Frankie Spies Royo Girl
“Dog 11, you’ve gotta visit.”
It’s been eight days since I saw Royo Girl, I thought. Enough time to shake my infatuation. I can feel the excitement building again. But there’s no point in getting too excited when I’m stuck in here.
Walking to visitation, I was stopped by Frankie.
“Where do you think you’re goin’, Englandman?”
“Whattcha got crackalackin at visitation?”
“It’s kiss time again.”
“I thought I told you, I’ll dee-cide who you kiss and who you don’t kiss.”
“You’ve got it wrong, I’ll dee-cide who I kiss and who I don’t kiss!”
Frankie’s entourage laughed at my imitation of Frankie.
“I’ll tell you what, Englandman,” Frankie said. “I’m gonna do laps around the big field. If you guys walk Lovers' Lane, I’ll be able to scope her out, and then I can see if she has my approval.”
“I’ll dee-cide whose approval she needs or doesn’t need,” I said and walked away.
My heart leaped when I saw Royo Girl. We hugged, kissed, and sat down. While she busied my prefrontal cortex with intelligent conversation, I became so enchanted that she needn't have said a word. She could have sat there in silence and I still would have been the happiest person in the world.
Outdoors, Frankie and his crew, reconnoitering the visitation for Royo Girl, eventually spotted us holding hands on Lovers' Lane.
“I’m givin’ ya,” Frankie yelled, “a thumbs-up, Englandman. But I still wanna bathin’-suit shot…no…let’s make that a G-string shot. I’m also gonna need a letter from her askin’ for permission for any more kisses.”
“That’s Frankie,” I told Royo Girl. “But I can’t yell to him from visitation because I’ll get in trouble. I think he approves of you.”
Royo Girl laughed.
“Did Englandman tell you,” Frankie said, “we’ve been doin’ these tongue exercises together? I showed him how to kiss you behind the neck with my magic tongue. Ask him how Frankie tastes?”
“I worry about you and Frankie sometimes,” Royo Girl said.
“He’s bonkers. But he’s got a good heart,” I said.
“Mmmm-mmmm-mmmmmm! Englandman knows what time it is!”
“What time it is!” Royo Girl frowned. “What does that mean?”
“That I’ve got it going on because I’m with you.”
“How funny,” Royo Girl said. “Why do I feel like I’m being paraded around prison?”
“I can’t deny there’s an element of that to Lovers' Lane. You don’t mind do you?”
“No. It just feels strange.”
“There’s Xena.” I pointed. “She’s the long-haired giant playing volleyball with tattoos all over her body.”
“Xena’s my favourite blog character,” Royo Girl said.
We eavesdropped on the volleyball players.
“Come on, Miss Priss,” Little Wood said to Xena, “hit the ball. Dontcha like playin’ with balls?”
“That’s fuckin’ queer stuff,” Xena said.
“You’re a fuckin’ queer,” someone yelled.
Xena yanked up his shorts and wiggled his hips, revealing his enormous penis (with a tattoo of a wasp on it) to the players. Xena yelled, “Queer this!”
“Are they the balls you practice on?” Little Wood said.
“Come to a cell with me,” Xena said, “and I’ll show ya how to hold balls. The only difference is mine are hot and sweaty.”
Royo Girl's hand was sweating, so I suggested we go indoors.
Our parting kiss was longer than the others. And more passionate. It left me hungry for her next visit.
The visit was fun, I thought, and I'm all excited again. So much for keeping cool. She’s so intelligent and charming and I feel so good around her. Why can't I feel like this all of the time? I'd better just make the most of it while it lasts.
Descriptions of Royo Girl were circulating on the yard. Some young homies approached me.
“That’s Big Pimpin right there.”
“A fine-ass ruca’s been comin’ to see him.” ( ruca is pronounced rookah.)
“Big Pimpin’s no joke, homey. You shoulda seen him mackin’ out with his ruca.”
“You’ve got it like that Big Pimpin?”
“I’m working on it,” I said.
“Englandman’s mine,” Frankie said, “and he knows he is.”
“I’ll dee-cide whose I am,” I said, “and its gonna be a ruca I get together with, not a guy.”
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Copyright © 2005-2006 Shaun P. Attwood