Castration Celebration

by Jake Wizner

  ALSO BY JAKE WIZNER

  Spanking Shakespeare

  a cognizant original v5 release october 10 2010

  Olivia was sitting on top of her new suitcase in the courtyard of Yale’s Old Campus writing in her notebook. She had scrawled the word CASTRATION on the top of the page and was in the process of listing genital-based rhymes. So far her list read: menstruation, masturbation, elongation, lubrication, penetration, stimulation, fornication, copulation, urination, ejaculation, insemination. She had always had a perverse sense of humor, and it had become even more twisted over the past year as any illusions she had clung to of a happy family had been blown away. “Blown” was of course the operative word, as in, I walked into my father’s office and saw him being blown by one of his graduate students. Such a lovely picture. One to file away to entertain the kids on a rainy day if the Ritalin jar was empty. She leaned back over her notebook and started a new column. Extermination, emasculation, suffocation, asphyxiation …

  Max was walking across the campus courtyard talking on his cell phone and paying scant attention to the world around him. His side of the conversation sounded like this: “I’m telling you, Andy, she was twenty-one and totally smoking. … Dude, we were on a crowded train, how am I supposed to make out with her? I got her phone number, though. … I don’t know. I mean, I’m about to spend the whole summer living in a coed dorm. And besides, she wasn’t very smart. She actually believed I was a sophomore at Yale. … Dude, the only reason you like stupid chicks is because any girl with half a brain won’t go out with you. I’m ready for someone who has some substance, you know, someone with an edge. …”

  BANG!

  Max’s shin hit Olivia’s suitcase, and he toppled forward onto Olivia, who was facing away from him. She pitched forward, he bounced off her back, she dropped her notebook, he dropped his cell phone, and they both cried out in surprise.

  “Jesus,” Olivia said, looking at a sprawled-out Max. “What the hell?”

  Max pushed himself up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”

  Olivia picked up her notebook, stood, and brushed herself off.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “You sure?”

  Olivia looked the boy over. He had that cultivated scruffy look she might have found appealing if he had not just body-slammed her, and if she had not sworn off boys for the more satisfying pursuit of filling up notebooks with rants about infidelity, castration, and patricide. “Yeah,” she said, offering a quick smile. “I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve had any good spinal damage.”

  She was surprisingly attractive, Max realized, in the way smart girls with a sense of humor, red hair, and good skin can be. “How are your kidneys?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said. “Ready to excrete.”

  He laughed and held out his hand. “I’m Max.”

  She paused a moment before shaking it. “Olivia.”

  “Are you here for the summer arts program?”

  “Yeah,” she said, pulling the program ID, attached to a looped blue ribbon, out of her pocket. “I guess I’m supposed to wear this.”

  “Is that so they can keep tabs on us?” Max asked.

  Olivia shrugged. “At least we don’t have to wear electronic ankle bracelets.”

  “Right,” Max said, “because I’m sure a program like this draws some pretty unsavory characters.” He looked over at the registration line across the courtyard and then turned back to Olivia. “So what are you here for?”

  She paused a moment and then said, “Assault with a deadly weapon.”

  “Really,” Max said, laughing. “Who’s the victim?”

  Olivia was unable to suppress a grin. “Believe me, you’re better off not knowing.”

  “Why’s that?”

  She unzipped her book bag and slid her notebook inside. “Trust me on this one.”

  “I’m intrigued,” he said.

  She smiled at him. It was nice to know she could intrigue Demolition Derby Boy so easily. “I’m just trying to protect you,” she said, zipping her bag quickly and getting a little piece of canvas stuck under the teeth of the zipper. “It’s sensitive stuff we’re dealing with here.” She yanked hard, and the zipper came free.

  “I think I can handle it,” Max said.

  “I’m sure you can,” she chuckled. Grabbing her suitcase, she gave Max a long look and then said, “Sorry to cut and run, but I’m going to head up to my room now.”

  “Well,” he said with a grin, “it was nice bumping into you.”

  She rolled her eyes, turned, and walked away.

  Olivia entered her suite to find a Barbie look-alike already there, listening to her iPod and dancing around the common room in impossibly short shorts and a midriff-baring T-shirt. When she spotted Olivia, she smiled hugely and pulled off her headphones. “Oh my God!” she squealed. “I know you. You were right in front of me in line before!”

  “Small world,” Olivia said with a smirk.

  “I’m Mimi,” Barbie said. “We’re the only ones here so far. You want to share a room with me?” She pointed to the bedroom on the left. “It’s a little bigger, I think.”

  Oh God, Olivia thought. She looked toward the bedroom, but did not move.

  “Plus it’s got better feng shooey, because the beds are farther from the door.”

  Feng shooey? Olivia stifled a laugh. Just for the raw material Mimi would provide, maybe it would be worth it to share. And there really was no graceful way to turn down the offer without hurting Mimi’s feelings. “How can I say no to better feng shooey?” Olivia said, beginning to wheel her suitcase to the left.

  Mimi followed her into the room. “How funny is it that we’re roommates and we checked in at exactly the same time? I mean, check-in is all day, so we could have come at any time. It’s like fate, or something, that we ended up roommates, don’t you think?”

  Keep a straight face, Olivia told herself, and don’t say anything too sarcastic. She placed her suitcase flat next to her bed and began to unzip it. Maybe if she didn’t respond, Mimi would stop talking.

  “I mean what are the chances that we’d be right next to each other at registration? Like a million to one, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing I stopped to get drunk on the way here this morning,” Olivia blurted, “or we would have totally missed each other.”

  “Are you serious?” Mimi’s eyes popped wide. “No, you’re kidding.”

  “I probably shouldn’t drink when I’m on so many painkillers, but, hey, it’s summer, right?”

  Mimi’s expression veered from amusement to serious concern, and Olivia burst out laughing.

  “Oh my God!” Mimi squealed. “I totally believed you for a second!”

  Olivia shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m actually a pretty straight arrow. No drinking, no drugs, nothing illegal for me.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” Mimi plopped down on her bed and her voice took on a playful quality. “What about boys?”

  “Definitely none of them,” Olivia said decisively.

  “Get out!” Mimi shrieked. “Have you seen all the hot guys here?”

  Olivia chuckled. Just her luck to get stuck with a nymphomaniac.

  In the same dorm, one floor below, Max was unpacking when a tall, skinny guy with long hair walked into the room, wheeling a huge suitcase, wearing a backpack over one shoulder, and carrying a guitar.

  “Hey,” Max said.

  The guy gave a little nod. “What’s up?”

  “I’m Max.”

  “Zeke.” He dropped the backpack on the empty bed and leaned his guitar against the wall.

  “You here for music?” Max asked.<
br />
  “Yeah.”

  Zeke opened his book bag, fished out a bottle of water, and took a big swig. Then he brushed his hair out of his face and lifted his suitcase onto the bed.

  “You’d think with how much money we’re paying we’d get a bigger room, right?” Max said.

  “At least some air-conditioning.”

  “I know. This room’s like a fucking sauna.”

  “You think any of the rooms have air-conditioning?” Zeke asked.

  “If they do, I’m requesting a transfer. No offense.”

  Max was actually feeling pretty happy about his roommate situation. For all he knew, he might have ended up with a violin prodigy named Vladimir, who practiced eight hours a day and was several years away from either Carnegie Hall or a complete nervous breakdown. Zeke, on the other hand, seemed like the kind of guy who would be up for almost anything. A young Joey Ramone.

  “So,” Max said, pointing to Zeke’s guitar. “What kind of music do you play?”

  Zeke brushed his hair back with his hands. “I don’t know. Mostly my own stuff, I guess.”

  “You in a band?”

  Zeke shook his head. “Used to be.”

  “What happened?”

  Zeke shrugged. “Lead singer kind of dropped out. Band just fell apart after that.”

  Max put on his best TV voice. “They had everything going for them: a hit album, a sold-out concert tour, and a multi-record deal, but behind the scenes, trouble was brewing in paradise. In-fighting and drug abuse were threatening to pull the band apart, and when lead singer …” He reverted to his own voice. “What was your lead singer’s name?”

  Zeke hesitated. “Devin Baines,” he said.

  “And when lead singer Devin Baines overdosed on pain killers just before a sold-out show at Madison Square Garden, it looked like the band’s days were numbered.”

  “You watch too much VH1,” Zeke said, turning away.

  “Probably,” Max agreed.

  Zeke unzipped his suitcase, took out an iPod dock, and put it on the shelf of his desk. “You can use this,” he said, plugging it in, “but no Celine Dion when I’m in the room.”

  * * *

  Upstairs in Olivia and Mimi’s suite, the two remaining girls—Trish and Callie—had arrived, and the foursome was complete. At the moment, they were sitting two and two on the couches in the common room, and Mimi was gushing over Callie’s short, spiky hair and the multiple studs in each ear.

  “It’s like so punk rock, you know. Do boys like that?”

  Callie seemed mildly amused. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never asked them.”

  “Do you think I’d look good with short hair?” Mimi pulled her hair up and bunched it against the back of her head.

  “With your body, you’d look good bald,” Trish said, folding her arms across her stomach.

  “Shut up,” Mimi said delightedly. She jumped up and bounded into the bedroom to look in a mirror. A few seconds passed, and then she called, “What’s everyone wearing to dinner tonight?”

  Olivia threw a knowing smile at Trish and Callie. “Pretty spectacular, isn’t she?”

  Callie rolled her eyes.

  “I wasn’t planning to change,” Trish said, as Mimi walked back into the room.

  Olivia feigned shock. “You’re going to wear jeans and an oversize Yale T-shirt? With all the cute boys here?”

  Trish shrugged. “Why, what are you wearing?”

  Olivia thought for a moment. “I was thinking about a miniskirt, fishnets, and”—she snapped her fingers—“some white cowboy boots.”

  Callie nodded. “Now that’s fierce.”

  “With a dark green halter to go with your red hair,” Mimi said. “Oh my God, that would be adorable.”

  Trish shook her head. “With your body you can get away with it. I need clothes that cover as much of my fat as possible.”

  “You are so not fat,” Mimi said.

  “Well, I doubt any boys are going to be looking at me anyway if I’m sitting with the three of you.”

  “Oh my God, that’s so not true,” Mimi said. She turned to the other girls. “Don’t you think Trish is like so pretty? Look at that perfect button nose.”

  “Plus you’ve got the biggest boobs,” Callie said.

  Trish laughed.

  “And I’m not interested in boys, anyway,” Olivia said.

  Callie turned and stared hard at her.

  “She’s crazy,” Mimi said.

  “Actually, I’m not into them, either,” Callie said. She smiled at Olivia, and Olivia smiled back.

  “I am,” Trish said. “They’re just not into me.”

  “Wait,” Mimi said, turning to Callie. “You don’t like boys, either?” She looked genuinely perplexed. “Why not?”

  Olivia giggled. This was going to be good.

  “I like girls,” Callie said matter-of-factly.

  Mimi’s eyes popped wide. “You’re gay?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Why would we have a problem with it?” Olivia said.

  “Oh my God,” Mimi said, turning to Olivia. “Are you gay, too?”

  Olivia laughed and shook her head. “No. I just have some penis issues to work out.”

  * * *

  “It was unbelievable,” Max said. “I mean, after I crashed into her, our eyes just locked, and my skin started to tingle, and it was like we had this connection. Like we were totally locked into each other and everything around us just melted away, you know?”

  Zeke picked up his guitar and unzipped the case.

  “It was weird, man. I mean, she’s good-looking and all, but it wasn’t her looks, it was more the way she looked at me. Like she was sizing me up or something. That’s the way the whole thing felt when we were talking, too. Like she knew something I didn’t know and was daring me to guess.”

  “Huh,” Zeke said, beginning to tune his guitar.

  Max plunged on, barely registering Zeke’s lack of interest. “I mean, I’ve gone out with girls who were prettier than her, but no one who was that quick. You know what she said? When I asked her why she was here, you know like for acting or music, she said she was here for assault with a deadly weapon. That’s funny, right?”

  “Hilarious.”

  “I’m telling you,” Max said. “Just talking to her was a totally exhilarating experience. She’s just got this edge, you know. I like girls who are edgy.”

  Zeke strummed a few chords and looked up. “I like girls who are naked.”

  Max smiled. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “You’re writing a musical about castration?” Trish said in disbelief. “That’s hysterical.”

  Callie nodded approvingly. “It’s long overdue.”

  “Hello, am I like in The Twilight Zone or something?” Mimi asked, looking up from the floor where she was applying a fresh coat of red nail polish to her toenails. “Why does everyone here hate penises so much?”

  “Technically, it’s not the penis I’m cutting off. It’s the testicles.”

  “Really?” Trish said. “I always thought castration meant cutting off the penis.”

  “You know,” Callie said, “in Imperial China, to become a eunuch, you had to have your testicles, penis, and scrotum removed.”

  Mimi scrunched up her face. “Ewww.”

  “And then the eunuch would preserve them in alcohol so they could be buried with him when he died, and he would be reborn with all his parts intact.”

  “I don’t get it,” Mimi said. “If he wants it all back, why cut it off in the first place?”

  “You know what would be cool?” Olivia said. “You know how toy stores have doctor kits for kids to play with? What if they sold miniature castration kits?”

  Callie laughed. “I mutilated most of my dolls anyway.”

  “There you go,” Olivia continued. “And it could come with detachable genitalia, and a little jar to store the testicles in.”

  “And a knif
e to do the cutting,” Callie added.

  “Can we please talk about something else?” Mimi pleaded.

  “It’s a great idea,” Trish said. “You could mass-produce them in China, since it’s kind of their thing anyway. Except you’d probably get lead in the balls.”

  “You know,” Olivia said, “you could actually put out a whole series of genital-related toys.” Her cell phone rang in the bedroom and she jumped up. “Like how about the do-it-yourself circumcision kit?” she said, hurrying into the other room.

  Grabbing her phone, she looked at the caller ID and sighed. Why were they calling already? The whole point of going away for the summer was to be away. She’d have to establish some ground rules.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said. “I can’t really talk right now….” She hovered in the doorway. “Everything’s good. Tell Lucy I’ll call her.” She hung up just in time to hear Trish say, “Bikini-waxing Barbie, with detachable pubic hair.”

  Olivia clapped as she returned to the couch. “Brilliant. A few more, and we can go into business.”

  “Menstruating Mandy,” Callie said. “Wind her up and watch her squirt.”

  “Ewww,” Mimi said as the other girls burst into laughter.

  “What time is dinner?” Max asked. “I’m starving.”

  “I don’t know. Six, I think.”

  “Man, I’ve hardly eaten anything all day. You didn’t bring any food, did you?”

  Zeke dug his hand into his pocket. “I think I’ve got some Tic Tacs.”

  “I’ll take anything.”

  Zeke was still digging. “I thought I had some.” He unzipped an outside pocket of his book bag and pulled out the contents.

  “Are those rolling papers?” Max asked, reaching out and picking up a small flat cardboard package.

  “Oh, yeah,” Zeke said as noncommittally as possible.

  “Did you bring any dope?” Max asked excitedly.

  Zeke looked up and smiled. “You like to smoke?”

  “Hell, yeah. Did you bring anything?”

  Zeke shrugged. “I might have a little something.”

  “Sweet,” Max said. “Let me see?”

  Zeke unzipped an inside pocket of his book bag, pulled out a baggie, and handed it to Max.