The Genius

          “See her right there?” The boys looked at thirteen-year-old Jenny Halverstien as she talked to three of her friends. “In two years I’m gonna lose my virginity to her.” Scott Huffman was twelve-years-old, his best friend Jake Burns was eleven and asked, “What’s virginity?” Scott’s eyes glistened as he opened his mouth to let his little buddy in on one of the grown up worlds best kept secrets. Jake’s eyes widened as he learned what lay in store for him. And that was just the beginning. Scott Huffman had a grand plan, a scheme that would land him and Jake a giant windfall by the tender ages of fifteen and sixteen, and that had nothing to do with his losing his virginity to Jenny Halverstien.

          At home Scott watched his dad kiss his mom on the cheek and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry because he was so darn happy. See, his own father was in fact, his best friend from his last lifetime. The day his father’s child was born, they named the baby Scott after him whom had passed away in a horrible accident. His dad’s name was David C. Huffman and they grew up together in uptown New Orleans. They lived on Arabella Street right next to the fire station. When they were young, they would steal soda from the soda machines using a straw and a bottle opener. They would play football in the street with the local kids and dream of one day, being the quarterback that would take the Saints to the super bowl. They went to De La Salle together, then on to LSU, always fighting, winning, or losing their own personal wars together.

          Then, in the middle of the night after a bit of secretive binge drinking at Ms. Maes, Scott sped down Napoleon towards Baptist Memorial and crashed into an Oak tree. Scott Huffman was born at that exact moment and somehow, Scott was transported into that baby’s body. He felt everything--the searing sting of air as it entered his lungs, the cold, the intense need to feed. It was all there, pounding and crashing into his senses. He couldn’t open his eyes, or at least he thought he couldn’t. He couldn’t see a damn thing that was for sure, but he could feel, and what he felt was at peace in Beatrice’s arms. And the smell of his good buddy David had never been so satisfying. He was their child. Their baby. And all was right with the world.

          Scott Huffman grew, he walked and talked as soon as he could figure it out, and became the perfect child for his best friend and his wife. His mom and dad. Scott hadn’t forgotten a thing about his old life. He loved it. And as he grew, he excelled little by little in school and sports. He had a new lease on life and everything was fantastic except the few times his “condition” threatened to break up his best friends marriage.

          “I don’t know Bea, he acts an awful lot like Scott.”

          “Well, we named him after him. I always thought of Scott’s angel protecting our little guy from trouble.”

          “You sure you never slept with him?”

          “David C. Huffman, how could you say a thing like that?” Beatrice stormed out of the kitchen and David didn’t notice Scott hiding behind the kitchen counter. From then on Scott worked on being less old school Scott and more of an incarnation of serious new school Scott. There were no more problems after that.

          Now little Scott Huffman held, at least, in spirit a BA in business marketing and he had an ambitious plan to have a toy store that would feature him, little guy Scott on billboards around town. It would be an awesome toy store that would promise “You’d never grow old.” He sold lemonade, gave car washes, organized pet donations and even petitioned congress for kid’s rights to skateboard. Life was good but to Scott Huffman the whole plan would fall into a shamble if his inheritance didn’t come through. During his entire lifetime Scott agonized over the fact that he was below average in both length and width and that drove him to drink faster than a fish diagnosed with ADD. It was absolute misery for him in the old life and that is what he still obsessed about. Puberty was right around the corner and he wondered every second of every day if big genitals were in the genes or not. He definitely knew he was in good hands being David’s son. His dad/friend was hung like a bear. “The White Mandingo,” he would call him.

          Two years later Scott was older and, finally, within a lifetime and a half he had what he wanted. He posed in the mirror for three hours on the first Saturday in which he discovered that he had inherited a large penis. That prompted David C. Huffman to sit his little Scotty down and teach him about the birds and the bees.

          “Son, we need to talk.” They sat on the low branch of an old oak tree in a secluded pocket of Audubon Park. “A lot of fathers give their sons a speech about sex. Well, I’m going to give you a speech from your God Father. I don’t talk about him much because somehow, it’s seemed like he’s always with me. Well, I felt he would’ve wanted you to hear this.” Scott Huffman listened carefully. His heart welled for his friend; he wanted to cry but couldn’t, because it would be inappropriate.

          “In a few years you’ll be a man and Scott Bremer, your God father, in a beautifully drunken state would always expound with a vigor that I cannot reproduce: David, listen, you’re only gonna live once so when you get a hold of that pussy, never let it go, don’t let up for anything cause you never know when it’ll be gone. Treat the pussy right and it’ll treat you well right back.”

          Fourteen-year-old Scott Huffman leapt from the oak tree and exclaimed “HELL YEAH!” and pumped his arms vigorously, just like he had done in the barrooms back in the day.

          “Scott?” David looked at his son differently for the first time.

          “Yeah, dad?” Scott was calm now, felt like his cover was blown.

          “Scott, Bremer, is that you, don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

          Scott lowered his head, and in a monotone voice said, “Back at the fire station, we stole coke by opening the bottle tops with Mrs. Browns old bottle opener. You lost your virginity to Ms. Sarah Jenkins from Perrier Street when you were fourteen.”

          David ran to his friend and grabbed him in a bear hug. The man and teen-ager rolled around in the leaves and wrestled as they exclaimed “FUCK YEAH!” to anyone who’d care to listen.

          With the euphoria died down and their heart rates back to normal, David asked Scott. “So what do we do now?”

          Scott picked the leaves from his best friends hair, “We don’t tell mom a damn thing, an’ I go out there and make you fuckin’ proud.”

          David forgave every suspicion he had ever had about Beatrice and cocked his head towards the sky as if to momentarily question God, then they walked home. Scott Huffman dressed in a tuxedo for his junior prom. He was taking Jenny Haslverstien. Beatrice brushed imaginary lent from his jacket as she told him, “Now Scott, I want you to be the perfect gentleman, open doors for her, make her feel special. Boys don’t do that anymore, it’ll make you unique.” Scott’s blue eye’s beamed innocence to Beatrice. David walked Scott out to the car as he secretly handed him a box of condoms.

          In the car Scott was more than proud to read the word “Magnum” and with his best friends blessing, he drove into the night with a smile on his face and only a fraction of the secrets of the universe.

Thomas Green is a competitive video gamer when he is not making videos of his two cats, Timon and Pumba. He also writes when the muse strikes. He lives in Wilmington, Delaware.

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