where the hell--" Tim checked himself, "Ah... I mean, where in heck did you come from?" "I assure you son; I came from no place in Hell. I do not practice the 'Black Arts'," the old man replied, "and I can assure you young man, that I am not!" "Not what?" Tim asked confused. "Some crazy old man, 'naked from the waist down!" said the old man. Tim blushed. How in the fuck had he known I was thinking that?' Tim glanced at Ben who was staring at Tim with an odd embarrassed look. Tim started denial at his friend by holding out his hands in a "what" gesture and shaking his head, "You... How..." Tim stuttered, "I don't know what you're talking about!" The old man squinted one eye at Tim, "Are you calling me a teller of untruths young man?" Tim blushed a deeper shade of red and stammered several incoherencies and finally fell silent before this crazy old man did more to damage his already bruised ego. Ben asked, "Who are you?" Tim was grateful that the moment was broken. "The owner of this fine establishment," said the old man. "And this establishment is a..." Tim asked humbly, holding a poker face and trying hard not to not to ruffle the old man's feathers or give away any other clues to his thoughts. The old man smiled at Tim, "It's an establishment of enchantment, un atelier magique, un negozio di magia." "A what?" Tim asked in confusion. The frustration on the old man's face was clear, "It's a magic shop," the old man bristled as his shoulders sagged in disappointment, "Ugh! That always sounds completely unromantic in English." "Then where are all the magic tricks?" Ben asked. "Tricks?" The old man cried, sounding insulted and surprised at the same time. "Yeah, it looks more like a costume shop," Tim agreed. "I don't sell tricks gentlemen. I sell spells and enchanted devices, powders, potions and the like that achieve the deepest desires of my customers through magic." The old man spread his hands out wide at the accent of the last word and held his stance. Tim and Ben held their tongues as long as they could, then on queue, both started to snicker and then bray laughter. The old man looked on with a kind, almost devious smile. "So--" Tim started between bursts of laughter, "So-- You mean to tell me that you're a magician?" "Yeah, yeah..." Ben added. "You do things like, birthday parties and shit like that, right?" That got Tim and Ben laughing hard all over again. For the moment, it was one of those classic moments shared between friends; that in most cases, is spoken of for years to come. As the two boys laughed, the old man said in a flat, disgusted tone, "No, not exactly." "Then... then... you must be some sort of wizard right?" Tim said as he laughed. He slapped Ben on the back with great humor. His experience with the human costumes now had been rationalized as being some sort of trick. The old man smiled a broad grin, "Exactly young man." This statement from the obviously pleased old man almost brought them to their knees with laughter. "Okay--" Ben said trying his best to regain his composure which had long ago fled the scene. "Okay then--", Ben spat out. Beside him, Tim was trying to wave Ben off the question, knowing exactly where Ben was going. Tim feared that if Ben were able to get the question out, he just might piss in his pants. "Then where's your pointy hat. Don't all wizards wear tall pointy hats?" With no warning, both boys experienced a jolt of what felt like high intensity electricity surge through them. There was a huge pop that sounded more like a low-level explosion. Behind the counter, the old man vanished inside a cloud of snow-white, odorless smoke, and then there was only silence. As the smoke cleared, the old man stood; deep blue cape and robe made of satin. It was marked here and there with white stars, and crescent moons of varying shape and size. Perched on his head was a wide-brim cone shaped hat of the same color and design, "I hate doing that," The Wizard mulled, "it reduces what I am to nothing but a parlor trick." He smoothed out his cape and asked, "Well, is this more along the lines of what you expect a Wizard to wear on say... a trip to the grocery store?" "Whoa!" Both boys breathed softly under their breath in unison. Neither boy was laughing any longer. Both stood wild-eyed, bent slightly at the waist, leaning forward just a bit as though they're jaws had each gained 40 pounds in the moment. "Now, you boys came in here looking for something." Ben and Tim began shaking their heads, moving backwards towards the door. "Come, come... don't be afraid. It's not like I'm going to turn you into toads or something." Tim and Ben stopped; swallowed deep and hard and looked at each other. It was Tim that spoke up, "Ah, I don't think either of us really wanted anything. We just wanted to see what was in here. So, we'll just go now." Tim turned and made for the door but didn't get far before he realized Ben was not following. He returned to Ben's side and was tugging on his shirt for him to follow when the old man continued to reason out his confusion as if Tim and Ben weren't even in the same room. "That's curious..." said the Wizard, "Usually most people don't even know I'm here until they have a real need for my services." "Really, we don't wan--" Tim continued to protest while Ben remained oddly silent. "Welllll," the Wizard said drawing out the word, "that must mean that both of you are looking for something... Because if only one of you had wanted something, then you wouldn't have come here until you were alone." the wizard paused, "Let me see..." "No really, I mean--" Tim started to say, but was cut off. The wizard's eyes lit up like Christmas lights and he announced, "I have it! Prom dates!" announced the Wizard proudly." Tim looked at Ben and this time Tim whispered, "I think we should leave." Tim again turned for the door when Ben grabbed Tim by the shoulder, "Wait a minute... Give the old guy a chance." "Ben!" Tim whispered even more softly, "This isn't good. How in the hell could he have known that?" "That's exactly what I want to find out." Ben began to move back to the counter as Tim called after him, "No... Ben! BEN!" "Okay," Ben admitted, "you have my attention." The Wizard raised his eyebrows, "Aren't you interested too Tim?" "Ben," Tim hissed, "the guy's spying on us or something, how else could he have known? He's a stalker! One of those kidnappers you're always hearing about. Why else would this place be here when it wasn't here the day before?" Ben turned to his friend with frustrated, teenage bewilderment on his face, "What is wrong with you? This kind man--" with that the Wizard mumbled, "Thank you, Ben," and without missing a beat Ben continued, "--has seen from the look on our faces that we are hopelessly dateless. Hell, Tim, the entire school knows we're geeks. Half the guy's think we're gay because we only hang out with each other. Not to mention, I can think of easier ways to kidnap two boys. It isn't really much of a plan to rent floor space in a mall, build a store there, stock it up and hope your victims will wander in one day." "Excellent point Ben!" declared the Wizard. "You really should listen to him, that sort of plan would be far too costly." Tim almost didn't hear what the old man was saying. He had fixated on something Ben had said, "They think we're gay?" Tim mumbled embarrassed. "Yes Tim, they do, and you know it," Ben corrected. "Do you think we're invisible? That no one ever sees us with dates, or girlfriends? Even this guy can probably see it for God's sake. He's offered us prom dates," Ben turned to the Wizard, "That is what you're offering right, dates for both of us?" The Wizard smirked, "It's within my power to make that possible. It's also within your power to, how do you teenagers say it, 'Fuck it up'?" "See Tim... see? This may be our only chance to break this stereotype we're stuck with," Ben pleaded excitedly. "Ben... Come on! No one can make the girls just want to start liking us. There's no such thing as magic." Ben turned to the Wizard again, obviously excited by the prospect, "They'll be beautiful right... I want everyone to be jealous of us... everyone. The Wizard took out a pad of paper and began to scribble on it. He mumbled as he scratched out the words, "beautiful, everyone jealous. Okay, I got it, anything else?" "Ah... Ah," Ben said as he hurriedly tried to think of other desirable traits. "Take your time Ben," The Wizard soothed patiently. "I won't be seeing anyone else until tomorrow at about five o'clock. You have all day." Tim stood in the wings, listening, while this so-called wizard took down Ben's shopping list for the perfect prom date. It did nothing to calm Ben's excitement. "I want them to want us! You know... in that way." The Wizard glanced up over the tops of a pair of his wire rimmed glasses, "No Ben, I can't do that. Or should I say, I won't do that." "Why?" Ben practically whined. "I can think of two very good reasons. First, you're only sixteen. You're not prepared for fatherhood. I just don't trust that you would have the common good sense it would take to do the right thing yet." Tim stood behind Ben and secretively whispered, 'Yes,' to himself in celebration. Someone else see's what I see. Secondly, if I were to cast a spell that powerful, the girl would fall helplessly in love with you. She might not even want to, and deep down in her heart she would know it. She would silently resent you for what you asked. She would remain silent about that because she would also be in love and never able to voice her resentment to you. Is that what you want out of a wife?" "WIFE?" Ben cried, "I never said anything about a wife." "What are you asking for Ben, are you looking for love or lust? Are you asking me to make a woman love you or just want you? I don't do lust Ben, not at all. All that does is create disposable people. I won't cast any spell that would allow you or anyone else to toss someone that has an investment in you aside. If I would make her want you then the only thing I could do to ensure that is cast a love spell. You're asking for sex. Today, for most it's just a casual thing. The magic of becoming one with someone is just that, magic. Not contrived or a metaphor, but real magic. If you're asking for a heart you can throw away when you're done with it and all at no risk to you, then, no Ben, I can't do that for you. And you have to promise that you will not try to defy my will on this one. Otherwise the deal is off." Tim stood silently by and watched as the words of one of the feminine voice in his head play back, 'You're here for trying to cheat the magic and you know it.' Ben sulked, but in his head he knew he had possibly just caught the old Wizard in a mistake. "That mean's no kissing either?" "Ben, nothing, do you understand? She'll like you. That's all you get until you understand what love is about. It's not about selfishly wanting sex from your partner and until you know what that's about I won't make that part of the deal. That doesn't mean you don't have the power to bring her to love you." "Okay, I got it," Ben responded pitifully. "I don't know..." The Wizard thought long and hard. Tim was grateful Ben had stuck his foot in it and now it seemed the deal was off. Ben lamented testing the theory with such miserable results. He should have waited to field-test it, fuck the Wizard. Now it seemed the jig was up. "Alright, here's what I'll agree to. In spite of your friend's rude behavior when he came in here, I'll propose a test." "Okay, great! Anything--" "We'll see if Tim is more responsible than you." This time Tim wasn't silent or only half-listening. He made a beeline to Ben's side and started babbling right away. "Ben, no... I don't want to have anything to do with this." Now it was the Wizard's turn for silent listening. "Come on buddy, think about it. Girls! Of our own, for the prom..." "No Ben, I'd rather be dateless. It sounds risky. Just in the short time we've been here--" Tim started to say and then cut himself short. "What?" Ben asked. "He hasn't told us anything yet! What part of NOTHING sounds risky to you?" "Nothing," Tim replied curtly. "You're afraid of nothing?" Ben asked incredulous? "I'm not afraid," but the truth was that he was afraid, terrified in fact. So Tim tried to employ misdirection, "How can he promise us dates? And what can I possibly do to make that happen for us?" Ben imitated his friend with great exaggeration, "He's asking if we want the possibility to prove that we're not just geeks Tim! I don't want to be a loser for the rest of my freakin' life! Okay? Maybe you're happy with being the punching bag of the entire high school community, but I'm not. Now you're going to fuck this up for me because you're scared? What are you scared of, a night out with a date of your own, one night with a girl?" Ben asked, "I fucked up and got over anxious a minute ago. Now it's up to you pal." Ben turned to the wizard, "If he doesn't want to do this--" "Then the deal is off Ben," the wizard confirmed, "I'm sorry. Tim seems to have a good head on his shoulders I can trust. The last thing in the world I can afford now is to give you a chance when you've already shown me that you don't have any self-control. Tim here, I believe has enough to make sure neither of you get into any trouble. That's the deal, take it or leave it." "We'll leave it if you don't mind," Tim replied. "No!" Ben cried. "Look, let me talk to him for just a moment." The Wizard shrugged and waited. "Tim!" Ben said grabbing him by the shirt and stepping him out of ear shot of the old man. "Are you a fagot?" "What? Let go of me," Tim insisted, surprised at Ben's question, "No I'm not a fagot. If you say that again, I will punch you in the face. Count on it." "I don't care!" Ben said. "Punch me. It would be easier to take than what you're doing to me now. Don't blow this man. Don't you get tired of just hanging out with me?" "Funny you should mention that at just this precise moment Ben," It was a notion that he had toyed with all day long in fact. And what if it works? What if this is your key to a more normal relationship with Ben? What if he did find someone as a result of his 'experiment' so-called? What if... What if... What if... What if... The questions swirled about in his mind, growing in number until they overwhelmed him. Ben brought Tim back with yet another question, "You don't like being called a fagot." "I warned you Ben..." Tim said getting angry. "You did, but what are you going to do about it everyone else that calls you a fagot behind your back Tim? What are you going to do about the Jocks that are telling everyone that you and I are fagot lovers?" "That's not true. They aren't saying that," Tim said, but the authority was now gone from his bravado. "Yes they are Tim. I've heard it. Maybe you haven't because you choose not to, but I have. They're all laughing at you Tim. They're laughing at both of us." Tim was silent while he considered this latest news flash. Then Tim said, "But Ben, magic...come on. There is no way that this old man can just hand us beautiful prom dates on a platter. It's not possible, and the whole idea of fucking magic, Jesus Ben, where has your mind gone?" "It's in a trashcan where Kirk shoved the rest of me last week because he didn't' like the way I was walkin' down his hall way. You know why it's there?" Ben asked his friend. Tim shook his head, "Because I'm not big enough or strong enough to get any real respect from those clowns. They do it because I'm different from them, so are you fat boy and they'll keep doing that to us until we can show them that we can do what they do, at least in part. So please... Please do this and save us from the hell of the senior class." "No one thinks that I'm a fagot..." Tim said softly. "Yeah, tell yourself that the next time you get a locker opened in your face or you're tripped in the hallway with your mountain of books piled in your arms. Face it Tim, we're geeks and no girl is ever going to pay any attention to us as long as we're seen as geeks." "Jenny Turner doesn't think we're geeks." "Because Jenny is a freakin' geek!" Ben snapped back. "We have the chance to be the envy of the school and you're going to blow it for me." Tim narrowed his eyes, "For you?" Ben's excitement level dropped a notch, "I... I... I meant for us, Okay, for both of us. I'm just excited that's all. We about to give us the golden ticket and you're telling me, no thanks, I'll pass I'm afraid of Uoompaloompas. I don't want to blow it because you're scared of girls. He said it was just a test." Ben again turned to the Wizard, "That's right. That's what you said. It's just a test, isn't it?" The Wizard only nodded to the affirmative. Ben turned back to Tim, "See. If it doesn't work out, then the deal is off. No harm no foul. He's looking to you to prove that you have the common sense to keep me out of trouble." Again Ben turned back for confirmation. "That's exactly right Ben," the wizard agreed. Tim looked confused, "Ben, this isn't right." Tim extended his arm toward the Wizard, palm up and asked, "Have you noticed that he knew our names without our having to tell him?" "Tim, we must have told him." "We didn't Ben. It's like he knows stuff he shouldn't, stuff about us." The old man said, "I explained that. I'm a wizard." Tim shook his head, "No offence Sir, I don't believe that. In fact, it's bullshit." The Wizard was taken aback by the harsh statement. He hadn't seen that coming, but it was a moment of passion, not all such extremes are seen by the likes of him. Passion, he thought, very unpredictable. "Then there's no harm in humoring your friend then is there, just to see." Ben looked at time with pleading eyes. Please... Please... Please... Tim paused for a moment, putting together everything he'd heard to this point and then exhaled in a long frustrated breath, "What do I have to do?" "YESSSSSSSSSSS!" Ben cried out. The Wizard reached up behind him with an arm that seemed impossibly long and reached for a plain white mask on the wall at the top near the ten-foot ceiling. Holy shit! Tim thought as the old man's arm reached and reached and reached to impossible lengths, It's a trick of the light. There is no way this man has a seven-foot arm! He withdrew the mask from the pin that held it and turned and handed it to Tim. "What's this?" Ben asked disappointedly. "It's a mask." "Yes, I can see that. What do we do with it?" "It's for Tim," said the wizard. Ben looked totally deflated at the news. "He wears it and for the next twenty-four hours we see how you to behave once his identity is hidden from the general population. We see if Tim has the restraint to keep you out of trouble. Come back tomorrow and give me a report. If all goes well, you will both have dates for the prom in five weeks." "What's it do?" Tim asked this time. "It hides your current self from others, everyone but those that know you had the mask in the first place." "I'm gonna look silly wearing this around school," Tim said, almost laughing. "No one will know you have it on. Try it if you wish, otherwise, I will put it back on the wall." "We'll try it! We'll try it!" barked Ben. "No we won't," Tim said smacking Ben in the back of his head with the flat of his hand! "I'm not going into school or any place with this white stage mask on my face. Forget it Sir, thanks for amusing us." "Then I want to try it!" Ben hollered. "That's not the deal. I need someone I believe I can trust to keep you in check, Ben." The wizard scolded. "TIM, Come on buddy." Tim looked to the wizard, a look of Why are you egging him on? Let it go already, etched on his face. The wizard responded to the look, "Tim, I know how this sounds," admitted the wizard. "There are just some things we were never brought up to believe in. I didn't believe in magic either, not at first anyway. Then a man took me under his wing and taught me that magic was real. It didn't matter if you believed in it, because after you've seen it work, you believe anyway. You've already seen magic work... it will happen. After the test, you'll both have dates for the prom. That is an un-retractable, inescapable, non- refundable, guarantee. You'll both be the envy of the entire student body and then you can both have what your dreams call you to when the magic is done." "Just put it on right?" Tim asked skeptically. "Well..." the wizard hesitated. Tim pointed an accusatory finger at the wizard, "I knew it!" said Tim feeling he had just rooted out a conspiracy. The Wizard held up his hand, "Calm down Tim, of course there are rules. But the rules are put in place to protect you just as much as they are put in place to protect everyone else around you. You want protection, correct," asked the wizard leveling a scrutinizing eye at Tim? "Protection is good," Tim agreed. "Okay, shoot!" During the exchange Ben was quiet, painfully aware his big mouth had very nearly blown a chance at respect, as he understood it. "First, only let one person put the mask on you. Don't do it yourself. The mask can only be removed by the one that placed it on you. Do you understand that Tim?" "Why is that?" "The mask knows who put it on you. The mask will also make you and everyone see the person the mask makes you appear to be. Everyone except Ben and yourself will believe it as if you'd always been the person everyone perceives you to be. The mask will also recognize you as the person everyone else perceives you to be. The mask will not be able to understand that it's really Tim under the mask. If you put it on as Tim, then only someone the mask perceives at being Tim can take it back off again. This merely prevents the mask from becoming dislodged or accidentally taken off by someone else. That would be bad," The wizard finished. "Why?" The old man whimsically gestured and said, "The entire fabric of the universe might actually unravel destroying life throughout." Tim and Ben stood fearfully by, looked at each other and said in unison, "Really?" The wizard grinned, "No-- not really." The relief on their faces was plain to see. "But--" the wizard continued, "--if it could just be knocked off you'd be exposed as a fraud eventually. It's imperative that only Ben put the mask on you. If anyone but Ben puts it on you Tim, it could leave you permanently trapped within the perception of the person you become while in the mask. "That sounds scary," Tim said now holding the mask away from him at arms length. "It's fine, don't worry about it," dismissed the wizard. "You can't help but follow this rule. If Ben puts the mask on you, he'll be the only one that can take it off anyway. That's the safeguard." "Okay, any others?" "It can't be taken off in front of anyone else. You and Ben must be alone when it goes on or comes off. When you're wearing it, it simply won't come off if others are around. No one else can see the magic; the mask simply won't allow it. If Ben tries to put it on you when others are around, then the magic is drained out of it and it will never work again. This is a valuable mask. I want it to be in full working order when you bring it back." "Sounds easy enough, Ben puts it on me and then Ben takes it off. All this happens when we're totally alone." "Right, you got it," the wizard said happily. Tim took a deep breath, turned to Ben, and said, "You'd better pay the man sphincter lips." "Me?" Ben wailed. "It's your test. You want a date, you pay," Tim said still uneasy about the whole thing. "Oh, all right," Ben turned to the Wizard digging for his wallet, "--how much?" "Let's see if you get through the test, how's that? If you do and I let you have a date for the prom, you can pay then." "Gee thanks..." Ben turned to Tim, "You hear that? Try now, pay later." "Yeah, yeah--" Tim said motioning toward the door. He had no intention of putting the mask on. Tim's objective was to get Ben out of this store before something happened Tim couldn't control. If he could get Ben out of here, then he was sure that he could dodge that bullet easily. "This had better not make me look any more foolish than I already look or I'm going to shove this mask up your ass Ben. I swear to God--" Tim added for good measure. "Okay, Okay," Ben said. He reached out and shook the wizard's hand. "Thanks Mister. I promise, I'll remember every word you said." The wizard nodded and grinned, he then called out to Tim who was trying to leave with mask in hand, "Tim, you too. Oh and don't make promises you don't intend on keeping." Tim assumed this was in reference to his notion of blowing off the entire experience once he got out side. How the fuck does he do that? Rattled now that the old man might expose Tim's plan to refuse to let Ben put the mask on him, Tim moved even faster toward the door, putting distance between himself and the creepy old wizard, "Right, thanks," and with the tinkle of the bell over the door, Tim was gone. "I don't think your friend heard that last part Ben, make sure he understands not to make promises he can't fulfill." "Yeah, sure thing," Ben cried out as he hit the door and was gone. The Wizard watched as the door closed and rang the bell at the top. He chuckled to himself and, in a flash and a puff of smoke, returned to where he had come from. The two rode home in Ben's Mustang, with the top down. The late afternoon sun dappled their faces with fast moving patches of shadow and light as Ben drove toward the neighborhood where they both lived. Ben was clearly excited, if this worked, Ben would get his own mask and potentially, a date for the prom. Tim could also tell Ben was agitated. If things went according to the old man's plan, then once he put the mask on later, he (Tim) would become popular, good looking and charismatic, no longer the science geek of the 10th grade, at least that was the implication the 'Wizard' had given them. Ben's irritation stemmed from the fact that Tim would become Mr. Popular, Ben would miss his turn this time around. Tim sat quietly hoping the subject of what had happened to them at the mall would just blow over. The mask, the so-called wizard, had handed him sat in his lap. There was no bag, no receipt no proof of ownership one way or the other. They could just walk away with it if they wanted to... but why? There was no need to. The answer was easy for Tim, it pointed to a set up as he now believed this was. Tim regarded the mask again. It was not an uncommon thing, nothing more really than one might be able to pick up in a novelty or theatrical store. Its surface was smooth and glossy, the eyes were empty. He held it up to examine it and the mask felt as if it shifted slightly in his hands. Tim had looked at it carefully in the shop where they had gotten it. Now however, Tim noticed that there was something that was either different or something he had missed before. In the store, the mask seemed to be androgynous, smooth with little definition or facial personality. Tim was certain that the thing had no representation of lips in the store. Now however, the face of it had high cheek bone impressions, a soft brow, slender nose that flared gently to uniform nostrils. There where a pair of full, plump lips, sensual lips that curved upward into a soft almost feminine smile almost as if the model had just caught the faint hint of roses on the air or perhaps had just been graced with the sweet memory of distant love. Tim smiled at the face as though the mask's smile was meant for him, then blinked in confusion as a thought came to him. Not for me... but to be worn on me! Holy Shit, this is a girl's face! He cast the mask down on the seat between them startled, not only by its miraculous shift in appearance, but by the way it seemed to draw itself to him. "Hey Ben, this mask..." "What?" Ben asked. "It's a girl's face." Ben glanced over from the driver's seat, "Lemme see." Tim held up the mask. Ben made several glances at the mask which was plain and void of any level of personality as far as Ben could see; then said, "I don't see the resemblance." "What?" Tim asked surprised. Tim was also a bit startled at the idea of putting something on his face that would cause him to resemble a girl in any fashion. "Ben, this is a girl's face. Look at it." Ben did and shook his head. "I'm not putting it on." Tim's intentional ruse was now forgotten. Whatever was going on here was truly stranger than fiction. This latest development only added fuel to the fire of Tim's objections. Ben stewed for a moment; his fingers were bone white on the steering-wheel. As Ben relaxed, he finally said, "Fine, give it to me and we'll take it back. But I swear to God, the next time we find ourselves down at the river tossing rocks in it and wondering what the fuck we're doing there, don't bother to bitch about it to me. You'll already have your answer." Ben didn't turn around right away. He waited to allow Tim a moment to think about it. Tim held the mask up to his face the empty side toward his own face and looked though the eyes, being careful at the thought of the Wizard's warning not to actually put it on himself. From this angle it didn't quite look so feminine. "Okay. I'll try it, just once. I still think the whole thing is creepy man. Magic for fuck sake--" Ben responded. "It's like you said, it's probably bullshit anyway. But what if it's not? What if the old guy is for-real? Then we got dates... hot dates for the prom. No one will be able to look at us the same way ever again." "He's not right Ben, in more ways than one. This is about something else. Free magic, a test? I think the guy is scoping us for some other reason." "Like what?" "Ever hear of a dude named John Wayne Gacey?" Tim asked. "Oh..." "You know... He was a magician too," Tim added, "and a clown. He used to entertain at little kids birthday parties and shit. The whole time he was stackin' bodies up down in his crawl space." "Mannnnnn," Ben said seeming to think hard for the first time since this impossible opportunity had been presented to them. "Yeah," Tim answered. Neither one of them spoke much the rest of the way. Tim continued to stare into the eyes of the mask in his hand. If the old man was right, then Tim would be giving Ben all his trust to take the mask back off when Tim wanted him to. He had no reason to mistrust Ben. If this thing could make him more appealing and get a date to the prom, then what was the harm? It was just until tomorrow, not a long time to wait out of an entire lifetime. If I don't like it, I can just ask Ben to take it back off. I'll probably do just that before the test is over anyway. Magic my ass, I know there no such thing, right?