Page 14 of Bobby Green
“Mom split three years ago,” Reg told him without self-pity. He’d been sixteen, after all, and his other sister, Queenie, had left the year before, with her twins and her new baby. Queenie had a boyfriend, and their mom just had to leave. “Just me and my sister.”
A small furrow appeared between John’s eyes. “How old is your sister?”
“She’s older—she’s thirty. But I take care of her.” Reggie had frowned then, probably getting the same line between his eyes John had. “There were papers that showed up when I turned eighteen. They said I was in charge.”
John’s eyes got even bigger. And a little haunted. “You’re in charge of your sister? Your thirty-year-old sister?”
Oh shit. Reg gnawed on the cuticle of his thumb. “There were papers,” he said seriously. “She showed me how to sign them.” He smiled conspiratorially. “Actually, I signed them as my mother when I was sixteen. But don’t worry. We do okay.” He grinned then so John couldn’t see that they only did good when she took her meds. If Reg forgot—spent a night at a girlfriend’s house or didn’t show up for breakfast, maybe—she’d lie and say she took them. They weren’t okay then. They got really bad sometimes. So he didn’t do that much anymore.
“Where do you live?” John asked, looking at the address Reg had put on the application.
“There,” Reg said. “You know, Carmichael. Mom left us the house. Some money. I just gotta save money for taxes, right? And I could sorta do that at McDonald’s, but then, you know.” He grinned. “I was surfing porn, and there was your ad. I mean, fucking on camera—way better than McD’s, right?”
John shook his head, staring at the application and then staring at Reggie like he was trying to make a decision. Finally he took a deep breath.
“Reggie, do you have a driver’s license?”
Reggie nodded. “Yeah.”
“Are you registered to vote?”
He shrugged. “No. Do I have to be to work in porn?”
John looked surprised then, and he let out a puzzled little half laugh. “No. No, you don’t. And I’m losing sight of my goal here. A name, Reg. Do you want a different name when you work here?”
Reg had grimaced and scratched the back of his head. He’d worn his hair long back then, in thick brown curls. “I’m not that bright, John. Seriously. If someone calls me by another name while I’m fucking, I’ll lose my boner looking to see who they’re talking to.”
John’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again.
Then closed. He mumbled something to himself that sounded a lot like “I don’t know which one would be worse.”
Reggie’s eyes clouded. “I did okay, right?” He’d jerked off. His body was the smartest thing he had—responsive, decently endowed. John had said something about working out, because he wasn’t very buff, and he figured if his job was fucking on camera, he could work out plenty. “I mean, I didn’t suck at jerking off.” He stood up and started to unbuckle his pants before shoving his hand down the front and working himself again. “I could do it again right now.”
And John, who had just spent half an hour telling him he had a cock like a god, turned bright red and held his hands out in front of his face like he’d never seen a naked man before.
“No! No! Reg, time and place, okay? You’re great at jerking off! You rock at it! If you can fuck in public, you’ve got the job—”
“I’ve got the job?” Reg was so excited he forgot to do up his fly. He pulled his hands out of his pants and waved them over his head, jumping up and down. “That’s awesome! Woot! I’m a porn star!”
“A gay porn star,” John said carefully. He’d said something about this before, but Reg hadn’t really registered.
“Does this mean I have to have sex with men?”
John’s left eye started to twitch. “Yes? We talked about this? It’s, uh, a requirement, Reg.”
Reg nodded, remembering this. “Okay. Yeah. You’re right. I can do that.” He gnawed his lip. “What if my boner melts?” And suddenly a little bit of his desperation seeped into his voice. “McDonald’s sucks, John. They yell at you there. It’s loud. People get mad. I had a lady yell at me because I got her drink wrong. She was awful—I had to shut the window. Why people gotta be like that?”
John shook his head, green eyes dazed. “I don’t know. I have no idea. Don’t worry, Reg—we’ll take care of you. There’s things you can do if the boner, uh, melts. As long as you want to work for me, I want you to work. I promise.”
Oh, that was nice. Reg hadn’t gotten a lot of that since his mom had taken off and he’d had to find jobs. Veronica had looked the jobs up on the computer—Reg wasn’t good with them. He’d been taking workability classes in high school, not computer classes, and Veronica got awful when she was trying to teach him how to do things. He could surf the net, end of story. If he hadn’t been watching porn on his own laptop, this opportunity would never have fallen into his lap. So having someone be nice about a job—that meant a lot to Reg. He didn’t want to let John down.
“Okay, then,” Reg said trusting this nice man with the camera. “If you can help me out, I’ll do whatever you need me to.” He nodded, remembering some of his nicer teachers. “I’m dependable. I’ll do whatever you ask me to. I promise.”
John closed his eyes and nodded back. “God, it’s a good thing I’m already going to hell.”
“You’ll go to heaven,” Reg said, because good guys did. His mom had taught him that much. “Just don’t make me take another name.”
John had heaved a sigh and conceded, and Reg thought everything was going to be fine.