It happened again last night. I was being Spike again.
She was trapped in a place with a lot of books: maybe a library, more like a high-end bookstore, with a teenaged boy. Instead of calling the cops, she was locked in someone's private office -- it wasn't too bad, considering that this was the private office of a book dealer. There was a bathroom adjoining, and a couple of couches to lie on.
Kid: "I'm gay."
Spike: That's nice.
A long silence
Kid: I mean it. I...we...won't have sex.
Spike: OK by me. Being gay never stopped anyone from having sex if they felt like it. Lot of gay men have sex with women. But...If you don't feel like having sex, by all means let's not have sex.
"I mean, I don't want you to feel insulted."
"Go ahead. Not have sex. Masturbate if you want. I feel like taking down one of those books. "
"You can't. We're under arrest."
"Sure. And we can't be in much more trouble than we are already."
"They could keep my pills from me."
"You're on pills?"
"Half a dozen. Adderall, then something to deal with the side effects, then...I'm a genius. You don't take any pills?"
Another long silence.
"I like this book...It's The Bumper Book by Watty Piper. I'm going to read it."
"No problem. Then they have the Shaving of Shagpat. Haven't seen that outside of Yale Library."
"Really. Don't look at it."
"You're a junkie."
"No. I really need my meds."
"I really go crazy."
"I go back to the hospital."
"I need to get into a good school. And if I don't.."
I lay back with the Bumper Book. I read it from start to finish. Then...I started in on the Shaving. I had a hankering to open our door, and look at one of the art books just outside, but didn't.
Five o'clock. Then six. People came in to give the Kid his meds, to hold his hand, to talk about the experience. I tried to talk to them, to make them understand that I was trying to take in the experience we just had had, but he was more important...I woke up.