Free Perfect Freedom by Gordon Merrick Page A

to demonstrate that there was no need for embarrassment or mystery. “It can mean other things in slang, anything to do with making love. You’ve seen people making love in movies, all the kissing and hugging and all that—the part you always say bores you. The French say ‘on baise’ even when it isn’t actually kissing.”
    â€œI see.” Robbie tried to keep his expression neutral as if he were digesting an ordinary bit of information. He saw his mother give his father an odd look as she cut in quickly with another remark about a house, leaving him to his thoughts. Michel had been right. There was something about the word he hadn’t understood. He still didn’t. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. It sounded as if it were the sort of thing his mother didn’t like him to be interested in. The afternoon had confused him thoroughly without being enjoyable.
    It had all started with the word. “Tu es trop jeune,” Michel had taunted him when Robbie had won a game of boules. “Tu ne sais pas baiser,” he had added as if everybody didn’t know how to kiss. Insults were exchanged. Action followed. Michel led the way around to the back of the hotel and summoned a plump little girl who was sitting on the steps of the house next door. She approached sullenly through a row of tomato plants. It was the same little girl who had let them watch her take a bath earlier in the summer. She had kept her legs pressed together so that she looked as if she had no pipi. He didn’t want to do anything with her. Something furtive about his two companions made him nervous and after that everything became sort of blurred. He was sure they were doing something bad. Bad things could be fun sometimes but he didn’t expect to have any fun with the girl around.
    They went to a room in a part of the hotel Robbie didn’t know. It was musty and hot and strange things began to happen. The little girl lay on her back on a rusty iron bed. Her skirt was up around her waist and she had nothing on under it. She again kept her plump legs pressed together so that she looked as if she had no pipi. Robbie turned his back on her. Michel took all his clothes off. Something was wrong with his pipi. It was surprisingly big and stuck out straight in front of him. He jeered at Robbie for hesitating to take his clothes off and the word cropped up again. How did he expect to kiss the little girl if he didn’t get undressed? Robbie had no intention of kissing anybody but he took his clothes off to prove that he knew what it was all about. Michel sneered at him because his pipi was mou. Having a soft pipi also seemed to have something to do with the word. Michel tugged at it and, to Robbie’s astonishment, it got bigger than he’d known was possible and also stuck out. He was afraid that it would stay that way but it felt very pleasant. Michel ran his hand rapidly back and forth on both of them, producing an odd tingling sensation that ended in a sort of spasm. Robbie was relieved to see that his pipi was returning to normal as a jet of liquid burst from Michel’s. It looked as if he were trying to pee into the air. It was the sort of dirty thing he would do. Michel bragged about it. It proved that he was old enough to kiss. His pipi stopped sticking out.
    This seemed to displease him. He made Robbie run his hand back and forth on it until it grew amazingly hard and stood up again. Robbie was pleased to learn how to do it. For a moment, there seemed to be some point to what they were doing. At least he had accomplished something.
    â€œNow I’ll show you,” Michel said. “Watch.”
    He turned to the bed. Robbie didn’t want to watch. The way the little girl lay there, inert but somehow expectant, annoyed him. She was stuck up. Complacent. It was a word he’d learned recently. That was what she was. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her.
    Michel lay on