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{homo erectus} kevin catalano Henry’s wristbones shivered with the collision of aluminum bat to skull, a vibration that traveled his elbows, armpits, ribcage, and belly. He looked around the lightless alley behind the bar before bringing the bat down on the head once more. He was about to run, then crouched beside the man’s body and emptied the pockets of the wad of tips. As he was bent, Henry felt stiffness between his legs. He stood, looked down, and there below his belly, tugging at his nylon running pants, a massive erection. A noise from the backdoor of the bar sent him running. Before getting onto the public street, he removed the ski mask and gloves, caught his breath desperately, then took out his cellphone and pretended he was talking as he walked to his car. The dashboard clock blinked 8 PM. As Henry sped the backstreets, he squeezed his hand down his pants to investigate the erection. What the fuck? He punched his leg, bit his tongue, even pinched his scrotum, but it was not deterred. When he got to the YMCA, at 8:07, he swung by the dumpsters and discarded the evidence, including the cash. He walked bent over into the Y to conceal the protrusion from the old ladies working the desk, grunting and gripping his back as explanation for his posture. “Gonna sit in the sauna,” he told them. Once out of sight, he hurried down the stairs to the basketball courts, where five guys were warming up. “There he is.” “Hey Henry, whaddaya say?” “Sorry guys. I was upstairs getting some crunches in. Been here about half an hour.” “Crunches?” The guys leaned on each other, laughing. “Can we get this game on already?” Kenny snapped, unamused. “I’ll be right there. I got to use the bathroom first.” Henry rushed through the locker room and into the bathroom stall. He pulled his pants down and it was still there, throbbing. Shit! He listened for anyone nearby, then proceeded to masturbate. It was inexorable in his fist, and after a few minutes, he quit. He pulled his pants back up and left the stall to view himself in the mirror. The boxers he wore provided no support beneath the thin nylon, and the erection pointed like a divining rod. Henry kicked the door of the stall, then stood listening to the squeak of sneakers out on the gym floor. He suddenly scrambled to the lockers and began rifling through people’s stuff until he found a roll of athletic tape. He pushed his pants down and wrapped the tape around his wide hips, fastening his erection to his abdomen, until the roll was empty. He laughed looking at the mummified penis, then pulled his pants up and checked himself in the mirror. It was unnoticeable. He quizzed his flexibility by raising his knees, squatting, jogging in place, but most of these movements bit into his skin. Henry exhaled and shuffled out onto the court. “Let’s get this over with,” Kenny said. “I want to get to the bar before going home.” “Is Kissy working tonight, Henry?” asked Sanchez whose name was Paul. “Yeah, shit, I’ll go too if Kissy’s working,” said Walker. The ball was passed to Henry to inbound. He squeezed it. “Uh, I think she’s working. I mean… I don’t know.” He passed the ball, then hobbled down the court. “You think? Shit, I’d never let a girl like that out of my sights.” The erection swelled beneath the tape. It felt like a whole loaf of deli meat was strapped between his legs. Henry was passed the ball, but he immediately threw it off as Big Dave began to guard him close. A bucket was scored and everyone ran back to the other end of the court. “Why you running funny?” Albert asked. “Your herpes acting up?” cracked Sanchez whose name was Paul. “Too many crunches I guess.” On the other end, Big Dave posted Henry up, thrusting his butt into Henry for position. Henry quickly backed off. Big Dave was given the ball, and he scored. “What the hell kind of D was that?” Kenny yelled. “Sorry.” On the next defensive play, Henry couldn’t help but steal a lazy pass at midcourt and he found himself in a fast break situation. Henry was forced to sprint as he and Kenny charged toward the basket with only one defender to beat. Henry was given the ball near the goal and he jumped to score a layup. He came back down the court, his teammates high-fiving him, until Big Dave screeched. “What the fuck is that!” Henry’s erection had broken free and it was pointing at the guys. He covered it and shied from the court, but not before everyone saw. They moaned and scattered. Walker was doubled over laughing hysterically. “Why you packing heat, Henry?” “It’s the crunches…,” Henry tried. “I mean, the medication I’m taking, it has all these side effects.” “Get the hell out of here with that shit,” Kenny screamed, the maddest of them all. Henry fled the gym and stomped up the stairs, barking and smacking at his erection along the way. He Cromagnoned his way out of the Y, hunching and grunting again for the old ladies. Once in his car, he flipped open the cellphone, scrolled through the names, began to call, put the phone away, took the phone out again, then called. He got voicemail. “Kissy, hey, it’s like 8:35. I’ve been at the Y playing basketball for the past hour or so. I just wanted to call and maybe… come over, if that’s cool. So… it’s 8:35 now—no, 36, and I’ll be over in like two minutes. I’m just going to come right over without stopping, so… yeah.” Henry folded the phone, exhaled, then turned the ignition. He sped back through town, bypassing the street that went by the bar. He turned into the apartment complex, went to her building, walked the hall that always smelled of fried bologna and cigarettes, and stopped at her door. He put his erection under the waistband of his boxers to tame it, then knocked. Kissy opened the door, eyes smeared with mascara. She seemed not to recognize him, then collapsed on him and wept into his shirt. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled, clutching her small body, his erection trouncing her ribcage. She suddenly jumped back, looking at his pants. “Jesus Christ, Henry.” He began to apologize, until he examined her. She was dressed for work, which meant a black miniskirt that barely covered her panties, a low tanktop and push-up bra, big hoop earrings, lipgloss shimmering her pouty, Latin lips. The tingle shot through him. “Henry, why are you looking at me like that?” He shut the door and approached her. She kept her eyes fastened on him as she retreated backwards. “I just got a call from the bar,” she said, knocking into the coffee table. “Someone killed Rob.” The erection was leaping forcefully as if trying to free itself from his body. Henry pulled his pants down to his ankles and shuffled forward. She ran into the wall, her eyes wide and chest heaving. “Henry, I think you should know something,” she stammered, reaching under her skirt to roll her panties down her legs. “About me and him.” “There’s something you should know too,” Henry said, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her short legs around his waist as he pinned her to the wall. His hands under her ass, he held her just above his leaping erection. “About what?” Kissy breathed into his ear. “About me and him,” Henry said, and the plunge came next. |
