Excerpt: How Far We've Come

Pardon my vulgarity. I was raised in a barn. Not really. A story I like to tell. Yet, why lie to you now? I have nothing to hide from you, my compatriots, my lovers. Would you resist if I poured on the charm? Could you? I'm a talented boy. Have been since I first knew how to dig my heels in and ride a filly to release. But you knew that already, didn't you? They've told you who I am, what I do. You know me—think you know me. I'm the evil that grows in the dark while you sleep soundly in your four-poster beds after a sweet peck—the afternoon delight wore him out—from your spouse and your kiddies are tucked away dreaming of sugar pops.

Granted, I'm not the guy you want to leave to babysit your pretty pumpkin pies while you go out for dinner on the town to drink your clean martinis and forget your troubles. Those debts piling high, mommy and daddy—separated now—in retirement communities, little Jessie who wets the bed, how to afford the trip to Disneyverse with college approaching so swiftly. Law school tuition is such a bitch. Maybe that stripping job would have worked out after all. Alas, what's done is done. You can't will an earthworm into a diamondback. As much as you might want to do so.

I met her when I was a boy, though I pretended not to remember that fact until after. After what?, you ask. You do, don't you? It's only polite. And you're nothing if not well-mannered. Too bad you can't pay my tab, for I know you would. American Express, no doubt. Platinum Miles Card, perhaps, poking a hole in your pocket. Place it down and I'll give you everything you want and more. I'm for hire to be used at will. That's something you should know before we delve any deeper, pursue this relationship further. I know my position in this, your, world. I have no delusions of grandeur, no aspirations to greatness. I was born nothing, I achieved nothing, and I had nothing of worth thrust upon me. Well, perhaps with one exception: Caroline. Sweet Caroline.

And a hush falls over the crowd. Yes, I mentioned her name. That doesn't imply my guilt. All it proves is a tangible connection between the two of us. Solid like her lips upon skin, like the thickness of her oils upon glass. She drew me a picture of water meeting sky, clouds disparate and fishies smiling. When I first knew her, when our worries consisted of which color crayon to use and who would give us quarters for the corner store goodies. I walked with her, our hands intertwined, swinging in the warm summer air.