C. D. Payne - (Youth In Revolt 4) Revoltingly Young: The Journals of Nick Twisps Younger Brother

Revoltingly Young:

The Journals of Nick Twisps Younger Brother

Book VI: Youth in Nevada

C.D. Payne

copyright 2006 by C.D. Payne

JUNE

SATURDAY, June 18 My cousin Tyler Twisp is visiting Grandma Wescott and me in her dreary singlewide trailer deep in the lonely wastes of Nevada. Tyler loves everything about Winnemucca, just as I, conversely, despise every aspect of my hometown. Of course, he is an immense jock who eats his own weight in grub every three days. Whereas I am a picky-eater flyweight with intellectual and cultural aspirations. Hard to believe my sinewy cousin is only 15, while Ia mere shadow in his wakewill be 16 in December. Strictly speaking, I may in fact be his uncle, since hes the son of my half-sister Joanie. But since it would be silly to have a nephew twice ones size, we prefer to regard each other as cousins.

Nevada prides itself on being the emptiest state in the nation. For example, Winnemucca is situated 165 miles east of Reno and 353 miles west of Salt Lake City. In between stretches a forbidding expanse of barren rock and scrawny sagebrush. Nice country for jackrabbits, but a challenge for any life form higher than a buzzard. If it werent for the Internet, Im sure my mind would have atrophied and died long ago.

Nearly 8,000 rednecks call Winnemucca home, while the population of New York City is over eight million. Therefore, according to the law of averages, my chances of residing in that great metropolis are at least one thousand times better than of moldering in this God-forsaken hole. Yet here I sit in a trailer thats not even within the city limitswith a thrift-shop wardrobe, nothing to do, no place to go, no girlfriend, and $4.37 to my name. Meanwhile, my cousina zealot for clean mountain air and challenging hikesresides in gridlocked L.A. This strikes me as blindingly unfair.

Must stop here. Tyler wants to go over to the high school to shoot some baskets. Wish I had a gun. Id show him how Real Men shoot baskets.

SUNDAY, June 19 Fathers Day. What a nuisance. Grandma Wescott made me call my dadnever a fun prospect. The guy is such a sourpuss. Is it my fault my mother in distant Oakland shot off most of his genitalia? Talk about your worst castration anxieties come true. Never the warmest of dads, hes become even more emotionally distant since my voice changed. He says I sound just like my half-brother Nicka guy he really has it in for. Dont ask me why. Ever mum on my twisted family matters, Grandma says its all water over the dam.

Fortunately, Dad was getting ready to go to work when I called, so our desultory chat was mercifully brief. He works security for an Indian casino in California near Clear Lake. He asked me what I was doing; I said not much. I asked him what he was doing; he said the usual. I asked him if he got my card; he said he only goes to his post office box once a month. I asked him if he was coming to visit; he said maybe at Christmas, but dont get your hopes up. (As if Im pining away to see the big dork, whose support checks arrive here about as often as Halleys Comet.)

I handed over the clammy phone to Tyler, who had a lively 45-minute talk with his pop in Los Angeles, then rang off with the words I love you, Dad. Pretty amazing, especially when you consider that he was speaking to his step father. Maybe thats the secret. Perhaps a kid can have a cordial and loving relationship with his dad as long as theyre not actually related.

Like all Twisps, Tyler is very competitive. We are now into day two of the First Annual Wescott-Twisp Beat Your Meat Contest. Every hour on the hour we retire to the rusty metal shed at the back of the lot and flail away. First guy to fail to get it up and/or produce at least one drop loses. So far, we seem to be fairly evenly matchedexcept, alas, in size. Im extremely jealous of Tylers advantage in that department. Talk about penile overkill. I keep suggesting to Tyler that he is freakishly oversized and will never find a girlfriend to accommodate him, yet he just chuckles and remains anxiety-free as he tucks his massive tool back into his pants. Tyler has promised his mother that he will not have sex until hes 16, so he hasnt actually gone all the way with any of his numerous girlfriends. He just lets them fondle his instrument and practice their fellatio techniques. I should be so lucky. I had one girlfriend back in the sixth grade and never got past some experimental kisses. Consuelas parents objected to her seeing a non-Catholic Anglo and made her break up with me. Rather stupefying. I meandid they imagine we were planning on getting married at age 12 and raising a pack of mixed-race Protestants?

Speaking of child brides, Ive heard rumors that my half-brother Nick was married briefly when he was about my age. Hard to believe. Id ask him if I ever saw him, but he never comes to visit and rarely answers my e-mails. Hes a big-time comic juggler in Las Vegas with a too glamorous and fulfilling life (see People magazine) to bother with poor relations in the sticks. He does send nice Christmas/birthday presents though. Yeah, I was born on December 25, hence my dumb name: Noel Lance Wescott. Remarkably pedestrian I agree, but at least its not Twisp.

MONDAY, June 20 Another sports triumph for Tyler. I was obliged to forfeit this morning. I could still get it up, but the area was too raw and chafed to permit further handling. Tyler and I agree after two and a half days of incessant masturbation we are now manifesting virtually zero interest in sex. A most unusual state for us both. With my luck some cute chick will throw herself at me today and Ill be forced to decline a Golden Opportunity. Have applied some of Grandmas Avon hand cream to my inflamed member and now have the sweetest smelling unit in town.

My friend Carlyle Bogy dropped by with his .22 rifle, and the three of us wandered up the ravine behind the trailer to take turns shooting at anything that moved. I think Tyler may have winged a lizard. Due to his constant twitching Carlyle is probably the worst shot in the state. He has extensive neurological damage from spending his toddler years in his fathers clandestine methamphetamine lab. They also think he has fetal alcohol syndrome from his mother boozing it up. (I learned all this by sneaking a peek at his confidential file back when I was an office volunteer in junior high.) Carlyle lives in a foster home now as both his parents are incarcerated. Hes with his fifth foster family, but hes having better luck with this latest set of hired parents (the Greenes) as theyre pretty progressive and hes mostly worked through his fascination with fire. For a time there he was keeping the Winnemucca fire department on constant alert. Carlyle remains on a first-name basis with all the firemen in town.

Grandma phoned out for pizza later, but she did not invite Carlyle to stay for dinner. It bugs her that Carlyle is always going into our bathroom and helping himself to any pills he finds in the medicine cabinet. Grandma likes to take a nip now and then, but she says she doesnt dare take a drink lest she wake up with a hangover only to find there wasnt an aspirin in the place. We watched a semi-violent video and sewed on spangles. Grandma used to be a beautician, but she got increasingly broad in the beam and could no longer endure all those hours on her diabetic feet. When her sister (Aunt Deb) died, she inherited her sit-down occupation: sewing mail-order outfits for showgirls, strippers, and tap-dancers. This involves endless application of tiny spangles, rhinestones, and beads to shimmering or gauzy fabrics. I help her out sometimes in the evening while we watch TV. Rather tedious, but Grandma pays me 25 cents an hour. Pretty miserable wage, but how many kids can say they get paid to watch TV?

You wouldnt think a big jock like Tyler would be good with a needle and thread, but he approached it as another competition and once again left me in his dust. In three hours he covered the entire bodice of a midget tap-dancers tutu with neat rows of pink sequins. Grandma was so pleased, she gave him a whole dollar.