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The Resurrection of Ferris Who |
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By Margo Perry
On a stormy Easter Eve, Ferris sat in Will’s purring purple sports car listening to Arcade Fire and the rain beating on the roof.
“I’d be pissed if my birthday was on a holiday. Too much attention away from me, but then, I’m a selfish prick!”
“Yeah, you’re so selfish that you’ve driven twenty miles out of your way to deliver me to my humble house.”
“Isn’t the expression my ‘humble home’? Isn’t ‘humble house’ more than a little cynical?”
“I haven’t had a home since I was eleven and Dad marched off to war, never to return. Instead, George, my Dad’s supposed buddy, blew in three months later. He arrived in time for dinner and screwed my Mom before the dishes were stashed. She didn’t even know him!”
“You never told me any of this stuff. Do you get on with him at least?”
“I hate the guy. I think my Dad must have told him about my Mom’s insurance. It wasn’t a fortune, once she paid off the mortgage, but it was enough to send me to boarding school and then to college, far away from them. It really pissed me off. My Mom teaches teenagers all day and he lounges around drinking, waiting for the muse to settle him into his war memoirs. Sorry to dump all this on you.”
“What’s a roommate for but to have a clue. Why don’t we skip this joint? I’m headed for The Burger Bar Motel to eat, drink, be merry and hopefully get laid; all the things a lad like you should be doing on his eighteenth. We’ll call your Mom and tell her that you’ll see her later. I’m going to tell my parents that they’ll see me tomorrow.”
“I would, but my Mom’s made these big birthday plans. I get the feeling that, outside of work, she doesn’t get out much and I don’t want to disappoint her. Come with us. I don’t want to spend my birthday alone with my mother and that guy. Please! You can catch the bar after dinner. Please!”
“Fuck man, I can’t stand your hangdog face. You win, but don’t expect me to hang around for coffee and dessert. I’ve got booty to call, got to put my tiny foot forward. I’m lucky my family has buckets of money because all of our men are of miniature stature and feet. You’re the lucky one with your height and brains. Getting laid for you is a matter of choice. For me it’s a test that I often fail. I truly envy you, Ferris.”
“There’s nothing to envy, Will. You know the girls are all over your five foot self. They hardly notice me.”
I could have added that I was a pathetic virgin whose only hope for the holidays was being seduced by my sister’s friend, Katy. They’re both models and Sarah brought her home for the first time when I was twelve. With her luscious lips, riot of raven curls and Elizabeth Taylor eyes, she was the first big-breasted supermodel and, on first sight, she made my tiny cock hard and leaky. Frankly, I masturbated her visit away and she became my favourite fantasy.
She came home with Sarah often after that, always teasing me, forever filling my puberty with rich Katy fantasies. I followed the two of them around like their puppy. On my sixteenth birthday, Katy promised that she’d relieve me of my cherry on my eighteenth and that’s today.
A wee fraction of me had hope; but mostly I was ready for disappointment as usual.
“Mother Nature’s on our side,” Will said.
The rain had stopped. He unlocked the doors and we got out.
“Gorgeous vehicle,” I said, running my hand over the smooth contours of its hood, certain that I’d never own a beauty like that in my lifetime.
“Gift from my parents two years ago, on my eighteenth birthday when I graduated from high school. You’re eighteen today and we’re in the same year. You’re way ahead of the pack and you’re always working. You really should invest in some fun. You deserve it! I should give you the fucking car.”
“Come on,” I said, starting across the yard.
The house was dark. George turned out lights whenever he left a room to save money, but bought Scotch every day to fuel his creativity.
“That’s my sister’s room,” I said at the top of the stairs. “Mine’s down there, I’ll just drop off my bag and find Mom.”
We went to my room and I dropped my suitcase on the bed. I hated that my Mom’s room was next to mine; that the rooms were so small and the walls so thin.
“It’s Ferris’ eighteenth birthday and we’re taking him to dinner, so don’t start, Georgie!”
“Won’t Sarah be home tomorrow?”
“Later tonight, but what has that got to do with Ferris’ birthday dinner?”
“We’ll all be together for Easter. Tonight, you need to take care of me, your husband.”
“I’ll take care of you later. It’s terrible the way you favour Sarah . . .”
I ain't had no lovin' Since April, January, June or July.
Will had walked to the far window that overlooked our tiny yard, but he couldn’t get away from George’s rhapsody. George’s voice was rough with booze and panting with sexual intent. Both Will and I seemed rooted to our spots.
“Come on, baby. Ferris can look after himself. He’s a big old college boy. Come on. Open up. That’s it, Baby.”
My mother’s moans were so soft and breathless that my head split into a pounding migraine and I sweat with humiliation and hatred.
“Let’s go,” Will said, grabbing my arm as he rushed past me.
By now, my mother’s capitulation was complete. The squeaking bed mambo ushered us out of the room and we didn’t talk or stop moving until we were back in Will’s car. Even then, we didn’t talk, we just drove.
At the motel, I watched Will run to the office and register. He was spry and fast moving, always thinking ahead. Through the window I could see him gesticulating wildly and I laughed out loud. He was probably asking for something outrageous, just to see if he could get it.
“What was all that about?” I asked when he got back.
“The manager wanted me to take one of the rooms in the back and I told him that my car was already parked in front of the room I wanted. I was just asking for the key.” Will dangled it in front of me. “By the way, there’s the taxi stand. I’ll be unfit for driving, just as soon as I can manage it.”
“Thanks, but how do you pull this shit off? As soon as he told me to drive to the back, I would have.”
“Not in this car, you wouldn’t. I want this baby where there’s a lot of light and everybody can see it. Especially management and I told him so.”
“See what I mean?”
“You think about things too much. I’m mindless. I just do. Now, no more serious talk until we’ve imbibed a new perspective.”
“If anybody but you had heard my mother and stepfather, I would have died.”
“Ferris, why do you have to be so dramatic? Probably part of Your Royal Nerdness or something, but you’ve got to get over it. Those people are not you, my man. You can’t take their pains or their profits.”
We’d reached The Burger Bar where excited men, their voices roaring and then falling back, had all eyes trained on a soccer game. The Grill section was western themed and full of nooks and crannies. It was date night for many and hope night for the rest.
Will took it all in and then whispered a long something in the hostess’ ear. She nodded gravely and then led us toward the furthest table in a booth meant for six. Will trotted beside her, looking up, talking and laughing; she gazing down at him like a very close friend, if you know what I mean. They were Mutt and Jeff, the long and the short of it.
I couldn’t blame Will for his obvious interest. There was something about her that fascinated. Despite her jeans and cowboy boots, there was nothing western about her. She was tall and erect, her beauty accentuated by her classic bun and the pearl studs in her ears. I wondered who she was and why she was working here at the Burger Bar. I figured her story might make me sad.
“I’ll send your waitress and drinks right over,” she said, laying two menus on the table.
“Thank you. This is perfect. You’re wonderful,” Will said, dripping with more charm than I’d ever seen him exercise.
I sat back. I liked this place away from my house. We could look out at the action without being bombarded by blaring, glaring sights and sounds. The hostess was wending her way through tables with a ballerina’s grace.
“That woman is too beautiful, too soulful for this place. What do you think Will?”
Will looked at me like I’d said something important and then leapt from the table and charged toward the woman. I had a minute of panic. I should have kept my mouth shut. What was Will doing? He caught up to her and walked her to her station, talking all the way. I watched them become shadows behind a partition. I watched them kiss for so long, so intricately, so thoroughly that my cock rose up in applause. How the hell had he managed that?
In the meantime, the waitress arrived with a pitcher of beer.
“Ferris Barnes! I hadn’t seen you or your sister for years and here you are, both on the same night!”
“My sister was here?”
“Yes, she and her friend Katy. What a stunning pair of ladies.”
I thought I would faint.
“My sister and Katy were here? When?”
“About half an hour ago. They had a salad and a glass of wine and took off.”
Katy was here.
“I guess you want to wait for your friend?” the waitress prompted. It was a busy night with tips to be made. She drummed her green-lacquered nails impatiently on her tray.
Katy is here. Katy is here!
I watched the waitress turn and hustle across the floor, as Will danced his way back. He plopped down and stared at me.
“I know what happened to me, but what happened to you? You’re looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It’s my sister. She was here.”
“You’re beet red and goofy grinned and if your sister is making you look like that, I’m beginning to worry about your family.”
Will looked absolutely disturbed. It was time to spill.
“No, it’s Katy.”
“The model Katy, your sister’s friend?”
“Yes.”
Will poured two beers. “Speak!”
I’d never talked about Katy to another living soul and when I started I couldn’t stop. Will laughed out loud when I told him I was a virgin, but he looked amazed when I explained that Katy had threatened to relieve me of my virginity, if I still had it, on the occasion of my eighteenth birthday. And she was here. On this day!
“Then forget about dinner with me. Off you go.”
“I will, but not so quick, Mr. Will! There’s the matter of our hostess and your tongue down her throat!”
Will didn’t speak easily, which was a first in our relationship. “From the minute I laid eyes on that woman, I’ve been infatuated. I can’t describe it. I’m a goner.”
“Holy shit! That’s the way I feel about Katy, but she’s been teasing me for years. You’ve just met this woman. What did you say to her?”
“I told her what I told you and she admitted she felt it too. She’s a dancer. Her ballet company had to file for bankruptcy and this is the first job that was offered. We’re getting together after her shift.”
“I hope I’ll be as lucky as you. I’m so afraid that Katy was just teasing her friend’s kid brother. She’s a world class model. How could she be interested in me?”
“Maybe it’s pity. I don’t know,” Will said, “but if you fuck this up, I’ll kill you. By the way, I’m sorry about that stuff at your house. Don’t worry about it and if you ever want to come home with me for the holidays, any holiday, consider yourself invited. And again, happy birthday, Bro’. Hope you’ll have great stories to tell.”
We hugged, wished each other luck, and I gave our hostess my sweetest and best smile on the way out.
There were two taxis waiting and I was home within fifteen minutes. The house looked gloomily quiet. There were no lights, no laughter, no signs of birthday spirit. My heart sank. A deep depression was on its way. I felt so tired, so beat down that I wanted to die.
At the top of the stairs, I turned right and went down to Sarah’s room hoping for some action. Not a sound to be heard. I opened the door and peeped in. Sarah and Katy had gone to bed.
I’d convinced myself that they’d come home early just to celebrate my birthday. Not! And I still had three miserable hours before this day was over.
Hello world, it’s Ferris’ birthday! Ferris Who? Ferris you You who?
I knew I’d end up listening to sad songs and crying my birthday away, but that was okay. I was used to that, too. I knew how to feel sorry for myself. I went back past my mother’s room. I could hear their television and their laughter. I felt so lonely. I contemplated going back to the Burger, but Will had his own plans. I’ll think about Katy and masturbate; that would save me, at least for one night.
I opened my door, close to tears. A huge red envelope lay on my pillow. I opened it and found a card that read: Happy birthday. Meet me at Hyding Hall and hurry. It was signed by Katy. I fell onto the bed and devoured the card again. On the front was a picture of a boy with a dog, the collie I told her my Dad was going to buy for me when he came back, the dog I never got. And Katy had remembered!
What a difference a card makes. Hurry.
I raced from the room, closing the door behind me.
My Dad was almost finished transforming an old fruit cellar into the study he’d always wanted. Despite the small window, my Mom hated it, said it was too dark and dingy and, once Dad was gone, she forgot it existed. It became Sarah and my secret place and we called it Hyding Hall because we lived on Hyden Street and it was our hiding place. We thought we were clever. And the Hall part came from the unfinished narrow corridor leading from the exterior door to the room.
In the yard, I took a deep breath before dashing around the corner to the oft forgotten door. It squeaked open and I went in, bending low along the hallway that wasn’t half as long as I remembered and much more cramped.
It was already good to stand up, but what I saw took my breath away. The room had been carpeted and furnished, just as my Dad had dreamed it. A desk sat in one corner, a couch, a comfy armchair, television and a small fridge; all the amenities of a bachelor pad. A plaque over the entrance read: Ferris’ World, built by his Dad.
I stared. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t crying on the outside. On one wall were my framed report cards, a running display of A’s. On another was the last picture taken of my Dad and his line brothers, grinning outside Freddy’s Pancake House.
My Dad loved to cook. He’d gone into the army to serve under a real chef, nurturing plans for chef school and his own restaurant.
After the funeral, a broken sergeant explained that they’d been walking home from the Officer’s Mess after dinner service. That my Dad had run to play ball with a kid. He was laughing when he kicked the ball that turned out to be a bomb, laughing when he flew into a million pieces. He was my Dad’s friend. We cried together. I felt him like I didn’t feel George. I don’t think George was my Dad’s friend. I don’t think he knew my Dad well at all.
“Happy birthday, Ferris. You like?”
Her voice came out of the shadows. Katy Margolies, plus sized supermodel, dressed in jeans and a white off the shoulder peasant blouse. Her enormous breasts hung low, subtly outlined beneath the soft cotton fabric. Katy Margolies in a long ponytail, her violet eyes staring through me, her lips puckering and devilish. Katy Margolies standing tall in Ferris’ World. I looked around at books that had been carted from my room and were now neatly stacked in my new bookcase.
“I love it!”
Katy ran over and gave me a big bear hug.
“Are you still a virgin?” she whispered in my ear.
“Yes,” I croaked.
“Ever come close?”
“I took a girl to the movies last time I was home. She let me touch her tits and . . . .”
“What was she wearing?”
“A skirt and blouse.”
Katy led me to the couch, pushed me down gently and disappeared into the bathroom. I remembered that it had a shower, but no tub, a toilet, but no basin. I kept thinking that if a psychiatrist had a go at me now, he’d lock me up and throw away the key. Man, I was so horny, so out of my mind deliriously happy, that all I could wish was that Katy not ask me to do anything criminal.
“How’s this?” Katy asked.
She was wearing a short denim skirt and scooped necked T-shirt. Her cleavage rolled on forever and her tits hang low and heavy. She flipped on the TV and a rerun of one of my favourite movies, To Kill A Mockingbird, flickered onto the screen.
“Where was she sitting?”
I indicated my left and Katy slipped onto the couch.
“Do to me what you did to her,” Katy invited.
My hands were shaking as I slipped my arm around her. She didn’t sit there like Marilyn – that was her name – had done. Katy snuggled into me pressing her huge soft breasts against my arm. They spilled onto my chest and belly.
“Did you kiss her?”
Katy looked at me, her eyes all liquid and sexy, and I kissed her. Her lips were soft, her tongue a moving feast and I came in my pants, in a rush of heavenly bliss and chagrin.
“Don’t worry,” she said, cuddling my red, humiliated face against her welcoming soft and spongy boobs.
“We don’t need these,” she said, helping me out of my soiled jeans and undies. “We do need this,” she said, unfolding the couch which turned into a comfy double bed.
“When did you do all this?”
“Sarah and I have been coming up when we could, doing this and that. We figured it was your turn. Go check out the bathroom.”
It was finished. New tiles, basin, mirror and towel racks. For the first time in years, I could feel my father’s presence and it flooded me with hope that life could be different after all.
“Nobody’s done anything like this for me . . .”
“. . . since your Dad died,” Katy finished the sentence for me. “Sarah’s told me how hard it’s been for you. She really feels guilty about leaving to take that modelling job in Paris, so soon after George moved in. She hated leaving you in that poisonous atmosphere.”
“Nothing she could do.”
“Well, it’s your time now. Look at that banner and believe!”
Rise up! This is your new day!
Our college flag and motto flew proudly beneath a picture of our original family: Mom, Dad, Sarah and myself. All of a sudden, as embarrassing as it was, I couldn’t stop the tears. Katy held me and I cried and cried. I remember feeling like I was melting into her.
I don’t know what all happened that night. It’s a kaleidoscope of pleasure that can only be felt. I don’t know how many times I came. I remember her squeezing my balls, pumping and sucking my cock, all at the same time. I remember the feel of her tongue like she was painting my shaft with long steady strokes and then licking the rim with short light flicks, until I came again. I remember her burying me deep inside her cleavage and knowing that I’d die happy there. I remember her teaching me how to kiss her pussy and becoming real good at it. I remember coming with her, when there was hardly any cum left to come.
I told her the story of my life in bits and starts. She described glamorous foreign countries that I wanted to see. She promised to take me there, when I finished school and was ready.
I remember learning a woman’s body and she learning mine. I remember a night of loving and being loved like none I could have imagined. I lost time and didn’t realize it until the sun came up and I was a puddle of love at Katy Margolies’ feet.
She left for Sarah’s room in the light of early dawn. I lay there, in my first pad, feeling all the world like Little Lord Fauntleroy. I could feel Katy in the room. I could smell Katy on my skin. I had finally become king of all I surveyed.
Sarah and Katy insisted on cooking dinner for the family. They served wines I’d never heard of for reasons I didn’t care about. For me, all water had turned into wine. I was in love and lust. I was born again.
“I have something to say,” Sarah said after dinner, as George drew on the cigar she’d offered him. “I don’t know how well you’ve read Dad’s will, mother, but while you have a lifelong interest in this house, it’s been passed down to Ferris and myself. And George, I mean Ferris Barnes, not Ferris Who.”
“I’m sure nobody in this house has ever called Ferris any such thing,” mother said.
“George has,” Sarah continued, “and all I’m asking is that he not do it again.”
“I don’t know where you get . . .”
“These crazy ideas, George?” Sarah was on a roll. “It’s Ferris’ birthday. Where’s the cake? Where’s the party? What did you get him when he graduated high school, top of his class with all A’s?”
George just stared at her, a real stupid look on his face.
It was all too fucking much. Sarah’s words were swirling around in my head and I felt like I was being crowned king of something. She shook her finger at George and Mom, eyes flashing, head bobbing like a mad soapbox speaker in Hyde Park. George looked like he could kill, but had no weapon, and Mom looked like she’d just learned something disagreeable. Katy just kept squeezing my hand under the table.
As for me, as much as I was enjoying the drama, I couldn’t wait for Katy to take me downstairs and have her way with me again. She tells me I’m quite the stud.
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