Fevered Fall part 3 of 3 (NND) I was still mesmerized by the Tommy the Tugboat song. It did have a pretty catchy tune, I thought, even if it was stupid: I’m Tommy, and I Tell! That’s why All is Well! I patrol the harbor, Nearer and farther, And Tell everything I see! Nothing gets by Me! “Toot! Toot!” I said. “Huh?” Brad asked. We were in the kitchen. I was drawing Tommy at the kitchen table, waiting while he fixed us sandwiches. I’d offered to do it, but Brad had said ‘no.’ I baked my first pie last night, and after Brad ate it, he threw up. So he wasn’t trusting me to make him anything today. I guess when the recipie said “flour,” and I couldn’t find any, I shouldn’t have put in baby powder instead. But I figured, if it was good enough for a baby’s bottom, shouldn’t it be okay for a grown man’s stomach? As I colored in my drawing of Tommy I sat thinking about him. He was always saying “Tell! Tell!” but who exactly was I supposed to tell? “Auntie,” I said under my breath, to myself, pretending to Tell. “Auntie, there’s a man twice my age who’s fucking me.” “Well, dear, give him to me,” my auntie would no doubt reply. “No, thanks,” I answered her, in my imagination. (I snuck up on our house today, after school, to make sure Brad wasn’t Doing It to her again.) And if I told somebody at my school, that would just get my auntie in trouble. And Brad too. I didn’t want that. “Tommy, you’re dumb,” I told my drawing of the tugboat. “I’ll be finished with them in a minute,” Brad, his back turned, said to me. “They’re very excellent sandwiches. They take a while to make.” “No rush,” I said. “We can combine them with dinner.” “Ho, ho. It won’t take that long,” Brad said. “Do you think your aunt wants one?” Rebecca was out back, sunning herself by the pool. “Nope, becuase I don’t want to have to wait that long for mine,” I answered. “Toot! Toot!” “What?” Brad asked. “It’s what Tommy the tugboat says,” I told him. “He says we gotta Tell on strange men who are twice our age and fuck us.” “Fine,” Brad said. “Toot! Toot!” I said. “Quit saying that,” Brad told me, still working on our sandwiches. “I’m going to say it every time you come near me, to keep myself Protected,” I told him. “Maybe Tommy will hear it and save me.” Brad finished our sandwiches. He turned around and walked over to the kitchen table, where I was drawing. He looked great; just wearing his swimsuit, no shirt, barefoot, all muscled with a perfect tan. As he drew close, to hand me my plate, I leaned back away from him. “Toot! Toot!” I said. “What?!” Brad asked. He put down my plate on top of my drawing. “You’re getting too close,” I warned him. “And don’t put that on top of my picture!” “Sorry. I thought you were using it as a place mat,” Brad said. I slid my drawing of Tommy out from underneath the plate he’d set down. I held it up. “See? This is Tommy the tugboat!” I said. “Yes, Mrs. Picasso,” Brad answered. He sat down in the chair beside mine. “Toot! Toot!” I declared. “What now?” Brad asked. “You’re too close!” I warned him. “You need to sit on the other side of the table. I’m just a little girl. You’re a big man.” “You’re a little baby,” Brad said. He got up. He went around and sat down in the chair across from me. “Toot! Toot!” I said. “What?” Brad asked, frowning. “Tommy still thinks you’re too close to me,” I said. “Not me, but him.” I held up my drawing. “I’m eating outside, with a mature adult,” Brad told me. He got up. He grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and walked out of the kitchen. I scurried after him, taking my sandwich and my picture with me. “Toot! Toot!” I hollared. “Wherever I go, you gotta move away, ‘cause I’m just a little girl!” We went outside, Brad striding ahead, me following, yelling, “Toot! Toot!” Rebecca was lying in a chaise lounge on the patio. She looked up from behind a fashion magazine. “I don’t need a sandwich, Brad, dear,” Rebecca said. “No, but I need some peace and quiet,” Brad said. He sat down in a chair next to hers. I sat down in one next to him. “Chloe, are you bothering Brad?” Rebecca asked me. “No,” I said in a small voice. I began eating my sandwich. Then I leaned toward my boyfriend. “Toot, toot!” I whispered. “AUGHGH!” Brad said. He jumped up. “What’s the matter?” Rebecca asked. “Your niece is acting like a baby,” Brad said. “No I’m not. I’m just saying ‘toot toot,’ I said. Brad stormed inside, leaving his soda. I took a sip from his can. “Honey, are you being a nuisance?” my aunt asked me. “Umm, ummm,” I said, shaking my head ‘no’ and biting into my sandwich. “Anyways,” I said, when I’d gotten a big mouthful of Brad’s sandwich between my cheeks, “What good is having a boyfriend if you can’t bug him?” “Please don’t talk with food in your mouth, Chloe,” my aunt said. I swallowed. “Sorry, auntie. But I’m just playing,” I told her. “I know,” she said. She smiled. She went back to reading her magazine. Indoors, Brad put on some music, loud, so he wouldn’t be able to hear me if I said “toot toot” again. “I’m done with my happy meal!” I announced. “Let’s play!” Carefully I laid out the game boards I’d gotten from McDonalds. There was one for each person, plus one in the middle, for everyone to move their tokens around on. It was ‘My Special Day,’ for getting an ‘A’ in school, and so I got to choose the game and make up the rules. Brad sat down. He was eating some leftovers from dinner. Rebecca sat down beside him. “What is this, spin the bottle?” Brad asked. He was unhappy that he couldn’t watch football on T.V. But Rebecca told him we had to do just what I wanted, since this was my special day. “This game is called ‘Mate with Me Monopoly!” I said proudly. “I made it up myself.” “Where’s the money?” Brad said. “You can’t play Monopoloy without money.” “In this game you can,” I replied. “Oh, great. How in God’s name--” Brad began. “Brad. Be nice!” Rebecca told him. “A Monopoly game, as modified by a little girl. I’m sure this will be much more interesting than football,” Brad groused. “You’ll see, Bradley,” I told him. I grinned at him. “Don’t call me Bradley,” he said. He frowned at me. “Okay, stink hole,” I said. Rebecca giggled. I cleared my throat. “Now, not only is there no money in my Monopoly, there’s no need for any of those property cards either.” I had two pair of dice in my hands. I shook them with both hands and sent them flying across the cocktail tray we were using as a flat surface. (Since we were all sitting on pillows in the living room, on the carpet.) “Six!” I said, reading the dice. “Hey! Who said you can go first?” Brad asked. “It’s my special day,” I told him proudly. “Stink hole.” I counted out the six spaces, moving the dime that was serving as a token. “Or-- Or,” I said, bending close to read the square I’d landed on. “It says, ‘Go to Jail’,” Brad told me. “No it doesn’t, Bradley!” I said. “It says Oriental Avenue, dear. Would you like to buy it?” Rebecca asked me. “Oh, goodie!” I said. I clapped my hands. “That means I own all three of those light blue properties: Ore Avenue, V Avenue, and that long one at the end, C Avenue.” “Cunt etiquette Avenue,” Brad said. “Connecticut Avenue,” Rebecca said. On my own copy of the Monopoly board, I drew a big red C through each of the light blue properties. (For my name, “Chloe”.) I told Rebecca and Brad to do the same on their copies of the Monopoly board. Rebecca rolled the dice next. “Snake eyes!” Rebecca cried. She picked up a penny. “Don’t use the penny. Use the nickel,” I told her. “Why?” Rebecca asked me. “Because I want Brad to have the penny, because it’s the cheapest!” I told my aunt. “Dear, don’t be mean,” Rebecca said. “I like the penny. I’m going to use it for my token.” She counted out two spaces. “Community Chest. What happens now, Chloe?” “You have to do a sexy dance,” I told her. We watched as Rebecca did a belly dance. She only had on her bikini and as Brad watched it he grew a lump in the front of his Speedos. “I’ll bet you wouldn’t get one of those watching football,” I said to Brad, pointing at his groin. He cleared his throat and blushed. “This game does have some benefits,” he said. “But I still think a game of Monopoly, using the boards we got free from McDonalds, and moving pennies and nickles around, must be pretty dumb. Especially if the whole thing’s been invented by a girl who still likes Happy Meals.” “Just wait,” I told him. My aunt finished her dance and sat down. Brad rolled next. “Seven!” Brad said. “I rolled more than anybody! I’m in the lead!” He moved his token forward seven spaces. “Chance,” he said, reading the sqaure he’d landed on. “What do I get?” I fell on the floor and laughed. “You get a slap on the ass!” I said. “What?!” Brad cried. “Pull down the back of your swimsuit. Rebecca and me both get to slap your bare buns!” I told him. My aunt made him obey. We both whacked him as hard as we could with our palms. Brad settled his behind on the floor with a modest amount of discomfort after my auntie and me had both slapped him. Then, as I prepared to roll the dice again, he grabbed the piece of paper from me that I’d written the rules on. “Hey!” I cried. “I want to see these damn rules, so I know what’s going to happen,” Brad said. He looked at everything I’d written. It said: PUNISHMENTE FOR what SQUARE you LAND on: Baltic Avenue - Masturbate yourself. Income Tax - Everybody rubs food on your genitals. Any Rail Road - Lick everybody’s bottom hole. Community Chest - Do a sexy dance. Chance - Get a slap on the ass from everyone. Connecticut Avenue - Everybody splashes cold water on your genitals. Jail - Everybody loads your butt crack full of ice cubes. Virginia Avenue - Everybody fondles your genitals. New York Avenue - Run around the house one time, naked. Illinois Avenue - Go to the bathroom in front of everyone. Marvin Gardens - Lick everybody’s genitals. Pennsylvania Avenue - Rub your genitals against everyone else’s genitals. Boardwalk - Be penetrated by all the males’ penises, and all the females’ tongues, in your pussy. (If you’re a male, penetrate all the females with your cock.) “Hey, wait a minute,” Brad said, reading my paper. “It doesn’t say anything at all here about anybody owning property. Chloe, since you landed on Connecticut Avenue, you have to let everyone splash cold water on your pussy.” “YEEEEEK!” I shouted. Rebecca took the paper from Brad and looked at it. I drew myself up on my knees. “Chloe,” Rebecca said. “I know you want us to chase you around my house. But I don’t want anything broken. So, if you want us to keep playing, I want you to promise not to make us have to chase you. Also, if we’re going to be using water, I’d like to take a moment to spread out a mat on the floor so we don’t get the rug all wet. “Okay,” I said, hesitantly. “I’ll get the water!” Brad crowed. When they were ready to splash me, they pulled open the front of my panties. I was wearing my bikini. I watched, wide-eyed, as they poured ice cold water into the front of my swimsuit. I screamed. Rebecca laughed and held her ears, my scream was so loud. “This game is getting pretty good,” Brad admitted. He looked over my paper again, after I’d been doused. “What happens if somebody lands on Oriental Avenue? Or on one of the other properties you don’t have written down?” he asked me. “It’s the same for all three,” I said. “Connecticut, the V one, and the Ore one.” “Connecticut, Vermont, and Oriental?” Brad asked me. “Yes,” I said. “Any of those that you land on, you get cold water splashed on you.” “Great,” Brad said. “What about Jail? What happens if you’re just visiting?” “It’s the same as being in Jail,” I said. “There’s no ‘just visiting’.” “Oh,” Brad said. “How do you decide who wins?” Rebecca asked me. “He who cums is out,” I said. “Or we can just play until we’re exhausted.” “Hmmm,” Rebecca said. “You’ve made up a very naughty game, dear.” “Yep!” I said. “Just wait ‘til Brad brings all the guys over from his fraternity at college! Then it’ll be me, having another special day, and them!” “I’m not even in a fraternity... yet,” Brad said. “Well, join one,” I said. “I want to play my game with all your hunky friends at college. Tell them they can play a special Monopoly game with the prettiest girl in eighth grade!” “I don’t think they’d want to play with a girl who still eats Happy Meals,” Brad said. “I just thought the prize was cool,” I told him. “A glow-in-the-dark moon pendant. That’s pretty cool, don’t you think?” “Yeah, but it comes in a Happy Meal!” Brad said. “Tommorrow, Bradley, since it’s my special day, you’re going to eat a Happy Meal with me, so I can have three glow-in-the-dark moon pendants!” I tugged at the one around my neck. I liked the feel of it, hanging there. I hoped the living room lights were getting it nice and charged up so it would glow all night when I went to bed. “Tommorrow isn’t your special day anymore,” Brad said. “It is if I win this game,” I told him. “You just might,” Rebecca told me. “A whole fraternity house, indeed! You might ask me before you do that, dear.” “CAN I?” I said. “Let’s play this for now,” Rebecca answered. “This is quite dirty enough, thank you.” We played. I won. The next day Brad ate a Happy Meal for me, so I could get another glow-in-the-dark pendant. But Rebecca said I’d have to wait until I went to college before I could play Monopoly with all the hunky guys in the fraternity. “Then I’m going to get very good grades, so I can go to college early!” I told her. “Fine, dear,” my auntie replied.