"No."
"The tooth fairy?"
"No."
"That's a start." She sighed. "Geezus Pete, no wonder you're a walking bowl of spaghetti." At the tree line between her yard and the cemetery Shannie put an arm around me. My knees weakened. "Did you ask your dad?"
"No," I lied.
"Why not?"
"I'm too embarrassed," I blushed.
"You're too embarrassed to ask your own father?"
"I don't know," I answered miserably.
"Why don't you try asking him?"
"Why are you such a pest?"
"Hey, you brought it up," she said.
"Just drop it," I mumbled.
"What do you think he would say?"
"I don't know."
"Yes you do."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do," Shannie insisted.
"No I don't."
"YES YOU DO!"
"He'd told me to go ask your mother," I blurted out.
"My mother? What does my mother have to do with it?"
"No. Not your mother, my mother. Like he told me to ask your mother, meaning my mother, you see what I mean."
"Your folks are royally screwed."
"Tell me about it."
"Why don't you bug him?" she asked.
"Like you bug me?"
"Yeah. Like I bug you," Shannie said.
"Shannie Bug, Shannie Bug, drag your ass across a rug," I chided.
"Anywho," she said hoping onto a swing. "You did ask. And what Just James wants Just James gets." I hopped on the swing next to her and as I pumped my legs to catch up, Shannie told me about the birds and the bees.
There were times when Shannie spoke that I had no idea what she was talking about. I would tune out and listen to the rhythm of her voice. It was soothing, almost maternal, more so than my mother's voice -which was petty, trite, and aggravating. This was one of those occasions I listened to the rhythm, until she mentioned an erection.
"… which leads to a reptile dysfunction."
"What? What's a reptile dysfunction have to do with anything?" I asked.
"Silly James," she laughed. "Erectile dysfunction."
"What's an erectile dysfunction," I asked.
"You never had one?"
I stopped pumping my legs and let the swing slow. "How would I know I never had one if I don't know what it is?"