Girls and Beetles

My mother doesn't make sense. For starters she named me Wolf.
"Its short for Wolfgang. Its classical! Mozart had that name."
As if that explanation on its own would make up for the years of relentless teasing at school. It started with 'Doggy' in kindergarten and evolved from there over the years. Just one of the joys of having a name that is originally a noun. Had I had brothers they would have been called Van and Spike. Though it has been lonely being an only child, I am happy to have saved them from such torment. ("I never knew that having a child would be so expensive!" That was the same line I got from her every time I'd ask if there were a chance for me to have a sibling.)

I'd ask her what names she had picked out if I were a girl.
"A girl! None, I always knew I'd only have sons...well a son."
"But how did you know you'd never have a girl?"
"Because I wouldn't allow it. Now, off to school."
"I'm back from school."
"When do you go back again?"
"Tomorrow."
"Oh, well I suppose you can stay the night."
"I live here."
"Then you can start on dinner. And be quiet, I'll be in the next room contacting my aura so I need silence! I'll get that stubborn fucker to change from orange to blue if its the last thing I do."

I remember coming back from school, strutting down the street having just learnt in science that it's the man that decides the sex of a baby, not the woman. However, when I got home I found her crying because another boyfriend had left her. (It's not that she is incapable of having a long-term relationship, seven months is the longest so far, it's just that, after a while with her, most men realise its better for them to go back to their wives.) So I thought I should leave my new found fact for another time and let her ring her 'sorrow bells' (her wind chimes in which the nice, high sounds will eventually pick her mood up with them. They usually take a few days and piss the dog off to no end but its better than the alternative: friends with make-shift drums and no need for sleep are invited over for a kick off. It escalates very quickly from there.)

You might be thinking that I should like having such a unique name as Wolfgang, but I resemble nothing of a wolf or a strong man who could take on a wolf. Even the dog doesn't listen to me! I'm 14, 5'2, scrawny, very white, dark haired, asthmatic and I need huge glasses to see anything. I kind of look like Harry Potter if he were Gothic and afraid of the sun. Good thing is I don't need a costume for Halloween, even though I'm not allowed to take part in anything that's a part of Halloween as Mum doesn't want me to get sucked into 'Satan's Annual Orgy.' This coming from a woman who renamed herself Pixie-Loveboat because Delia seemed a little too close to the word devil. The only member of the family who doesn't have a weird name is the dog, who's called Dog. "Why would I call it anything other than what it is?" explains my mother. Like I said, she doesn't make sense.

Before I can get any dinner started, I need some pots and cutlery that go missing from the kitchen on a regular basis so I have to trudge to the other side of the house to interrupt Dad (Albertus) and his space experiments. He and mum were never together so I'm the result of a one night stand ("You could have said something before mum filled in my birth certificate!" "I'm afraid of your mother."). He still lives here because he can't get a proper job, usually due to his insistent need to show off his Klingon to prospective employers during interviews. I'm embarrassed to say I know how to count from one to five in that funny space-age language. I think I haven't forgotten cause it makes him happy and it once stopped a man from jumping off of a bridge. He was depressed as he couldn't find anyone like him until Dad started struck up a conversation. Unfortunately the man slipped on the side as he was turning around to get back over the railing and died in the water. Dad still considers it a victory.

I use the special knock that he needs to hear to open the door, otherwise I could be anyone: the CIA who have finally found him after all these years after he stole a dirty magazine when he was nine, or the Scientology people who have correctly identified him as the man who tried to throw an egg at a fellow Scientologist's house, missed and hit his cat instead (he would be a faithful member of Scientology if only Tom Cruise weren't part of it). The door cracks open slowly and I recite the line I learnt at age five, "I am no harm to those behind the door or any visitors from above who may be inside." I'm let in straight away and I find what I need in the structure of Dad's homemade Dalek. There's still a dent in the side after he and Mum got into an argument when mum said that they actually sound very worried and unsure rather than sinister and evil. Mum won and Dad's Dalek got the final blow.

"I'm going to need those back. I've nearly finished you know."
"You've been working on it for seven years."
"And to finish it, I need those back."
"Right"
"What's for dinner?"
"Lamb chops for me, non-gluten, no egg pasta and soy-mince for Mum and your usual mashed potato, raw kidney beans, five leaves of lettuce and a plate of peas on the side."
"And my drink of water?"
"With three ice cubes, no more, no less."
"Because odd numbers confuse the aliens."
"Yes, Dad. I know."

I close the door behind me and hear Mum yelling from her room when I get to the kitchen. "WHY ARE YOU RED NOW!?" While I prepare the separate dishes, I prepare in my head the conversation I need to have with Dad and Mum too but only because I know that there's no way I can speak to Dad without Mum around. In the event of an abduction, the aliens will go for the women first letting Dad have ample time to make it to his bunker (a three foot hole in the back garden that Dad promises he will finish but has been filled with rainwater in the meantime). So Dad won't leave his room unless he knows women are around.

My father is the last person I should really be asking for girl advice from but my choices are severely limited. There's the internet but the school and the local library have blocked any kind of inappropriate website that may be of use, (needless to say we don't have a computer at home) and the only other source for help is my one and only friend Tony. He's very tall and thin and his voice hasn't stopped cracking since we were twelve. I let him show me once how he picks up girls every weekend when we both know he's helping his mum at church or singing in the choir.

As I said I only needed to see it once to realise he's worse than my dad at talking to girls. He sauntered into a shop and said "Hello gorgeous, may I please have a boob BOTTLE! BOTTLE OF WATER PLEASE!'' He sprinted out of the store before anyone could say anything.

So that leaves my dad. He thinks that most women are cyborgs of some kind because he can't understand them, but he did get my mum to lie still long enough to create me so he obviously knows more than me and Tony put together.

See, there's this girl. She's new and I don't think she's worked out that who the cool kids are and who are the nerds that no one really knows. At this point I think I still have a chance to introduce myself and make an impression before the football guys do.

Her name is Annie and everyone wants to be her friend or her boyfriend. She oozes the essence of cool. No drama, always calm and will talk to anyone. ANYONE! She has amazing long blonde hair that smells of citrus, cool glasses and her skin is perfect. No makeup and no pimples anywhere, The complete opposite to all the other girls at school. Everyone knows who Annie is.

And that brings us up to date in my predicament and explains why I am going to ask a nervous, sci-fi recluse how to get Annie to go out with me.

I set all the meals on the table when Mum walks in looking drained and pale.  "No luck?" I ask. She just gives me a look that says 'if-I-wasn't-so-tired-you'd-be-dead-by-now'.  "I'll go get Dad." I mutter. "No, I'll go." Mum replies. After an unsuccessful aura session a good yell at Dad usually makes her feel a bit better. I wait to hear her let out her frustrations. "GET OUT HERE NOW!' No knock, just a yell.

I hear the door fling open and Dad comes shuffling into the kitchen wearing the head of his home-made Dalek. Mum quickly follows looking a bit more relaxed.  When they sit I realise I don't know how to start the conversation as Mum and Dad dig into their food.

Mum sees that I'm not eating. "Are you not feeling well? Did you do your emotional meditation today?"
"Mum, would you mind getting your Listening Beads?" I've never asked her to do this so she complies without any questions. When she returns she throws the necklace over at Dad which scatters his peas.
"So, what do you want to talk about?"
"Uh, I actually want to talk to Dad."

Slowly, very, very slowly I take the beads off Dad's plate (Dad is frozen with surprise) and hand them back over to Mum who's looking very confused.

"Dad....please don't freak out at all if you can help it. But I want some advice about a girl."
My mother clutches her necklace, straining the chord so hard her fingers are going red. I decide to carry on.
"There's a new girl who started a two weeks ago and I think she wouldn't laugh at me if I asked her out. I just need to know how. Do you think you could help me?"
"Well I don't know son. How's her Klingon?"
Mum makes a high pitched cry without opening her mouth. The vein in her temple is starting to show.
"No Dad, I mean she's normal. How do I talk to someone normal?"
Dad just looks at me as if he's never heard the word normal. Mum knocks the under side of the table with knee jolting Dad back into the conversation.
"Well I think...this is ah...hmm...ugh...who does..where...where is she from?"
"She's moved over from Cambridge. Her name is Annie."
"NO!" Mum screams slamming her beads onto the table. "I can't take it anymore. Beads or no beads I must speak. Wolfgang, you cannot bring this girl into our house, our lives."
"But Pix, we all have to learn how to initiate a conversation with all species of human being. If not I wouldn't have my Nimoy Appreciation Group to go to. Being a NAG is wonderful, even all the women joining love being a NAG."
"For the last time Eugene, my name is Pixie-Love not Pix! And the moment he said the name Annie I felt awash with anti-mother energy. She is not good news."
"But she's already the highest achiever in my class Mum. Even the teachers are starting to check with her that their facts are right."
Mum takes my face in her hands "My son. My beautiful, soulful son. The tender, succulent fruit of my loins you have to listen to mother! My skin crawled after you said her name and you know what that means don't you?"
"Yes Mum, your spirit levels are unstable."
"They are unstable! It has taken me weeks just to get them to sit next to each other now I have to massage my Mama points to calm them." She stomps off into her bedroom. Dad starts to sweat as he realises there are no women around him.
"She is still in the house Dad," I reassure him "the UFOs will still take her first." He seems to relax a little.
"So what should I say to Annie?"
"Who?"
"The new girl, Dad."
"Oh yes. How's her Klingon?"
"I don't think she knows any."
"Well then if she has big hands you could ask her to come round and finish the bunker."
"She doesn't have big hands. She doesn't know Klingon, anything about Dr. Who, our universe or the Marvel one. She's normal Dad, please try to understand."
"Well, my therapist told me to simply ask about them. Humans love to converse about themselves. Oh! Ask her if she gets that funny rash between her thighs like you do. That might be something you could have in common."
"You still go to that therapist?"
"Of course. He says I'm not crazy, I am just mentally athletic."
"Dad, please don't take this the wrong way. I'm asking you about this because...well you got Mum to be with you long enough to make me. How do I get a girl to stay with me while I'm talking."
"I'm going to be honest with you son. You know you're mother and I met at a Halloween party, she was Gaia and I was Spock. She liked me because she thought I was a good actor."
"You were acting like Spock?"
"No, I was just being me. Soon she wouldn't leave me alone and she pulled me into one of the bedrooms. Everything was a bit of a blur after that. She says that Venus was strong in the sky that night which is what made her particularly aggressive. To be honest I didn't have much say in the matter and before I knew it it was over and she was asleep. I did enjoy it."
At this point I've lost all hope for help from my father. I excuse myself and head off to my room.

Down the hallway I am clutched on the shoulder by my mother who shoves a jam jar filled with what looks like purple vomit into my hands. Its only covered by a layer of thin cling film and a rubber band.
"It's beetle husk son. Wipe it on her every time she's near enough. It will start to cleanse her spirits."
"No thanks Mum." I hand the jar back to her and make a bee line for my bed.

The next morning I'm up and out the door before either parent can say anything. I'd done some thinking on my way to school and thought that maybe Dad did have some good advice: just ask people about themselves. I decide that yes, this is what I will do.

I make my way over to the brick wall by the school entrance to wait for Tony. Leaning against the wall I hear a gentle clink from my bag. I lean back again and again. The clink is still there.  I pull my rucksack off to have a look inside. Before I reach in to take whatever it is out, I notice some familiar blonde hair in my peripheral vision. It's her. Oh God. There she is, two feet in front of me talking to some other girls. Her back is perfect. Can a back be perfect? She is perfect.

My brain manages to reconnect with my arm and I yank the mystery clinking item from my bag just as Tony arrives slapping me on the shoulder, jolting me forward throwing the contents of what I'm holding all down Annie's back.

It's the beetle husk. It had leaped through the thin cling film and was now dripping purple goo down her spine.

She's screaming. Her friends are screaming. People are laughing. People are pointing. I have to stay calm. 1, 2, 3...

"Wolf. Wolf!" Tony exclaims in my ear. "You're counting in Klingon out loud!"
I do the only thing every other person would do. I bolt. I sprint as fast as my little legs will take me down the street with Tony close behind.

"I'M NOT READY FOR GIRLS!" I yell at Tony.
"NO MAN EVER IS!" Tony shouts back.

I think maybe next time...ah, hell. There is never going to be a next time.