Free The Last Road Home by Danny Johnson

Fancy, but thinking it and doing it were a long ways apart, which made what came out of my mouth seem crazy. “If you want to.”
    We faced each other, our noses almost touching. “You ever kissed a girl before?”
    My knee started to bounce. “No.” Her breath smelled like sweet potatoes. “But I’m willing to start.”
    She laid her hand on my leg to quiet it. “We could try it if you want to, and see what happens.”
    I got a vision of Roy walking up while we had our lips stuck together. Maybe it would be worth the pain of an ass beating. “Okay.”
    Fancy edged closer. “All right, you ready?” She seemed way too calm.
    My brain was screaming, Stop! but my mouth wouldn’t listen. “If you are.” An owl hooted. I considered running like hell.
    Fancy folded her arms around my neck, and then pulled mine up to do the same on her. “Now close your eyes.”
    The soft touch of her mouth startled me.
    She pulled back. “You all right?”
    â€œSorry, couldn’t see it coming.”
    Fancy unzipped our coats and we stuck our arms inside each other’s jackets. “This time you’ll know what to expect.”
    Our lips lay stiff as a day-old biscuit at first, but then we began to move them around. I pulled my head back. “Are you sticking your tongue out?”
    â€œLightning told me that’s the way you’re supposed to kiss. Come on, let’s try it.” The feeling of our tongues mixing together was weird at first, but got warm in a hurry. We explored, hands squeezing and moving inside each other’s jackets, legs stretching and sliding until we almost fell off the stump. My God, could Christmas get any better?
    Finally, we pulled apart and zipped up our jackets.
    â€œWell?” Fancy asked.
    I sucked in the cold air, wore slam-out from holding my breath. “Well, what?”
    â€œDid you like it?”
    â€œDid you?” If she said no, I would go straight to the woodshed and kill myself with an ax.
    â€œI think we could get real good at it with a little practice.”
    I was thinking home run and she acted like it was only a single. But I was all for a little more practice.
    â€œIt’s getting late. You going to walk with me?” Fancy took my hand and we started slowly toward her house. “I might come visit you tomorrow on my bicycle, if it would be all right with your grandma.”
    Despite the cold, beads of sweat rolled down my neck. “Can’t think why it wouldn’t be.” I was pretty sure what we did was sinful; I’d heard the preacher say mixing races was a road straight to hell. And I knew without a doubt it was dangerous; there wouldn’t be forgiveness if anybody, black or white, found out.
    When we got to the edge of the woods, Fancy pecked me on the lips. I watched until she made it across.
    Walking back through the woods, I tried to pee. The last drops drained and I had a familiar urge. In a minute, jisim shot out, and my knees wanted to buckle. I used to practice behind the barn a lot, but fear made me quit. Lightning told me he’d heard a man could go blind doing it.
    In the quiet of my bedroom I worried I’d wake up not able to see shit, having to walk around with a cane and dark glasses the rest of my life. I repeated the Lord’s Prayer until I fell asleep.
    Daylight came, and I thanked God I could see the ceiling. I put on the new jeans, flannel shirt, and brogans, anxious to get to church and do some praying.

C HAPTER 10
    T hat ring around the moon thing must have been true. Six inches of snow fell right after New Year’s. A few days after the ice melted, Grandma said, “We need to get to killing hogs, Junebug. I’ll go up tomorrow and ask Clyde Wilson about helping us. You need to get the scalding-vat from the barn.”
    That night I fed the two pigs one last time, and scratched their ears while they grunted and slurped from