Cal felt the urgent need to pee 15 minutes before he reached home, and he willed himself to hold it until then. He had learned at an early age that he had the ability to control his body with his mind, and it had come in quite handy at times. Now, instead of squeezing to keep from releasing the pressure building up in his bladder, he slowly 'talked himself down' until the need no longer dominated his thinking, but just stayed ever present in the back of his mind.
Upon arriving home he walked deliberately into the little two-bedroom home he had shared with his mother and two sisters since his father deserted them 11 years earlier, not rushing but willing his body to wait until the proper time to find relief in release. He shouldn't have drunk that last 32-ounce Pepsi while waiting for his shift to run out.
As he approached the bathroom, he heard the steady beat of the shower, and knew his older sister, Lydia, must be getting ready for a date. As was the custom in the household – which had only one bathroom to be shared by the four adults – he knocked twice on the door and waited for his sister's lilting voice to call out, "It's okay, come on in."
He entered the room to see Lydia's face framed in wet curls sticking out from behind the shower curtain.
"I've got to pee in the worst way," he explained, heading for the commode.
"Help yourself," his sister giggled as she ducked back behind the curtain, "Just don't splash any on me!" He smiled as he stepped to the commode. What a wonderful relationship he, his sisters and their mother had. Body functions were body functions, and carried no sexual connotation whatsoever.
As he finished urinating, he looked down at his penis. It wasn't large or small, just normal. He hadn't been circumcised as a baby so he had to pull back the outer sheath of foreskin each time before urinating so there would be no chance for deposits of the discharge getting under the folds and causing infection. His mother had patiently emphasized that with him as a child, and he had always been careful to pay attention as he grew up. "After all," she had said, "you may want to keep this monster around with you as you grow up and you don't want it to shrivel up and fall off!" It still didn't look like a monster, but he knew that it sometimes tried to control him like one.
He flicked the last few drops of urine off the end of his penis into the bowl, then waited patiently for a couple of seconds until the final 'wave' came, dribbling off the end of his dick into the bowl. He flicked once more and then began to put the 'monster' away.
"Do you always do it that way?" he heard his sister's voice at his elbow, and looked up in surprise to see her watching him from around the end of the shower curtain, a mischievously wicked smile on her face. He knew that smile, and that she was just playing with him.
"Well, we always say in the locker room, 'It don't matter how much you shake and dance, the last few drops are in your pants,'" Cal said, laughing slightly.
"Save that locker room talk for your buddies and get out of my way, I need to dry off," she said, smiling lovingly at him. He moved aside and she slid out of the shower stall, wrapped a towel around her still-wet body and headed for the door. "Come on, let's talk," she said casually and he knew he was in for one of those wonderful sessions when she would leisurely dry off and get dressed in front of him, allowing him to admire her youthful body, unashamedly posing in provocative postures for him on occasion and then laughing as he let his tongue hang out and bugged his eyes.
They had a relationship that even their mother was totally unaware of, which spanned the last four years. Cal thought back over the events of time that had brought him and his now stark-naked sister to this point.
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Their father had turned into an abusive drunk by the time their younger sister, Tricia, was born. He did not focus his abuse on the children, though, but on his faithful, loving wife, who tried her best to meet his every need while raising the three children.
Lydia was eight, Cal seven and Tricia two when he decided he no longer wanted them as a family.
Cal and Lydia had come out of their bedroom one morning – all three children shared the same bedroom and double bed, since there was no where else to sleep in the small house – to see their mother crying silently as she tried to glue back together several large pieces of her mother's antique pitcher which lay broken on the table in front of her. She hugged the two children, kissed them and watched them walk out to the bus stop before returning to her heart-breaking task.
The children had lain in bed hugging each other the night before as the angry words erupted from their father's lips, to be answered by the pleading voice of their wonderfully soft, warm and loving mother. Finally there was the sound of things breaking and of their mother's weeping. They looked at each other with eyes filled with despair as they waited for the bus.
That afternoon when they arrived home, their father was filling the family car with personal belongings. Their mother was no where to be seen – she had taken Tricia for a walk to the park to avoid what might have been a violent farewell. Lydia took one look at her father and then went to the children's bedroom, closing the door behind her. Cal just sat on the front porch steps and watched his father with cautious eyes. When the man was finished, he approached the child, trying to be friendly and fatherly.
"I've had enough of this shit," he said, spitting into the grass at his feet. "I'm getting the hell out of here." The boy just watched him, no emotion showing in his carefully guarded eyes. "Maybe someday I'll drop by and show you how to throw that football you got for Christmas." The child still did not reply, either by word or gesture.
The man spat into the grass once more.
"You kids are just like her," he said, turning to walk toward the car. "Gutless. The least you could do is fight," he threw back over his shoulder. The child smiled slightly at the remark. His mother had taught him the year before – when he had entered battle with another child in kindergarten who had tried to bully him – that there is more than one way of fighting. Sometimes silence and indifference were more powerful than physical violence. He did not totally understand all that was involved, but believed inside that he had just won an important battle for his family – for which he was now the 'man of the house.'
As the children grew up, and Lydia began to develop physically, they all worked together one summer to complete a small room in the attic for Cal to use so the two girls could have some degree of 'girl privacy' in their room.
The family was very close and their mother had no sexual hang-ups, so the children grew up accepting each other's body differences, without making it a major issue. Jackie, their mother, had talked with each of them individually about "the birds and the bees," and they had always felt free to bring troubling questions to her when they heard certain things at school.
