There
were five of them altogether, they were boys of a certain age. They shoved each
other, called each other names.
The
oldest boy was sixteen, the youngest just turned thirteen. They called each
other douchebag. It didn’t mean
anything.
They
lined up like at the barbershop. They lined up like at the fair. They shuffled
their feet like they were waiting to go on a ride.
The
first one, the oldest one, leaned against a tree. A boy who was still in line
called out, how was it.
They
laughed, and shoved each other. Called each other names. A small hand unzipped
a canvas flap.
The zipper made a purring sound. The next one went inside. The last one, the
youngest, dug his toe into the dirt.
The
others called him pussy. They called
him queer and homo. He fake-spit. The last boy went inside.
They
laughed and shoved each other. They snorted and yelled Sow. They yelled Soo-ee, and
walked away like they had been on a carnival ride.
A small hand closed the tent flap. Bitten nails with glitter polish.
They
were boys of a certain age.
It
didn’t mean anything.