The summer was almost over anyway. What did Alice and Leslie Oastler care if Emma and Jack beat each other up at the Bathurst Street gym all day? (Not that Jack ever "beat up" Emma, but he succeeded with a shot or two.)
"It's just hormones, in Emma's case," Mrs. Oastler said. In Alice's mind, Jack was still about the business of learning how to defend himself from boys.
In two weeks, Emma had lost twelve pounds--and it was clear that she would lose more. It wasn't just the workouts; her eating habits had changed. She liked Chenko. "Everything but his ears." With the exception of their ears, Emma liked Boris and Pavel, too.
When Jack lay next to Emma in her bed, or when she held him in her arms in his, it pained him to ask her who she was going to work out with--he meant after he had gone to Maine.
"Oh, I daresay I'll find someone else I can beat the shit out of, baby cakes."
Jack had learned how to kiss her and keep breathing, although the temptation to hold his breath until he fainted was strong. And Emma's attention to the little guy never wavered; true to her word, his penis had healed. A combination of the moisturizer, which Emma continued to apply to the little guy--long after Jack could discern any visible need for it--and the welcome cessation of Mrs. Machado's attention to his penis, which evidently had been excessive.
"Do you miss her, Jack?" Emma asked him one night. He had been thinking that he missed some of the things Mrs. Machado did, but not that he missed her. He felt awkward telling Emma about the things he missed. Jack didn't want her to feel that he was ungrateful to her for saving him from Mrs. Machado. But they were true friends and workout partners. Emma understood him. "It sounds like you were excited but frightened," Emma said.
"Yes."
"I shudder to think what kind of trouble the little guy can get into in Maine," Emma said.
"What do you mean, Emma?"
They were in her room. Emma had a king-size bed, if you didn't count the stuffed animals. Jack was wearing just his boxers, and Emma was wearing a T-shirt that Pavel or Boris had given her. It was from a wrestling tournament in Tbilisi, but you had to be able to read Georgian to know where it was from; more to Emma's liking, the T-shirt was faded and torn and it had old bloodstains on it.
"Take off your boxers, honey pie." Emma was removing her T-shirt under the covers, which created a little chaos among the stuffed animals. "I'm going to show you how not to get in trouble, Jack." She took his hand and placed it on his penis. "Use your other hand, if you prefer," Emma told him. "Just do whatever's comfortable."
"Comfortable?"
"Just beat off, Jack! You can do that, can't you?"
"Beat what?"
"Don't tell me this is your first time, honey pie."
"It's my first time," he admitted.
"Well, take your time--you'll get the hang of it," Emma told him. "You can kiss me, or touch me with your other hand. Just do something, Jack--for Christ's sake!"
Jack was trying. At least he wasn't frightened. "I think my left hand works better," he told her, "even though I'm right-handed."
"It's not as complicated as a Russian arm-tie," Emma said. "We don't have to discuss it."
He hugged her as hard as he could--she was so strong, so solid. When she kissed him, Jack remembered to breathe--at least at the beginning. "I think it's working," he said.
"Try not to make a mess all over the place, baby cakes," Emma said. "I'm just kidding," she quickly added.
It was becoming difficult to kiss her and keep breathing--not to mention talk. "What exactly are we doing? What is this?" he asked Emma.
"This is how you survive Maine," Emma told him.
"But you won't be there!" he cried.
"You have to imagine me, baby cakes, or I'll send you pictures." Oh, that aurora borealis--those northern lights! "Well, if that isn't 'all over the place,' I don't know what is," Emma was saying, while Jack practiced breathing again. "Just look at this mess. I never want to hear you say I don't love you."
"I love you, Emma," the boy blurted out.
"You don't have to make a commitment or anything," Emma said. "That you're my best friend is enough of a miracle."
"I'm going to miss you!" Jack cried.
"Shhh, don't cry--they'll hear you. Don't give them the satisfaction."