David Halliday - The Hole

“You ever hear of a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses who disappeared in these parts?” the giant asked.

Joe shook his head.

The rough beast nodded, turned, and slouched toward the Six Points.

“ ‘The snow twisted and curled around his feet, throwing the young boy onto his back. Each time he tried to lift the bag of newspapers onto his shoulders the weight of the bag threw him off balance and the icy sidewalk threw him back on the ground.’ ”

“That’s you?” Cathy said, stretching her naked body out on the bed, her breasts swaying to one side as she reached for a cigarette on the bedside table. Cathy’s skin was pale, colored in spots with blotchy pink rashes, her body still retaining the plumpness of childhood while await-ing the voluptuousness of middle age.

“Ya,” Terry responded, smoke rising up into the blond curls that dangled down his forehead. “Did you figure that out all by yourself?” Butting out his cigarette, Terry sat up in the bed, his thin caved chest 12 hairless and his skin yellow like wet putty. A sheet was loosely draped over his bare midsection.

He continued, “ ‘The snow was coming down so hard it seemed as if the young boy operated inside a white bag. And then from outside the curtain of snow that fell over him, he heard a laugh. A great bellowing laugh. A roar.’ ”

Cathy slid over on her side, perpendicular to Terry, her head in his lap. She sucked on a cigarette, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

“ ‘The boy looked around.’ ”

“Why do you have to speak in the third person?” Cathy asked, two horns of smoke rising out of her nostrils.

Terry continued, ignoring her remark. “ ‘Between the curtains of snow, a large black face hovered. The boy almost swallowed his tongue.

He’d never seen a black person before. The rest of the figure emerged.

He was huge, a giant of a man-if indeed he was a man.

“ ‘ “Having some problems?” the large black man asked.

“ ‘ “I…” the boy began to respond.’

“Quit playing with my cock!” Terry barked at Cathy.

Cathy removed her hand from between Terry’s thighs and sucked peevishly on her cigarette. She muttered, “It didn’t bother you before.”

“We can fuck later,” Terry said. “I’d like to read this.” Terry took a deep breath. “I thought he was God,” Terry said.

“You thought a black man was God?”

Terry nodded and continued.

“ ‘The great black man lifted the bag of newspapers off the boy as he helped him to his feet. Then he helped the boy place the bag over his shoulders and sent him on his way. As the boy walked off into the distance, the black figure once again slid behind the curtain of snow. But still, through the snow and wind, the boy could hear the giant’s laughter.’ ”

“Why did you think he was God?” Cathy wondered when Terry’s mother would show up. “Sounds more like the grim reaper.”

“Something about him,” Terry replied. “Something bigger than life.”

“I don’t get it.” Cathy turned her head, her cigarette only inches away from Terry’s penis. She thought that if she concentrated she could make it stand up. “What’s a black guy doing out in the middle of a snowstorm?”

Terry sighed. “That’s the point, stupid!”

“Don’t call me stupid! I got an A in biology. What did you get, smart-ass?”

“Look, Cathy, there weren’t any black people living around here at the time. I mean none. The only black people I ever saw were the natives in the Tarzan movies. It was like this guy appeared out of nowhere. It was like he wasn’t real. A mirage.”

“You said that this was a true story,” Cathy pleaded.

“It was true. A big black guy did appear in the middle of a snowstorm while I was getting my papers. It was so weird. I never saw him again.”

“Never?”

Cathy passed her cigarette to Terry, who drew on it lightly. She blew smoke toward Terry’s penis that now rose beneath its tent.

“Never! I asked around. My friends thought I was nuts. Nobody had ever heard of any blacks living in the area. I figured he had to be God.

Anyway, I think it works for the story.”

Cathy shook her head.

“There are no giants.”

“I was a kid. He was huge. When someone is almost twice your size, he’s a giant.”

“Did you make this up or did it really happen? You’re always making stuff up, Terry. I never know what to believe.” Terry passed the cigarette back to Cathy.

“That’s exactly the way it happened. You can believe it or not. I don’t give a shit. It happened and it stuck in my head.”

“One more thing,” Cathy added, “God isn’t colored.”

“Why not?”

Cathy was silent for some moments. Terry stared up at the ceiling, smoke slipping out of his mouth in halos. Cathy didn’t want to disturb him when he was drifting off. It pissed him off. She wondered if she could make Terry come if she concentrated enough.

“It may have happened. Okay, it did happen exactly the way you said, but no one is going to believe that some dude who looked like Isaac Hayes appeared to you in a snowstorm. You can make him a huge guy dressed in solid black and forget about the color of his skin. Then it’s more believable.”

“But that isn’t the way it happened.” Terry sulked. He took Cathy’s cigarette and sucked on it. Why did she have to be so picky? “You think it would be better that way?”

Cathy nodded. Terry thought about it for some time. For a while Cathy remained silent before she asked Terry a question.

“Do you think I’m fat?” Cathy looked over her body.

“No,” Terry was getting very annoyed. “Why do girls always think that they’re fat?”

Cathy was silent. She was about to ask Terry if some other girl had asked him the question.

“Do you think I’m a slut?”

“What?” Terry thoughtlessly combed Cathy’s hair with his fingers. He was thinking about his story. Cathy repeated her question.

“I hate that word-slut,” he responded.

“Ya, but boys use it, don’t they?”

“Well, I don’t,” Terry said. “And if I did, I wouldn’t say it about you.”

“I don’t know.” Cathy sighed, retrieving her cigarette from Terry.

“Sometimes I think I’m some kind of freak.”

“Everybody feels that way. Only the real freaks think they’re normal.” Cathy was quiet for a moment before she sat up and butted her cigarette out in the nearby ashtray.

“Do you think it’s natural to like sex so much?” she said, rolling over and kissing Terry on the stomach, then adding, “for a girl, I mean.” Terry laughed. “How would I know?” He placed the sheets of paper on the nearby table. His erect penis slipped from the sheet into the open air.

“Don’t your friends talk about girls?” Cathy asked, looking indifferently now at his penis.

“Sure, but what do they know? Anyway, you can’t believe anything those idiots say. Wiggy complains that when he gets an erection it doesn’t go away for hours. He skipped school one day because he couldn’t get the thing to lay down flat.”

“You’re kidding,” Cathy said with a giggle, her fingers playing with Terry’s pubic hairs.

“Hard in his hands for hours,” Terry responded, rubbing the palm of his hand over one of Cathy’s nipples. “The guy is full of shit. Him and Frank are still virgins, but they won’t admit it. Well, Wiggy won’t admit it. Do you think your mom likes being with your dad?” Cathy screwed up her face. “I don’t even like to think about it. Besides, they’re always yelling at each other. I wouldn’t blame my dad if he was screwing around on my mom. She is such a bitch! How about your mom? She always seems to have a new boyfriend.”