James’ Psychic Experience

Nathaniel was making his way towards his laptop after his morning walk with Slippers, ready to write an essay on the effects of Communism on Chinese children. Already angry about one of his least favorite governments, he stormed upstairs, kicked off his white Birks, and settled down on his bed to get some writing in.

About five minutes and three words into the essay, the telephone rang. Downstairs, he heard Ma say cheerfully, "Hello, you have reached the Clemente Residence. With whom do you wish to speak?"

(His rendition of this greeting was, "Nathaniel of the Clementes here. If you’re not a telemarketer, who do you want?")

He paused, wondering who it was. Ma giggled and murmured something. Clearly, it wasn’t for him. He looked at the title of his essay ("effects of communism on china"). This wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe he should punch a flamingo, just to get the edge off of his mood.

"Nate, babe, it’s for you!" Ma cried out cheerfully, out of the silence.

He groaned. Only one person could possibly be so charming with ladies like that, to keep them talking for a while before handing over the phone to him. Only one person could have that effect, even on straight women.

He put the laptop on the bedside table, jumped up, and tripped over the chord.

He screamed out an expletive, clutched his damaged elbow, and angrily hopped into the adjoining bedroom to pick up the phone.

"Heard that," the familiar voice said into his ear.

"Whatever, ass-bandit. I just hurt myself. What do you want?"

There was a quick click downstairs as Ma hung up the telephone.

"Bored. And I need to ask you a favor… Where’d you get ‘ass-bandit’?"

"My friend Mathilda’s homophobic mother. She dresses in muumuus. You don’t like women, and you especially wouldn’t like this one."

"Excessive curves are unnecessary."

"She’s one giant lump. And cellulite. All the curves a straight guy…"

"Enough," Pete snapped. "Listen, I’m coming down to Orlando for a couple of days, and I need a place to crash. My boyfriend’s parents don’t know of his orientation, so I can’t really stay in his place. Can I stay there?"

Nathaniel grumbled.

"Please? I’m your best friend."

Nathaniel became absorbed in the action of rubbing his two feet together. His green hair was falling into his face. He groaned.

"Please? I haven’t gotten some in the longest time."

Nathaniel sighed. "If you must. Please don’t bring him over here. Ma knows you’re out and proud, but I don’t want bad associations with my room."

Pete made a squeal-like sound. "You are the best. Thank you so much, man. I owe you one. I’ll use my charm to get you a girl. I promise."

"I do not need your help in charming women."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Two days."

"Okay. Email me with the specifics. Want me to pick you up at the airport?"

"That would be nice."

Nathaniel walked downstairs, fondling his sprained elbow. Ma was rinsing off the dishes. Before he could even get a word in, Ma began to speak.

"You know, Pete is such a sweet boy. You could stand to be a little more like him at times. Such language –"

" – I hurt myself. What? You want me to play for the other team? See the other side of life? Become the ‘Lucky Pierre’?"

"I did not understand half of those references."

"I’m sorry, Ma, but I’m straight."

"You do not have to be a homosexual to have the proper people skills. Communications are key!" She took off her yellow rubber gloves and put them on the edge of the sink. Carefully, she eyed him up and down. "He also dresses better than you do."

"Why all the negativity all of a sudden?" Nathaniel asked, feeling a bit down.

"I do not appreciate that language. I used to rinse your father’s mouth out with soap."

Just the mention of Nathaniel’s parents made him cringe. Ma’s eyebrow lines straightened out and she settled down in the seat across from him.

"Sometimes I worry that perhaps you don’t get along with people as well as you should. Becoming friends with Mathilda was a wonderful idea; you’re good for each other. Pete is an adorable boy. But I sometimes worry because I don’t often hear of other people."

"I have other friends. They just aren’t interesting enough to talk about."

"If you ever need someone to talk to…"

"Yes, Ma. Pete’s staying over for a while. I’m not sure how long. He’ll be here in two days."

Ma stared out the window.

"Okay, well, I’m going back up to work on my essay."

Nathaniel was driving his pickup truck with Pete in the passenger seat, Slippers sitting between them. They had KMFDM cranking; Nathaniel turned it down.

"I hope you don’t mind, but Ma wants me to cash a check of hers. It’ll only take a few. The bank’s down this way."

They turned and, to Nathaniel’s dismay, there was a mass of people there. He made an involuntary whimper. Peter took off his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes at them. They glanced at each other and shrugged. Nathaniel parked.

The two of them jumped out, Pete carrying Slippers. They began making their way between the people. Almost at the entrance, a perky woman stopped them with a microphone. She was wearing a pink suit and had a bad perm. A cameraman pointed his piece of technology at them as she held out the microphone to them.

"Would you two like to get your hair treated with Great Hair?"

Nathaniel groaned. "No."

Pete began edging towards to the doorway.

"Why not?"

"Because," Nathaniel said peevishly, "I use the cheapest hair stuff possible. I don’t want to be in your infomercial."

She smiled coyly. "But wouldn’t you like to see what it’s like? Life is so much better when you have great hair!"

Nathaniel refrained from asking her just how terrible her life must have been.

"Please?" she asked, widening her eyes and pouting. Oh, damn, she was cute, despite the perm.

"You can even get the puppy done. He’s adorable."

That was it. She’d complimented his dog. He couldn’t resist now.

They turned into the driveway to the sight of Ma and Pa on the porch, drinking lemonade. Upon seeing Pete, Ma squealed and jumped up.

He slid out of the car, hopped up the porch steps, and gave Ma a big hug. She proceeded to kiss each of his cheeks.

Nathaniel carried Slippers to the porch to watch the proceedings.

"Goodness," she breathed excitedly. "You three look so good. Did you get something done to your hair?"

It was true. Their hair was soft, thick, lush, and shiny, just how the pretty woman had told them it would be. Nathaniel, grinning, let Slippers onto the ground, where he ran in circles, barking. He ran one hand through his hair while he put the other into his pocket to make sure her phone number was still there.

"Well," Pete said, vainly patting his long black and red hair, "we ran into some nice people who offered to shampoo us. It was a very tranquil experience."

Ma glowed. "How wonderful."

"Very pleasant," Nathaniel agreed.

"Especially," Pete said enthusiastically, nudging Ma, "because he got the young lady’s phone number."

Ma beamed. "Where does she live? Goodness, Nathaniel, don’t scare her off."

"This one’s not Minnie Mouse," Nathaniel replied. He picked up an orange Frisbee, threw it, and watched Slippers scamper after it. "She’s a consumer, and her hair needs work, but I can improve upon her."

Ma and Pa exchanged knowing glances.

"I feel like such a pimpette!" Lily cooed. The four of them, Nathaniel, Pete, Lily, and Pete’s boyfriend, were all sitting together in an Applebee’s. She was glowing at the fact that she was the only female.

"You can only pimp men who like women," Pete informed her.

She sighed playfully and played with her ridiculous hair.

"How," Pete asked Nathaniel, "did Mathilda take your date tonight?"

Sometimes Nathaniel feared that his young neighbor harbored a crush on him. He attempted to deter these feelings. For example, he was open with his bodily functions (farting, burping, picking of the nose). He cursed often, called her "woman" now and again, and made crude jokes. Unfortunately, she still looked at him with open admiration.

"She didn’t. I didn’t tell her."

Lily’s eyes widened. "You have a girlfriend?"

"I have a neighbor with a crush. She’s a nice girl. But underneath she still likes Nsync and Puff Daddy, no matter how much she denies it."

"What’s wrong with that?" Pete’s boyfriend asked innocently.

"No," Pete snapped at him.

Pete’s boyfriend shrugged and looked at his drink. "Justin Timberlake –"

"I," Nathaniel declared, "would rather get with Slippers than Justin Timberlake."

There was a long awkward pause.

Half an hour later, they were finishing off their meals and the waitress, a bitchy young lady named Crystal, threw their bill into Nathaniel’s lap. "Should I take that as an omen that I’m picking up the check?" he asked, reaching down to turn it over.

Pete’s boyfriend snatched it out of his lap, causing him to blush. "I’ve got it covered," he said cheerfully.

"How sweet of you." Pete cocked his head to the side and stared at his boyfriend.
"Anyway," Nathaniel and Lily said at the same time.

As Crystal took the cash and stalked off (probably angry at her deservedly small tip), the four of them got up to leave.

"Did you bring your car? Do you need a ride home?" Nathaniel asked Pete’s boyfriend.

"Actually, I do, but it’s kind of out of your way. I’m sorry."

"It’s all right. Hop –"

"If you want, I can take him. He’s on my way to my apartment," Lily piped up.

The group split up, and Nathaniel and Pete climbed into his truck.

"You’d rather get with Slippers than Justin Timberlake?" Pete cried out, going into giggles. "That was…"

"No pre-fabricated capitalist pop star is ramming his joystick up my ass," Nathaniel stated as he put the car in reverse to get the truck out of the narrow parking space. Putting it back into drive, he turned onto the road and stopped before a light.

"I think we were talking giving end, not receiving end, actually," Pete said. "Usually when we think of stars, it’s… What? Nathaniel! The light turned green!"

Nathaniel, who himself was turning green, slammed on the gas, throwing them both back into their seats. "How am I supposed to concentrate?" he whimpered.

"Sorry," Pete said. He looked out the window.

"Mental images," Nathaniel said.

"Imagine how I feel about you and Slippers."

The grinding obnoxious noise of the telephone woke Nathaniel up the following morning. He groaned and put his pillow over his head. The phone continued to ring. Grumbling, he pushed the covers aside and slunk into the hallway, where he picked up the phone and sat down in the armchair below it.

"Nathaniel of the Clementes here. If you’re not a telemarketer, who do you want?" he recited.

"Hey," Pete’s boyfriend asked cautiously into the telephone. "Is Pete there?"

Nathaniel shrugged, then realized he couldn’t see that. He groggily looked at the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway. It read 1:oo in the afternoon. "I’m really not sure. I just woke up."

"I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just really have to talk to Pete."

The poor guy sounded like he was about to cry. Nathaniel perked up a bit. "What about? Is everything okay? Anything I can help out with, aside from sexual favors?" (He quickly reflected that he shouldn’t’ve said that.)

Pete’s boyfriend laughed.

"I’m sorry, but I never learned your name. I’ve always thought of you as ‘Pete’s boyfriend.’ "

"James."

"Okay. What’s wrong?"

"I… I did something I shouldn’t have, and I think that I should confess to Pete."

Nathaniel knew that he probably wouldn’t want the answer, but he felt he had no choice but to ask the question. "What'd you do?"

"You really do want to know what I did?"

Nathaniel nodded, remembering to audibly say yes as well.

"I wound up going back to Lily’s apartment and having sex with her."

Nathaniel stared up at the ceiling and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. "Did you now? Aren’t homosexual males supposed to not like women?"

"I’m bisexual."

"I’m going to go downstairs and see if I can find Pete," Nathaniel said quickly. He put the phone down and ran downstairs. The rest of the house, save for Slippers, was empty. He checked the refrigerator, which bore a note reading, "Dear Nathaniel, we went outlet mall shopping. Took Pa’s car."

"I’m sorry, James, but they went outlet mall shopping."

"How do you know that? Are you sure you’re not lying to me? Did Pete say something?"

"No. There is a note on the refrigerator." There was a pause. "Why can’t you just not tell Pete about this? ‘Ignorance is bliss’ and all."

"I can’t do that."

"Why not?" Nathaniel asked irritably.

"Because I need to make a decision, and Pete needs to help me with it."

"You don’t know which one you like better?"

"Right."

"Well, you’d better make a decision before they get home from outlet shopping."

"I can’t."

"You’re weak."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Can you help me decide?"

Nathaniel began tearing off a hangnail. "You’re kidding," he said into the telephone, which was cradled between his hear and his shoulder.

"No. I really can’t decide."

"My opinion’s biased. I like Lily and my best friend likes you, so it’d be better of each of us got what we wanted, not what you two want."

James squealed. "Maybe we can have a foursome."

Nathaniel felt his body go numb. "I don’t think that’s a great idea."

James sighed sadly. "I think we need outside help from somebody who understands."

"Gee, maybe we should go to a psychic convention," Nathaniel replied sarcastically.

"That’s a great idea! Hold on."

Nathaniel yanked the hangnail violently from his finger, drawing blood. He was sucking at it for a few minutes as he waited for James to come back.

"Okay, there’s actually one downtown…"

"I was kidding."

"But I think it’s a great idea. Please?"

Nathaniel sighed.

"Aw come on. I’ll give you a ride. Be ready in twenty minutes."

Nathaniel nodded.

"What do you think?" James asked impatiently.

"Oh. I meant ‘yeah.’ I’ll be ready."

Nathaniel, his hair still wet from the shower, tried not to drip in James’ Cadillac. It was a very fancy car; therefore, he felt guilty riding in it.

"Okay, it should be… aha. Right there. Thanks so much for coming with me. You’re a real sweetie."

Slippers hopped on Nathaniel’s lap, trying to see out the window. Nathaniel picked him up so he could have a better view. Feeling bad about chaining down his furry friend, he slid a leash onto his collar as James parked. He attached the leash to one of his belt loops.

The three of them got out of the car and began to walk around the tents.

It soon became more apparent than before that James was an indecisive person. He looked at all of them with a growing concern, obviously unable to choose. Wanting to get the whole process over with, Nathaniel said, pointing at a bright red one with a giant eye painted over the doorway, "I have a good feeling about that one."

James clapped his hands and practically skipped inside. A woman in a sari greeted them by bowing at them with her hands clasped. "Greetings," she said airily.

"Hi," Nathaniel said. "My friend needs some help making a decision."

She looked brightly at Pete, then dropped to her knees to pet Slippers. "We can help you here. You will leave feeling more confident."

"I hope so," James replied.

"All right, would you like a ten minute session for $5 or a 20 minute session for $7? That’s for you alone. If he wants to be read at the same time, it’s $8 for ten minutes and $10 for twenty."

"Let’s get both of us done," James said nervously. He reached into his pocket, pulled out two fives, and handed them over. "I hope Slippers isn’t extra?"

Nathaniel snorted.

The two of them followed the sari woman into a compartment with a rather large and acne-covered thirtysomething woman with a bindi in a tie-die dress.

Nathaniel could’ve thrown himself out a window, had there been one.

"Greetings. I feel that the one with the green hair feels a little apprehensive about our meeting," she said, smiling warmly at him.

He eyed her warily and sat down, putting Slippers onto his lap. He sniffed at her.

"My name is Anastasia. I will help you with your problems. I recommend that this one" (she pointed at James) "goes first while the green-haired one adjusts and becomes more comfortable." She eased herself back into her chair. "First, explain your situation, then I will read your cards."

"My problem…"

"Let me guess!" she cried out.

James shrugged.

"You have to decide… I see that there is a little bit of tension. You are trying to decide between the yin and the yang, if you catch my drift."

James clapped his hands together. "Yes!"

Nathaniel interrupted. "You can take that in so many ways. You psychics are such jokes. The yin and yang could either mean male and female – which is his problem – or light and dark, good and evil, or anything that’s opposites. Everyone has to choose between opposites all the time. Of course you’re going to strike something with that one. Next thing you know you’ll be telling him that he’s going to meet a tall, dark stranger."

"I see that you are not a believer," she said patiently. She narrowed her eyes a bit and then turned to James. "You have to choose between your girlfriend and a friend of yours who is getting in the way?"

"Actually, I have to choose between my boyfriend and his girlfriend," he said, smiling and pointing at Nathaniel.

"She isn’t," he pointed out, "my girl. I went on one date with her, which resulted in you, not me, going back to her apartment."

"I see that you harbor negativity," Anastasia told him. "We will find it, face it, and erase it later."

"What is this? A three step program?"

"Anyway," James said, "I’m having trouble with this problem. I don’t know whether I like my boyfriend or this other girl better."

"I always sensed a bit of feminine grace in you, the instant you stepped in," she informed him warmly.

"You should’ve said that as he stepped in, then," Nathaniel said.

"He might have been offended."

"What straight guy goes for psychic readings?"

She eyed him pointedly. "Would you like to leave?"

Nathaniel didn’t have a ride home. Damn. "No."

"Anyway, what do you think I should do?" James said, breaking the momentary silence.

"How do you feel about your boyfriend?" she asked him.

(Nathaniel refrained from asking her, "If you’re a psychic, shouldn’t you know the answer?")

"I like him very much. I see a lot of potential for that relationship. As for the girl, she’s so much fun. And she’s amazing in bed."

"Pete isn’t?" Nathaniel asked, not really wanting the answer.

"I don’t know," James replied truthfully.

He hugged Slippers in relief.

"It depends on what point in your life you’re going through right now. People go through cycles – sometimes they want the physical, other times they want the emotional bond. It seems as though you are choosing between your libido and your psyche."

"I never thought of it that way," James replied pensively.

(At least, Nathaniel thought, this is cheaper than therapy.)

(At least, he thought, I’m not paying for it.)

"Well, you should start thinking about all angles of the situation. Try to see yourself as this boy with the green hair. I wonder what he thinks? Try to see it from a perspective that’s not yours; it might help you make decisions."

"If I were somebody else, I would probably think that I should go for the guy who really does like me. I mean, he flew into Orlando just to visit me. I like him very much. But she’s fun. And she’s good in bed."

"Perhaps," Anastasia ventured, "You can have both, if both of them are open to open relationships."

"You are not playing my best friend!" Nathaniel cried out.

"We’ll talk about your problems later," Anastasia snapped at him.

Slippers growled at her. She stared at him. "Have you superimposed your psyche into this dog?"

"I … have no idea," Nathaniel replied, raising one eyebrow.

"I really don’t think that you should train your dog to feel what you are feeling. If I were to pet him, he’d bite."

Nathaniel grinned and fluffed his dog’s fur.

"Back to me," James said impatiently.

"I cannot make decisions for you," she told him. "You must make them for yourself."

"Should I flip a coin?" James asked Nathaniel.

Nathaniel sighed.

She told him that he should look at the trends of his life, try to decide. She told him that he should envision his life in a year, if he had been with each of them. She told him that whichever vision brought him more joy was the one that he should choose. Oh, and the twenty minutes were up.

As they were driving home, Nathaniel asked James if he felt better. James nodded, saying that now he had direction.

"Which direction?"

"I’m not sure yet. You know, you never got to utilize your half of the twenty minutes. Do you think we should turn around and…"

"No."

James drove Nathaniel to his home in the suburbs. Unfortunately, on the porch, drinking lemonade, were Ma, Pa, and Pete. The two of them, Nathaniel carrying slippers, got out of his James’ Cadillac and walked over to Ma, Pa, and Pete.

Ma forced a smile and asked Nathaniel if he wanted lemonade. He said sure and sat down on the ground across from Pete. Suddenly, he was aware of Pete and Pa glaring at him. Ma came out, forced another smile and shoved the lemonade into his hand.

"What’s wrong with everybody?" Nathaniel asked nervously.

James sat down beside him.

Slippers, who had been running around the yard, found his way into James’ lap.

"Can I talk to you, Nathaniel, in the kitchen?" Pete asked angrily.

"Yeah," Nathaniel said, standing up. For a moment he was dizzy and had to put his hand on the railing. Then he led Pete into the kitchen.

"What’s wrong with you?" he asked worriedly.

Pete glared. "That’s my boyfriend," he said possessively.

"I know."

"Then what," he asked angrily, "were you doing with him?"

"We went to a psychic convention," Nathaniel cried defensively.

"Original. But no points. I never thought that I’d live to see the day you stole my boyfriend."

"Stole your boyfriend? What are you talking about? I like women."

"Where did you go? Truthfully."

"A psychic convention. You can ask James. You can ask Slippers."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I have no reason to lie about a psychic convention. It’s not me that slept with your boyfriend. It was my girlfriend!"

Pete blanched. "What?"

Nathaniel blushed. (Whoops.)

"What did you say?"

"Let him explain," Nathaniel said quickly, ducking out of the kitchen and out onto the porch again.

"Who have you been sleeping with?" Pete hollered at James.

Nathaniel grabbed Slippers off of James’ lap to protect him from the line of fire.

"His girl!" he said defensively.

"I thought," Ma said slowly, "that Pete’s boyfriend was gay. My conception about gay men was always…"

"I’m BI!" James practically shrieked.

Ma’s eyes widened. "Goodness."

Just then, Lily’s pink Corvette drove up into the driveway behind James’ Cadillac. She ran out crying.

"Nathaniel, I am so sorry," she whispered, sitting down in front of him, "but I’ve found someone else. I’m in love with James."

Nathaniel refrained from saying a word. He stared at her, trying not to laugh, hugging Slippers.

James stared at her, the "libido." No, no, no. Love was Pete. Right?

"Now," Nathaniel predicted, "you will reveal that you are truly a man."

She shook her head. "I’m a woman."

"Damn. I was hoping for Springer action. May I get a chair?"

"Nathaniel!" Ma shrieked. "This is SERIOUS!"

"Popcorn?"

The three of them (James, Lily, Pete) stood facing each other in a triangle. Nathaniel wondered where people bought shields nowadays. He wondered whether or not Pete would challenge Lily to a duel.

James murmured nervously that he couldn’t decide.

Nathaniel reached into his pocket, fished around, found a coin, and handed it to James.

Two days later, Nathaniel drove Pete back to the airport. "I’m sorry about everything that happened, man."

Pete shrugged. "It’s okay. As long as you didn’t sleep with him, I’m all right with it. I have another boyfriend back home anyway."

Nathaniel stopped dead and widened his eyes. "You’re kidding."

"Nah. James was cute but this guy’s cuter."

"What did you tell the other one?"

"That I was visiting my straight best friend."

"You mean I went though all of that for nothing?"