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From: mmtwassel@aol.com (mat twassel)
Subject: {ASSM} P2C:  Mat Twassel: Mecca
Date: Sun, 24 Jun 2001 21:10:04 -0400
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Mecca
by Mat Twassel
==============


It is the new millennium at the Mecca. Four 
thousand guests dance in the six splendid ball 
rooms, dine in the three world class restaurants 
and six cozy cafes, gamble in the seven lucky 
casinos, golf on the 18 hole championship course, 
shop in the countless elegant boutiques, 
contemplate evocative artworks in the museum and 
galleries, and when they have had enough of all 
that, they retire to twenty-five hundred opulent 
suites and make passionate love.  Mecca is the 
modern paradise, rising precisely 502 feet into the 
new century's star-filled sky.  In the year of our 
Lord, 2001, Mecca is worth, according to 
conservative estimates, two point five billion 
dollars.

                     ~~~

Thirty years ago this was desert, a patch of 
scruffy land abutting old Route 11 and County T.  
Almost every morning,  Jeff Otterfoot rode his 
motorcycle across it, a shortcut to the high 
school, and often he paid the price, a ten dollar 
fine for trespass.

"Pig," he would say to Officer Cartwright with a 
half-smile.  "You know I could outrun you easy."

"Maybe so," Cartwright would reply as he'd hand 
over the citation. "But I'd know where to find you.  
Why don't you just take the proper roads like 
you're supposed to?"

"And be late for school? I get  detention and 
Jenny'd have to take the bus. You know how she 
hates to take the bus.  She'd ..."

"She'd wait for you.  Just like she always waits 
for you.  I don't know why.  Now get on to school."

"Pig," Jeff would mutter under the rev of his 
engine.


"I swear I'm going to buy that property," Jeff told 
Jenny Cartwright the evening after one such 
episode.  Jeff had turned around on the Harley's 
seat so he was facing Jenny.  They were at the end 
of the little road that led up to her dad's place. 
In the distance Jeff could see the cruiser parked 
next to the house.  "I'm going to save up and I'm 
going to buy that land, you just wait and see, and 
then what would your dad do for fun?"

"You've been saying that all year," Jenny said.

"Yeah, but this time I mean it.  It's two hundred 
dollars.  I'm almost halfway there. Another couple-
three weeks ought to do it.  Then I'd like to see 
the look on his face."

"Another three weeks and we graduate," Jenny 
reminded him. "Then you're off to Viet Nam and I'm 
I don't know where.  Anyway, you could get there a 
lot quicker without all the ten dollar tickets.  
You want me to ask him to lay off you?"

"Hell, no," Jeff answered. "Sometimes a man's just 
got to take some risks."

"Yeah, right," Jenny said. "Give me one more kiss, 
then ride me down home.  Unless you want to risk 
kissing me in front of my pa."

"Is there a fine for that?" Jeff asked. "Anyway, he 
knows we kiss.  He probably knows we do more than 
that."

"In your dreams," Jenny said, and before Jeff could 
reply she had her arms around him and her tongue in 
his mouth.  The kiss lasted a long time.

"Nice dreams, I'll bet," Jenny said once the kiss 
ended.  "I have them, too. Now ride me on home."


Three weeks later Jenny and Jeff graduated from 
high school, and Jeff still hadn't saved up enough. 
It wasn't that he got any more tickets. He'd spent 
all his money to take Jenny to the prom.  Tux 
rental, a corsage, the prom tickets, a nice dinner 
at Mae's diner, and a room at the Kozy Winks wiped 
him out.  There was not enough for a bottle of 
champagne to say nothing about several acres of 
desert real estate.

"I feel bad about the champagne," Jeff said.  "I 
thought I'd have enough."

"It's okay," Jenny said.  "You're all the champagne 
a girl could want."  She giggled.  "Give me another 
kiss."

The pressed together.  Silver moonlight sifted 
through the ratty curtains, bathing the bed and 
Jenny's naked body.

"We can't stay all night," Jenny said, breaking a 
kiss. "And we can't actually do it."

"I know," Jeff said.  "I just like holding you.  
You're so pretty.  So beautiful. We can just kiss 
and stuff."

"And stuff," Jenny said, and she giggled again, and 
playfully squeezed a last droplet of fluid from the 
tip of Jeff's softened penis. "Mm," she said, "not 
as fizzy as champagne, but better."  She covered 
his body with her own.  "You know," she said, after 
a moment of gentle tussling, "you can hold me 
without the motel room."

"I know," Jeff said.  "But it's better in bed.  
Without any clothes on. Someday we'll have our own 
bed.  Not this .... this place.  Someday, when 
we're married."

"Being married won't get us a place of our own," 
Jenny said.

"Yeah, but it's a start."

"We should just be thankful for this place.  If I 
didn't work here on weekends ..."

"This place?" Jeff scoffed.  "Ha!"

"Anyway, I think it's time you took me home.  It's 
past the time I told my dad."

"Forget about your dad.  Forget about going home. 
Let's just get married."

Jenny laughed.  "You're sweet."  She kissed his 
eyebrows.  "But you'll be in the army in another 
month."

"We could ride to Canada," Jeff said.  "We could 
ride to Canada this very night."

"On your cycle?" Jenny said. "With me in my prom 
dress and you in your tuxedo?  That's what I like 
about you."

"Does that mean you'll do it?" 

"You really want to?" Jenny said.  "You're so 
funny. You really want to marry me and run off to 
Canada?"

"I do," Jeff said. "I really do."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, silly.  I've always loved you. 
Ever since second grade."

"I've always loved you, too.  You know that.  But 
..."

"But nothing.  Let's do it! My grandfather's from 
up there somewhere.  We can stay with him.  Come 
on, it'll be fun."

"I don't think it'll be that much fun," Jenny said.  
But she mounted the cycle behind Jeff, and they 
took off, speeding north, the almost full moon 
lighting the way.

The miles flew by. On the curves, chilly winds 
buffeted the gauze of Jenny's gown. "This is 
crazy," she said in Jeff's ear.  "Maybe we should 
go back.  I'll marry you at home."

"For real?" Jeff asked.  He slowed the cycle.

"For real, but secretly," Jenny said.

"Why secretly?" Jeff asked.  "Because of the army? 
Because of your dad?  Because of your dad and my 
..."

"Just because," Jenny said.

The cycle was almost coasting. "It's not fair," 
Jeff said.  "I want you to be my wife, not my 
sister."

"We'd still have each other," Jenny said. "It'll 
work out.  You'll see."

Then they heard the siren.  Looking back they saw 
the flashing light a few hundred yards behind and 
coming up fast.

"We're almost at the state line," Jeff said.  "We 
can beat him there."

"No," Jenny said.  But the cycle shot forward, 
racing through the gears, skimming the highway.  
Jeff leaned forward and Jenny clung to him and the 
engine thrummed and throbbed beneath them. For 
several miles they stayed just ahead of the 
cruiser.  "Please stop," Jenny whispered to Jeff's 
back. "Please please stop."  The motorcycle roared 
through the night.

Just outside of Littlefield, they stopped on the 
shoulder. "We're over the state line," Jeff told 
Cartwright.  "You can't touch us now."

"Get in the car," Cartwright told his daughter.  
"What the hell were you thinking of?"

"Sometimes a girl's just got to take a risk," Jenny 
said. She wobbled when she got off the cycle.  But 
she got in the car.

"Jenny?" Jeff said.

Cartwright's hand moved to the handle of his gun.

"Daddy!" Jenny shouted, quickly cranking down the 
passenger side window.

"Look, you," Cartwright said to Jeff.  Spittle flew 
through the night air.  "You can take a flying fuck 
at the moon for all I care." Cartwright's hand 
tightened on the holstered gun.  "Just leave my 
daughter alone."

"And you leave my mother alone."

"This isn't about your mother and you know it," 
Cartwright snapped, and he strode briskly back to 
his cruiser.

"See you in school Monday," Jenny called through 
the side window.  "Okay, Jeffie?  Canada just 
wouldn't have worked out."

"What about what you said?  What about the ... the 
secret?"

But by this time Cartwright's car was well down the 
highway, and if Jenny heard, she gave no sign.

Jeff kicked his bike. He hopped on.  He drove 
through Littlefield.  He drove another fifty miles, 
and then he turned around and drove slowly back 
home.



"Shoot, your dad's here."

It was graduation night.  Jenny and Jeff had left 
the party early.  Only two weeks until Jeff's army 
date.  Jeff stopped his cycle at the end of the 
street, nearly a block from his house.

"So he's here," Jenny said.  "What'd you expect?"

"I thought he'd be on patrol or something."

"Let's just go.  Let's just drive."

"But the rubbers are in my room. Maybe we could 
sneak in."

"Let's just go."

"It's not like it's not my house, too," Jeff said.  
"Why are things always so complicated?"

"So what are we going to do?"

"We're going in," Jeff said, taking Jenny's hand.  
"Fuck'em!  But be quiet."

They slipped in the front door.  No sign of either 
parent. Jeff put his finger in front of his lips.  
Jenny mirrored the gesture.   Then they touched 
fingers.  Then they touched lips. Then the pair 
tiptoed towards the hallway.  They stopped short.  
Jeff's mom's door was open a crack.  They could 
hear the talk.

"They're big kids now," Jeff's mom was saying.  
"You can't keep ..."

"They're still kids," Jenny's dad said.

"Who can take care of themselves."

"I don't know--your boy is a wild man.  You ever 
seen him ride that cycle? He's a menace."

Jeff's mom laughed.  "He always was a handful.  
You're a handful yourself, Mister Big."

"You like that?"

"You know I do.  Now quit talkin' and put it in."

"Shouldn't I, um, shouldn't I put on a thingie 
first?"

"Nope."

"You sure it's safe?"

"Nope."

"Then why?"

"Our babies is growed," Jeff's mom said.  "It's 
time to start a new crop, if that's okay with you?"

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure if you're sure."

"Yes, ma'am," Jenny's dad said.

"Okay then, it's settled.  Put that big cock of 
yours in me and fuck me full of baby juice... yes, 
that's right, oh yeah, do it, do it, do it, ah yes, 
ah, you do it so good, so fucking sweet and good!"

Jeff and Jenny slipped outside.

"Jesus," Jeff said.

"Yeah," Jenny answered.

They rode Jeff's cycle all the way to Jenny's home 
without saying another word.

"You want a Coke or something," Jenny said when 
they were inside.

"I guess," Jeff mumbled in response.

"It's not like you didn't expect it," Jenny said.

"I didn't expect THAT," Jeff said.

"Really?"

"I don't know.  I guess I did.  But I didn't.  I 
mean ... I don't know."

"I don't know, either," Jenny said.  "But they're 
adults.  They can do what they want."

"I guess," Jeff said.  "But still..."

"But we're adults, too," Jenny said.  "Or close 
enough.  I mean, we almost went to Canada.  We 
almost got married."

"We could still go," Jeff said.  "We could go 
tonight.  I don't guess your old man would be in 
any position to chase us."

Jenny laughed.  "How long do you think they'll be 
at it?"

"From the sound of it, not too long."

"You saying my dad's not a good lover?"

"I'm saying my mom's awfully sexy."

"She is," Jenny agreed.  "But not as sexy as you."

"Or you," Jeff said.

"Let's get naked," Jenny said. "Let's get naked and 
do it."

She kicked off her shoes and started pulling off 
her dress.

"But we don't have any condoms," Jeff said.

"Fuck the condoms," Jenny said.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," Jenny said.  "It's all I've been 
thinking about for days and days and days.  Ever 
since we were eleven. I want to feel you shooting 
up inside me.  It's the only thing in the whole 
freaking world I am sure of."


    Aug 11, 1970
    
    Dear Jeffie,
    
    I got your letter.  I got eleven 
    letters from you, all at once.  I 
    didn't even try to read them in order.  
    I just read them.  I'm so hungry for 
    you. For your words but mostly for you.  
    So hungry.  So you've been there eleven 
    days now.   I guess it's been more than 
    eleven days by now.  I'm so glad you're 
    safe.  Stay safe.  Pretend I'm holding 
    you all the time.  That will keep you 
    safe. I pretend you are holding me. I'm 
    always smiling, because you are in my 
    mind.  You are in my mind and your baby 
    is in my tummy.  Yes, our baby.  It's 
    official.  As official as these things 
    can get. My daddy doesn't know yet.  
    I'll tell him, but I'm going to keep it 
    to myself awhile longer.  Just you and 
    me.  You and me and our baby.  I'm so 
    happy.  My daddy has his own little joy 
    to worry about.  I'm pretty sure your 
    mom is pregnant.  Isn't that fitting?  
    He hasn't told me yet, but I know.  I 
    went over there this morning to tell 
    your mom about the things in your 
    letters that I could tell her, and I 
    could tell right away.  Somehow it's so 
    obvious.  She seems really happy, too.  
    So maybe it's a race!  I think we'll 
    win.  Cuz your baby juice is probably 
    faster than my dad's!
    
    I wonder if your mom could tell about 
    me.  Probably.  But she didn't let on.
    
    So what do you think it will be, a boy 
    or a girl?  Either way, I don't care.  
    I'll even let you pick the name.  But I 
    get veto.  What do you think about 
    Harley?  Harley Otterfoot.  Or 
    Davidson.  Davidson Otterfoot?  
    Seriously, I do like David.  It's a 
    peaceful name.  Gentle and strong. Or 
    maybe Haley if it's a girl.  Like 
    Haley's comet? Like a beautiful 
    shooting star!
    
    I'm just so so glad we did it that 
    night!  Aren't you?  I think about it 
    all the time.  I think about it and I 
    think about you and it makes me feel 
    good.  It makes me feel whole and full 
    and wonderful.  I can believe anything 
    could be that good.  Maybe because I 
    knew we'd have a baby out of it.  I 
    just knew.  Once I was on top of you, 
    riding you that way, with you so deep 
    inside, so full in there, in me--it 
    makes me shiver to think about it, even 
    now.  And now our baby is in there, 
    because of that, because of our love. 
    Oh, Jeffie.  I'm crying a little bit.  
    Crying because I love you so much.
    
    You know, sometimes when I was riding 
    behind you on your cycle, I used to 
    come.  Especially when we went on the 
    rough roads, or we went really fast at 
    night.  I'd actually have sexual 
    orgasms.  Could you tell?  You 
    couldn't, could you? I was a little 
    embarrassed about it. The first few 
    times I was worried that the seat would 
    be wet.  I felt so wet I was sure some 
    of it would have dripped out, and I was 
    afraid you'd be mad at me.  But I loved 
    that thrill, I loved riding behind you, 
    the wind whipping, and my body just 
    going crazy inside.  But it was never 
    as good as that night--really doing it, 
    really coming, because you were making 
    me come, not just me, not just the 
    ride--it was like riding into a white 
    hot star, and out the other side.  We 
    have to do that some more, okay?  We 
    have to do that lots lots more.  Every 
    day.  Ten times every day.  I'm telling 
    you now, I'm going to want more babies.  
    Lots more babies.
    
    But first we have to get through this 
    one.  I figure he or she will be a few 
    months more than one year old when you 
    get home.  Big enough to sit on the 
    back of a motorcycle.  They'll be room 
    for all three of us.  You can teach her 
    how to ride.  Or him.  You can teach 
    him how to drive a motorcycle.  Or her.  
    Our baby.  So you come home safe, you 
    hear?  You come home safe and sound and 
    we'll be together for always and for 
    ever.  I'll write you more after 
    supper.
    
    Love,
    Jenny
    
    PS  This morning I took some money out 
    of my bank account and I went down to 
    Hopper's and I bought that piece of 
    scrub land on the corner of T and Route 
    11 that you were always talking about.  
    My dad said it was a dumb thing to do, 
    but I figure it'll be a good place for 
    you to teach little David or Haley to 
    ride. XXOOOXX
    
                     ~~~

In room 1424 of the Mecca, Jerry and Rose Miller 
are getting ready for bed.  It's been a long day, 
their 50th wedding anniversary.  They've dined and 
danced and taken in a show.  They've held each 
other's hand in the shops and museums, and they've 
gambled the dollars their children have given them, 
winning some, and losing more, but keeping the 
winnings in a separate pile to be divided among the 
grandchildren.  It's been a long day.  A good day.

"And now we have this champagne," Rose tells her 
husband.

"It's good stuff, too," Jerry says, admiring the 
bottle, twisting the wire.  "I don't know how they 
can afford to."

"It was really nice of them," Rose says. "To bring 
it to our room and everything.  Can you imagine--
the owners bringing it up like that?  Such a cute 
couple.  This place really is a lot like paradise."

"Well, I don't think they were the owners; I think 
they just work here."

"No.  They said welcome to 'our place.'  Like it 
really was theirs.  And besides, their names were 
the same as on the whatcha-ma-callit."

"Maybe," Jerry allowed. "But I got the idea they 
were more brother and sister."

"No," Rose said.  "More than brother and sister.  
Did you see the way they held each other's hand?  
The way they nestled against each other when they 
talked to us.  That was love."

"Can't brothers and sisters..."

"Not that way.  Not with that heat.  And besides, 
she has a little bun in the oven."

"Really?"

"Trust me on that."

"If you say so."

"I do.  Now why don't you pop the cork of that 
champagne so we can have a few sips, and then maybe 
we can do a little loving of our own?  I'm ripe and 
ready, and the millennium is young, young, young."



==============
Mecca
by Mat Twassel


Comments welcome. Write to:

mmtwassel@aol.com


More Mat Twassel at:

http://members.aol.com/Mmtwassel/index.html

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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