calculation is null

You're blocking my sun; or, don't make me stand up.

Gaz, Rocco, Seb, and I were bumming in the apartment
earlier today. Gaz had "Sixteen Candles" in the VCR, and
was giving the characters' lines in sync with the movie.

Grandma Helen: Oh, Sam, let me take a look at you. Fred,
she's gotten her boobies!

Grandpa Fred: I better get my magnifying glass! [Laughs.]

Grandma Helen: Oh, and they're so perky! [Cups them.]

Samantha: I can't believe my grandmother actually felt me
up!

Gaz adores Molly Ringwald. He feels cheated that he hadn't
pubesced when she was in her prime; he's got lots of Molly
fantasies.

To the point. We were sitting around, Gaz with his movie,
Rocco on the phone with Marisa, trying to put some play
down, and Seb and I discussing the pros and cons of David
Mamet. My phone rings with Laam on the other end.

"Let's go swimming. I'm off early today," he said. I asked
if he'd had a chance to pick up his car from the shop, or
if he'd need us to retrieve him from work.

"Yeah. Why don't you go ahead do that," in his best Gary
Cole in "Office Space" voice.

"Okay, Bill," I sarcasted. "When should we be there?"
Commotion from Laam's end. Talking. More talking. Seb
looked over at me, wondering who was on the phone. I
shushed him with a finger to my lips.

"Lame, dude!" Laam was back. "My boss wants me to finish
this stupid ass project before I leave. Me no get out early
now."

"Weak, man," I said. "Well, can we still go over to your
place? One of us could just go from there to pick you up
later."

"Whatever." Laam was bummed. "Just don't piss in my pool!
That's mostly for Gaz if he's there. I'll talk to you
later."

I hung up and told the guys our new plans. Gaz mumbled
something about not wanting to leave Molly, but I knew
Molly would want him to go, so I turned off the movie.

"Dude! Nick, man! Turn it back on!"

"Come swimming with us."

No yes why yes no! yes man what about molly she'll still
love you man no yes.

Half of an hour later, the four of us surveyed the action.
No uptight nannies or units. Couple female types from
school. And, at the far end of the pool, splashing in the
shallows, the kiddles, our sworn arch blood feud enemies
ever since The Splashing.

Neet, Laam, Seb, and I had been laying on sun chairs beside
the pool one gorgeous day early in the summer. I'd reached
a state of half-consciousness in the searing blaze of the
midday sun, and my body had finally adjusted to the intense
heat. Seb was on my left, Neet on my right, and Laam was
chilling in the pool, doing somersaults or some shit.

Settling deeper into the burn. Waaaarm. Mmmm. Very Homer.

I heard the warning too late.

"Nick! Watch out!" from Laam, as a snarkily cold cascade of
water fell, like so many blocks of dry ice, onto my bare,
ten-thousand degree surface temperature, upper body.

"FUCK!" I yelled, leaping straight off my back into the
air. Neet and Seb, splashed by the bounce of water off my
chest, jumped as well.

"FUCK! What the hell?!" I turned in landing to see three
impish, chubby, scraggly boys run out through the
gate. "Get back here!" I shouted after them. "You punks!"

Laam was on deck now, splayed out, laughing to end all
laughing.

"You fucker!" Neet glared at Laam. "Why the fuck didn't you
say something sooner?" Laam tried to compose himself
failingly.

"I really didn't see them until the last second; I swear.
But, dude, you should've seen your faces. Nick was like
this." He made a face that I'm sure I never made, and then
rolled around laughing some more.

I turned to Seb. He tried to fake a look of concern.

"You bitch," I catted. He let loose his broad grin.

"You really should've seen your face, freak; it was cute."
He pecked my cheek. "Par for the course, to be sure." I
huffed down in my chair.

"Assholes," muttering to myself.

So, the black cloud was horsing around in the pool.

"Hey!" I shouted at them. All three looked up; one,
recognition and, mayhaps, dread, spreading on his face,
pulled himself out of the pool and ran towards home. The
other two stared.

"Don't mess with me." I pointed at them. They continued to
watch us as we grabbed chairs and set to sunning.

Not ten minutes had passed when a shadow darkened my sunny
eyelids.

"Seb, you're in my light." He's always standing around. We wonder
if his curls are too tight sometimes.

"Were you harassing my kid?" Had someone kicked Seb in the
nuts? I opened my eyes. A tallish woman, wispy blond hair
wisping in the wind, pursed her lips at me with a raised
eyebrow.

"What?" I was confused until I saw tattle-tale brat at her
side.

"My son says that you and your friends harassed him and his
the other day until they were crying." Ah. Box wine and
sushi.

"Your son," I smarted, "threw ice-cold water on us and ran
off." My pulse began to drum, and she was not on my side.

"That doesn't make it all right for you to bother and
provoke them! They're younger than you! Aren't you supposed
to be the mature ones? Do you even live here?" I tensed my
jaw. She repeated.

"Do you even live here? I haven't seen you around before."

"Our friend lives here," said Seb. I raised my hand.

"I've got this, babe." This time, I lifted -my- eyebrow. "Unless
your son is having trouble sleeping at night and hasn't had a
bowel movement in days from all the stress he's suffered,
you need to step out of my sun." I layed my head back and
closed my eyes.

We stayed there, me laying, she blocking my rays, for a
fullish minute. Finally:

"I'm waiting for an apology." I felt her move closer, so I
opened my eyes. Her brat looked at me with nah-nah eyes.

"You can wait all you want," Rocco said. "He's probably not going
to apologize." Bitch Mom didn't like the prospect of being ignored
and snapped at Rocco.

"I wasn't talking to you. And I'm not leaving until he
does." She wasn't leaving until I did. So I did.

"I'm sorry,"-- she smiled peremptorily, self-satisfied--"but
unless you move from blocking my sun," I sneered, "I will stand
up. Don't make me stand up." I stared, straight-faced, into her
eyes. She began to say something, so I tensed my jaw again.

Most people are pussies-- no malice towards my sisters
intended-- in that they back down much too easily and for
the wrong reasons. I wouldn't have hit this woman; she knew
that. But she feared the possibility, both of harm and of
her son seeing her harmed (read: weak). To whatever end,
Mom Bitch whipped around to leave, probably whiplashing
Timmy or Billy or Javier, or whatever his name was, in the
process.

"Don't let me catch this happening again. I mean it." She meant it.
And they left. I closed my eyes.

"Man, she was the People's Bitch, dude! You suplexed her
ass!" Gaz was excited.

"Nick, don't think you could ever work that shit on me,"
said Neet, who had seen the showdown coming out to meet us.
"I'm not afraid of anybody, most especially not your dumb,
queer ass."

"Love you too, Neet."