Train Prompt Story

My Mom Knows Everything

When I wake up there’s some high school or college girl sitting in the same bench seat as me.

I look out the window. Trees rush by. Both my parents love train travel. It’s OK. Boring, but OK.

I’m pretty close with my mom, especially for a boy. We became closer when my grades were dropping. I didn’t tell her exactly why, but then she didn’t ask. Maybe she knew. I don’t believe in mind reading, but she surprises me sometimes.

Like I said, didn’t tell her the whole story about my grades. At first, it was because I’d promised Joan, but now it’s more like, she’s my mom, and how do you tell your mom you did all kinds of sex things with a high school girl but you broke up with her because she wanted to do it and you were afraid? Well, all right, not high school, but high school age. Now I guess I could tell my mom about it. I want to, but the words get stuck.

I get up, fish in my bag for the book I’ve been reading, and go to find an empty space to read. My parents are OK with this. They trust me, heh-heh. No, not heh-heh. Who am I kidding? I’m one of those good kids. I’m afraid of breaking rules. I guess that’s why I broke up with Joan. But then, what are the rules for something like that? She wanted it. I was just afraid. I kind of regret it but what the fuck? I’m only 14. Not that long until 15, but 14. It’s not like there will never be another girl.

I find an empty place and start reading. Pretty soon I fall asleep.

When I wake up there’s some high school or college girl sitting in the same bench seat as me. My first thought is, but then my second thought is, oh come on. You can’t be that lucky. Even so, I pull my book over my lap because, well, you know, just thinking about it.

“Oh my God, I loved that book!” she says. She must be a nerd girl because it’s Second Foundation, a big hard cover copy I got from the library. That’s fortunate in its way, that it’s a big book. It would have been better if it was a jacket or something. She picks it up and like, did one of her fingers actually touch my dick? By now, it’s like a fucking rock!

I’m so embarrassed! I don’t want her to see my face so I lean over in my seat and, wouldn’t you know it, I cum! Now what? At least my dick goes down a little, but I’m wishing my whole self could just shrivel up and blow away. Should I pretend I’m sick?

I lean back and say, “Oh. Shit. I don’t feel so good.” I wanted it to come out matter-of-fact, but the way it actually comes out — I’m busted.

She looks at me and says, “Do you think I’m dumb?”

One of those hour-long minutes passes. My face is on fire! It must be red as all get out.

“Hey, let me show you a secret.” She gets up and starts down the aisle, then turns around to me. So I get up. It’s like I can’t not get up. Between us and the door to the train car there’s like nobody, maybe one old guy sleeping. Thank God! Does it show? We go to the next car. It’s all sleepers, but it’s not the car where me and my parents sleep. She turns around and puts a finger to her lips.

“Shhh!”

I shhh. Of course she opens one of the doors. She says, “It’s all mine!”

Yeah, bullshit, I think, but it doesn’t matter. My legs feel like jelly. I’m almost angry, but powerless. I follow her in.

Carl wakes up. “Oh shit, looks like I was dozing. Where’s Allen?”

“Went off to find a spot to read. You know how he is. I think it gives him a feeling of independence, to get off by himself. Oh look, here he comes now.”

I walk over to where my parents are. They smile. They’re pretty nice. My friend Kenny, whose parents are forever giving him shit, always says, “You’re so lucky. You got a couple of really nice parents.” So I guess I could have done a lot worse.

But I have to wonder if I’m giving it all away with my face. I mean, shit. I just did it. Can parents tell? How would I know?

But yeah, I did it. That girl, Anne, was, I don’t know, more forceful than Joan. Not that she forced me, she just exuded force. But I don’t know what to think. My brain is swirling like a dust devil. What if I got her pregnant? Then what?

She exuded force. The Force. That thought makes me laugh a little as I sit down, which is a good thing.

“What’s so funny, kiddo?” says my mom. I look at her but I’m not smiling. Her face, I don’t know, darkens a little, and she nods to my dad, who picks up his paper and walks off.

What’s with this world? Girls make me do whatever they want, and my parents can see right through me. I’m a puppet made of glass. That’s the only explanation. I’m so shaken, I bury my head in my mom’s lap. Funny how this sort of thing with my mom never turns me on at all. At least I’m somewhat normal.

I start crying. I can’t help it. I stifle it as best I can. If I could, I would climb all the way onto my mom’s lap and let the motion of the train put me to sleep like when I was little.

“What’s wrong, dear?” She strokes my hair. It’s like I’m seven years old.

“I’m all right.” I wish I knew how to lie.

“You know you can tell me anything.”

This time it’s too much. The words come unstuck.

“We — I — A girl — A high school girl, I think, maybe older. We — ”

She gets me to sit up, so she can talk to me.

“I know,” she says, “I know.” Of course she knows. “It was wrong what that girl did, even though you went along, still, you are so young.”

“What if she’s pregnant?”

My mom sighs heavily. “Experiences, experiences. If she’s pregnant, we’ll figure it out.

“OK, you told me a secret, so I guess I owe you one.

“I was once,” she stops, bites her lip. She looks as if she is about to cry. So I spare her the trouble.

“You were once that girl,” I say, “It’s OK, mom.”

“No it’s not OK,” she says. Her voice shakes so much she almost can’t get it out, “It’s not OK because — ”

I hug my mom around the neck and whisper in her ear that I love her. What else can I do?

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