THAT DAY

I take a trip down to Santa Cruz with my sister Miriel, visiting her boyfriend Mike and her best friend Diane, who I have a crush on and want to talk to... But I can't seem to get her alone: the others are always there. Miriel keeps saying "quit clinging to me, Chris" when I'm not. In the past she had reason to suspect me of this: for years I wanted my sister, loving her so deeply, in fact, that for all practical purposes I felt engaged to her, felt like dating others was cheating on her... But I finally let go. I accepted she wasn't interested. I let Mike have her. Gave up the bride...

And noticed Diane. Single and cute.

Maybe Miriel doesn't want to believe I've given up, misses incestuous attention. At least she keeps popping up when I try to talk to Diane. And then complains like I'm still sniffing after her, when SHE's hovering round ME.

It makes no sense, but it's tense and uneasy. Like thunder rumbling at the horizon.

We all go hear William Strickland at the Kuumbwa Jazz Society. He improvises lyrics on the spot--dreamlike monologues about earthquakes, wet Kleenex, lightning towers, genius surfergirls, and the last hobo.

I get sick again. I was careful what I ate, it has to be sheer emotional stress. Why are they acting so tense, freaking me out?

THAT NIGHT

I follow Diane around, through trick doors and little holes and panels. It's like slow-motion tag. She evades me for a long time. Our pace gradually heats up from teasing to full-on chase. At last I catch her and hold her from behind. She doesn't struggle, in fact snuggles up against me, back to me.

My cock creeps up between her thighs, between her wet lips, up to her clit, half under the hood, pressing right where it should stimulate her the most. But something's very wrong: over her shoulder I see my penis protruding out front, covered by a thin membrane--Diane's clitoral hood, stretched thin as a balloon! Looks grotesque and feels weirdly blank, almost asexual.

I'm detached from this body now--I just listen to dream-me think "We need to try another way. Perhaps a second girl will fix it."

So he grabs her friend Miriel, and stick HER in front, facing inward, sandwiching Diane. He/I try to fuck her with our combined penis-plus-clitoral-hood. Two girls at once! It should be a thrilling, a fantasy come true.

Instead this too just feels weird, blocked, numb.

I woke confused who was who. My description may have had them reversed: was the membrane-girl Miriel, the second girl Diane? But I sure was trying to fuck them both--or more accurately, fuck one of them WITH the other. Using her like a sort of living condom.

And it was not working. The least sexy sex I've ever had.

NEXT DAY

The beach, with Mike, Miriel, and Diane. Feel awkward--want Diane, but I just can't be real with her. Or am I showing my feelings plainly enough and she's just preoccupied?

I start to feel sick. Severe inflammation and pain in my guts. Spreads to my balls, as if I'd been kicked hard in the crotch.

Sit in a cafe with them. More small talk. Miriel says once more, angrily "You're clinging to me, Chris!" SHE invited ME down here, I want time with Diane, and Miriel gets in the way. "Clinging to Diane", THAT would be fair... but this is absurd!

I get up disgusted, and as they erupt into a three-way argument at the table, I walk out and drive away.

Looking back I see Miriel was lying. To me, to herself. She wanted me out of the way because she sensed that Diane had something to confess. Diane and Mike both.

How do I know? When I reach home, Miriel calls. She says "Mike and Diane have been lovers since before he and I even started up! They never told me!" She's upset but not devastated--sensed they shared a secret for some time.

No wonder I got so sick. Here I was scolding myself for being too shy, when it wasn't MY repressed passions stressing me out, but theirs, as they tried to privately discuss it, first behind Miriel's back, and then all three of them behind MY back--all wanting me to leave them alone to hash it out.

I had so much riding on this. I finally let Miriel go, let Mike have her... took off my blinders, turned to Diane... Now it turns out Mike has her, too. Everywhere I turn, they're all fucking each other... all but me. Oh, I have my role. I'm their little coal-mine canary. I pick up their stress and get sick, I'm their safety valve, warning them when it's grown intolerable, when it's time to bring it out in the open.

Many shamans get sick from the work, but at least they usually get paid for it.

I want to be a Mike for a while, all charm and dishonesty, fucking whoever he wants with no thought of the fallout. Except... in my dream... I got that wish! I WAS him. Fucking them both. But finding out that even THAT didn't cure the wrongness. The barrier. The numbness they share.

ACTION: stay away! Diane has nothing for me. She's stretched thin as a membrane between her best friends. And my sister's just the same.

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