all; I was still very naive and wanted to stay the way we were. There wasn’t very much “truth” involved in Truth or Dare; it was mostly “dare.” Their voices were deeper and their muscles were bigger and they were much more aggressive about everything. They were intent on talking me into playing doctor all the time, examining me and wanting me to examine them. Once in awhile I gave in and let them peek into my pants. They would try to bribe me with gum. Gum? What about cash? I couldn’t imagine what was so exciting to look at down there. I felt like I hardly knew them anymore.
Leonard was much worse than Dale when it came to the touchy-feely department. In fact, Dale was always a perfect gentleman. He was very gallant for a twelve-year-old. Leonard, on the other hand, was forever trying to persuade me to go into his parents’ dark and creepy basement so he could try to kiss me. His bedroom was conveniently down there and I remember it was always cold and uncomfortable. I had no idea what he was trying to do, I just knew it was making me embarrassed and sick to my stomach. I’d lie there and stare up at the faint bit of light coming through the curtained window and yearn to be outside playing. I wanted to be anywhere but there with him. He had one tooth that poked out of the side of his mouth slightly. When he tried to kiss me I could always feel it touching my lips, which were very tightly pursed, I might add. I wondered what had happened to my pal? Where had the old Leonard gone? Hormones had happened, that’s what.
I don’t know why I didn’t just push him off me and run home and tell my mother what he was up to. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t really have anybody to confide in. It certainly would not have been either of my brothers. Patrick was five years younger than I was and Duray was hardly ever home. Duray and I certainly never sat down and had long, intimate conversations.
It felt like Duray was disappearing before our very eyes. To say he was becoming estranged from the entire family was an understatement. He was secretive and kept to himself when he was around. He smoked pot and drank my dad’s beer and listened to his music and the rest of his life was a mystery to me. (My mom told me later she suspected his pot smoking, but she wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it.)
I thought I’d keep the whole Leonard ordeal a secret. I thought that was the best option. I regret that now. I should have said something to someone. I was just very ashamed. Dale probably would have popped him one for me if I had told him. I would walk home from Leonard’s house after one of those encounters feeling like I was the worst person in the world, that it was my fault. I think that’s a pretty common feeling. We all have similar tales to tell. The shame somehow silences you. Growing up is hard. The person I am now would have taken Leonard by the throat and twisted his little balls off. But when I look back I feel nothing but compassion for both of us, Leonard and me. I often wonder what he recalls of it? Maybe his recollections are different from mine.
It was all so bizarre, and trust me, there was nothing even remotely sexual about any of it for me. I truly thought that Leonard had gone completely bonkers. I thought he had lost every single one of his marbles. I had no clue what was so exciting for Leonard. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. He probably thought, what the heck is happening to me and why do I feel like humping fence posts,pumpkins and old cars? He never forced me to do anything. I was just too stupid and shocked to say “stop it!” I suppose that’s why they call it learning.
The hardest part was that I knew there would be no going back to who we had been. The wonderful, innocent days of running through the flower-filled meadows, skimming stones in Douglas’s Pond and flying kites and riding snowmobiles at midnight were behind us forever. I don’t think we fully realized that at the time.
Leonard was much worse than Dale when it came to the touchy-feely department. In fact, Dale was always a perfect gentleman. He was very gallant for a twelve-year-old. Leonard, on the other hand, was forever trying to persuade me to go into his parents’ dark and creepy basement so he could try to kiss me. His bedroom was conveniently down there and I remember it was always cold and uncomfortable. I had no idea what he was trying to do, I just knew it was making me embarrassed and sick to my stomach. I’d lie there and stare up at the faint bit of light coming through the curtained window and yearn to be outside playing. I wanted to be anywhere but there with him. He had one tooth that poked out of the side of his mouth slightly. When he tried to kiss me I could always feel it touching my lips, which were very tightly pursed, I might add. I wondered what had happened to my pal? Where had the old Leonard gone? Hormones had happened, that’s what.
I don’t know why I didn’t just push him off me and run home and tell my mother what he was up to. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t really have anybody to confide in. It certainly would not have been either of my brothers. Patrick was five years younger than I was and Duray was hardly ever home. Duray and I certainly never sat down and had long, intimate conversations.
It felt like Duray was disappearing before our very eyes. To say he was becoming estranged from the entire family was an understatement. He was secretive and kept to himself when he was around. He smoked pot and drank my dad’s beer and listened to his music and the rest of his life was a mystery to me. (My mom told me later she suspected his pot smoking, but she wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it.)
I thought I’d keep the whole Leonard ordeal a secret. I thought that was the best option. I regret that now. I should have said something to someone. I was just very ashamed. Dale probably would have popped him one for me if I had told him. I would walk home from Leonard’s house after one of those encounters feeling like I was the worst person in the world, that it was my fault. I think that’s a pretty common feeling. We all have similar tales to tell. The shame somehow silences you. Growing up is hard. The person I am now would have taken Leonard by the throat and twisted his little balls off. But when I look back I feel nothing but compassion for both of us, Leonard and me. I often wonder what he recalls of it? Maybe his recollections are different from mine.
It was all so bizarre, and trust me, there was nothing even remotely sexual about any of it for me. I truly thought that Leonard had gone completely bonkers. I thought he had lost every single one of his marbles. I had no clue what was so exciting for Leonard. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. He probably thought, what the heck is happening to me and why do I feel like humping fence posts,pumpkins and old cars? He never forced me to do anything. I was just too stupid and shocked to say “stop it!” I suppose that’s why they call it learning.
The hardest part was that I knew there would be no going back to who we had been. The wonderful, innocent days of running through the flower-filled meadows, skimming stones in Douglas’s Pond and flying kites and riding snowmobiles at midnight were behind us forever. I don’t think we fully realized that at the time.
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