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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather.  This story is
the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or downloaded 
for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for anyone to 
download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as long as 
there is no intent to charge money or barter for the privilege of 
acquiring this material.

   (Copyright 2002, revisions c. 2007, R.C. Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather at hotmail dot com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

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PLAYING THE GAME

A Novel

by R.C. Mather




- 8 -

AT THE DRUG STORE
	


For the next three days, I biked over to the Wilkinson house and
took Davey and Kip to the park to work on their soccer skills. Every
day, they came tumbling out of the house to meet me. Then, the two of
them ran nonstop until I brought them back home an hour later. Lori
Wilkinson always invited me in afterwards to have some lemonade, and
we sat at her kitchen table while the boys ran upstairs to clean up
after soccer.

Each time I took them out, I could see improvement in their skills.
They still had the attention span of young boys, but they both loved
to play soccer, and they loved kicking the ball to each other. By the
third day, we were playing a game I called Heads-Up. The three of us
were in a moving, revolving triangle, each about twenty feet from
each other. We were constantly passing three soccer balls, first
clockwise, and then counterclockwise. The exercise kept them moving
(which they were prone to do anyway), and it helped to develop their
passing and trapping skills using both feet. By the end of the day,
they were both passing equally well with both the insides and
outsides of their left and right feet, an accomplishment that not
many kids their age could claim. It would give them a distinct
advantage in their games very shortly.

The three of us dribbled our soccer balls back to the house from the
park. One of my rules for the boys was that they couldn't pick up and
carry a soccer ball. They had to dribble it wherever they went,
except for crossing a street. They were running ahead of me, then
turning and dribbling back to circle behind me before racing ahead
again, using both feet to keep the ball moving. They were both
anxious to show their mom what they had been learning, and I was very
pleased with the way they had taken to the game with such enthusiasm.
When we got to their front lawn, they both left their soccer balls on
the grass as they raced each other, both trying to be the first to
tell Lori about their progress.

"Mom! Mom! Come out and see!"

"Come out, Mom, and we'll show you what Sean's been teaching us!"

They were shouting and jumping as they hit the front door. In just a
few seconds, each had one of Lori's hands and were both pulling her
out the door.

"Watch this, Mom!" shouted Davey. "Kip, go over there, and I'll pass
it to you!"

Kip ran across the yard, and Davey kicked a pass to him with his
right foot, and took off running at a right angle. Kip neatly stopped
the pass, turned and led Davey with a pass off his left foot. As soon
as the ball left his foot, Kip started running back to where Davey
had been, ready to receive the ball back from his brother. They wove
in and out of each other's passing lanes for a few minutes, all the
time shouting out directions to each other, proud to show off for
their mother. Lori stood on the front steps, watching her boys with a
big smile.

She clapped her hands as she said, "That's great, guys. I am really
impressed!"

She turned to me and said, "You've done a truly amazing job with
these ruffians, Sean. I can't thank you enough."

"Aw, shucks, ma'am," I said in my best Southern drawl. "It twern't
nothin'."

"Well, come on in, then, sheriff, and pull up a barstool while I
serve you up some sarsaparilla," she countered as she opened the door
and led us into the house.

The boys ran and jumped up the stairs to get cleaned up while Lori
and I went into the kitchen for some lemonade. She set out a plate of
cookies and filled four glasses with ice, and poured freshly made
lemonade into two of them. She handed me a glass, and tipped hers
toward mine in a silent toast before taking a sip. She sat down next
to me at the table.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Sean?" she asked after a moment.

"Ummm... no, not really," I replied.

"I guess you know Molly O'Toole, don't you," she said almost to
herself.

"Yes, I know her and her twin brother. She was telling me that she
baby-sits for you sometimes."

"The boys just love her," she said. "She doesn't seem to mind at all
when they get rambunctious on her. She handles them beautifully."

"I know I've mentioned it before, Lori, but it's really true. Davey
and Kip are really good kids. There's no reason not to like them."

She sighed and said, "I know, but I worry anyway." She reached for
her purse on the counter and opened it. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, Sean. I
forgot to stop at the bank to get some money. Can you stop by later
tonight? Or do you have plans?"

My only plan was to see if Kayla could get away to fool around. I
figured I could stop by here first, so I said, "Sure, I can stop by.
Or, if you want, you can just pay me tomorrow."

"Are you sure that's okay, Sean? I'd be just as happy if I could pay
you tonight."

"No, tomorrow's fine," I said. I got up to go. "But thanks, I
appreciate it. I'll see you tomorrow, Lori."



* * * * * * * * * *

	

"Sean! Hey, Sean, wait up!" Josh O'Toole was jogging across the park
toward me as I rode by.

I stopped and waited for him to catch up. "Hey, Josh, what's up?"

"Not much," he said, trying to catch his breath. "I was thinking
about going over to Lehigh Drugs. Come on along with me, won't you?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not? What are you getting there?"

He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Condoms," he said.
"Shayna wants to do it with me, but I've got to get condoms first."

"Wow," I said. "That's a big step, dude. When are you going to do
her?"

"That I don't know yet," he said. "We were fooling around last night
over at my house, and she says she thinks she's ready. I tell you,
Sean, I nearly popped a nut on her right then and there, when she
said that."

"Yeah, I'll bet," I said. "Then what happened?"

"Well, we're laying there on the floor, and I've got my hand down
her pants doing the stinkfinger thing, and she comes out with this
right as I'm trying to get her off, you know? And she's getting all
squirmy and all, and she starts to cum all over my hand, and then she
goes, 'Yes, yes, I'm ready', and starts calling my name, you know?
Well, I thought she meant right then she was ready, so I tried to get
her clothes off, but she pushes me away and won't even get me off or
nothing, you know? She's really in a huff now, thinks I'm just trying
to do her when she's, what did she call it? Oh, yeah, 'In A Weak
Moment', she called it. I could almost hear the capital letters on
the words, you know? Anyway, she says nothing doing, until I get us
some protection, and until I do, it's no-go for anything. No
frenching, no tittie, no nothing until I can prove to her that I
really love her or something, I guess."

"So, you're going down to the drug store to get some rubbers, and
that's supposed to prove that you love her? That doesn't make any
sense, Josh."

"Aw, hell, don't I know it. She's a chick, man, and that means she's
confusing. All I know is that my first mission is to pick up some
condoms for the next time she says she's ready. And who knows when
that will be, you know what I mean? Anyway, the next time she says
she's ready, I'll be ready."

"That's really fucked up, Josh."

"Hey, it's not my logic, dude. You want to come along? I don't want
to stand in that cashier line by myself holding a box of Trojans, you
know? I could use the moral support. How about it?"

I was thinking about Kayla, and how we would never be able to do it
ourselves without protection, and this was a perfect opportunity to
supply myself. I, too, had not been looking forward to purchasing my
first box of condoms by myself. Now, with Josh along, I wouldn't have
to.

"Yeah, okay, I'll come along. Why not?" I said.

We had to go past my house to get to the drug store, so we dropped
off my bike on the way and walked over a couple of blocks to the
shopping center. When we got there, we were confronted with a
dizzying array of prophylactics in the back of the store.

"Shit, man, what do we get?" complained Josh. "I just thought we'd
be able to come in here, grab a boxful, and take off again. Why are
there so many choices?"

"I don't know. Lubricated, non-lubricated, ribbed, ultra-thin...
what's this? Flavored condoms?!?" I picked up a box.

A grown-up's voice from behind us startled us, and I dropped the box
of condoms I had been holding.

"Hello, boys, can I help you with anything?"

I spun around in surprise, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. It was
Mr. Lehigh, the owner of the drug store, and Jake and Kayla's father.

"Why, hello, Sean, I didn't expect it to be you here in the birth
control aisle. Hello, Josh. Well, boys, I take it you are
anticipating some adventures, right?" he said with a smile.

"Well... umm... just trying to be prepared, Mr. Lehigh," stammered
Josh lamely. His face was bright red with embarrassment.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Josh, being here. It's a wise young
man, these days, who thinks first about these things, instead of
getting carried away in the moment, if you know what I mean," said
Mr. Lehigh. "Now," he continued, "since this seems to be your first
purchase, let me help you out. Try a box of these and see how you
like them." He took a box of standard, lubricated condoms off the
shelf and handed them to Josh. "You can always experiment with other
options the next time around, but these are good, basic items that
will give you the protection you want while you learn how to use and
enjoy them."

"Uh, that's great, Mr. Lehigh. Thanks a lot for your help," said 
Josh.

"You're welcome, Josh. Any other questions, boys? Sean, are you
getting some of these, too?"

"Ummm... yeah, maybe I will. Thanks, Mr. Lehigh," I said.

He handed me a twelve-pack like Josh's, then casually waved and
moved off to wander the aisles, looking for customers with questions.
I watched him walk away, and couldn't help wondering if he would have
been so helpful if he had known that it was his own thirteen-year-old
daughter who would be helping me to use these condoms up. Somehow, I
didn't think so.

Josh and I paid for our purchases and walked out the door, relieved
to be hiding our stuff in plain brown paper bags, just in case we ran
into any more parents we knew.





(Continued in Chapter 9)


  
PTG08