Jimmy O’Grande versus the FWB (Fish Witch Bitch): The Lakeside Fairy Tales: Volume Three

By Doc Mingo

Jimmy and Leo were a match blessed by The Angel of Fate. Two beautiful young men were laying naked under the sun by the shores of Lake Getchie one day long ago, about to seal a deal of perfect love. But instead of sharing a love that was meant to be, a demon fish swam along and came between them. It’s a tragedy when innocents don’t know well enough to be wary of deals with cloaked demons, for the devil’s blessings are always curses in disguise. In a moment of youthful naïveté, Jimmy is fooled into thinking he is a hero and saved the devil in disguise, and thus he had earned himself a charm reward from the demon fish. A powerful magic charm is given to him that makes everyone who looks into Jimmy’s eyes love him. And the more that everyone looked, the more that they loved Jimmy.

Is there ever such an easy path that can be taken that skips over the hard work needed to create anything of truly lasting value? Is it possible that all that glitters is not gold? Can such a thing as easy love ever be a blessing? Or is love come easy always destined to be a road to ruin? Leo out of love and loyalty becomes trapped in a closet of secret love as Jimmy’s life long best friend and manager. And so the lucky demon fish ends up having captured two souls for the magical price of one.

Will Leo’s love and loyalty prove stronger than the glitter of golden promises of easy love and riches? Or will the demon fish steal away the blessings of love bestowed upon the two boys by the Angel of Fate, and mock the heavens that seem to shun her? In this life and death struggle between good and evil, who shall live and who shall die?

In the third volume of this illustrated series ‘The Lakeside Fairy Tales,’ we explore more of the Boystown Chicago parallel universe of ‘Center City’ through the lives and loves of her diverse community. Come share another story with me about a new love, and catch up with all of the characters from the series as all their lives and loves mix and swirl and flow together I each new story. All of them just like us, for are we not one and all but leaves in the stream? Stirred and whirled by the magic of the cosmos that reigns supreme in the vast eternal waters of The Great Lake. Come let me tell you a fairy tale and convince you that the magic of the cosmos is alive and real and in each and everyone of us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Dec 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665753142

Doc Mingo

I am so pleased to be able to include my pictures and drawings along with my stories. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then surely these pics are good at saving space! Besides, what fun is a story book time if there are no pictures to go with the tale? Why, that’s like cookies without milk! I would never sink so low! The people I draw come from my life, and the images and important relationships in my life. I take joy from brining my sketch book all around Boystown and Chicago. If ‘Center City’ seems familiar, and if you have spent any time in Chicago, now you know why. In all my drawings I use simple pencils, paper and crayons. From the most basic of ingredients, I hope you enjoy the flavors and colors I cook up and make for you. And I hope you are pleased by my efforts to make you pictures to go with my Fairy Tale story books. This is the humble art of a humble man. Forgive me that I know well that they are creations that are far from perfect companions for my flawed love stories. But, since it is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness, I hope you will enjoy them along with my stories just the same. I beg of you to forgive my hope and audacity to think that you will find these pictures I draw for you better than just leaving a nothing void of a blank page. It seems like such a waste of paper and space no to try and fill it up nicely for you all. Milk for your cookies is what these pictures are. Forgive the frail ego and the clumsy hand. My heart and hand meant well.

Book preview

Copyright © 2024 Doc Mingo.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-5313-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-5314-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023922283

Archway Publishing rev. date: 12/11/2023

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Throw Down August, 2023. Chicago.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

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Coffee in Bed January, 2023. Chicago.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

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For my Archangels

Mikhaella and Gabrielle

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With love and thanks to my

Honey Bear Richie

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Catfish Days January, 2022. Wilmington, Illinois.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

Salutation

Dear Friend,

Thank for you kind and generous consideration in coming to spend some time with me today. As always, please remember my intent is to do no harm with my efforts. I mean only to entertain and tell my stories to you.

As my series The Lakeside Fairy Tales rolls out sequentially, people ask me lots of questions. There are no bad questions in my book. But that’s for questions. As far as answers are concerned, I do think that the generally bad answers are the ones that don’t lead to better questions down he road. Dead ends are rotten journeys. And questions are all about the journey, not the destination.

Were Socrates to advise me as to which questions should peak the most interest in me as the teacher, his advice to us all down through the ages has always been simple: To thine own self be true. Like with all good advice it’s easy to give, but not always easy to follow.

So in the dive to the root I always come back to the basic personal questions I keep hearing on repeat that resonate the most with me. Mostly because in my heart I don’t have a complete answer to the important questions. So like Socrates would advise, let me answer some important questions with another question as a poorly disguised deflection.

On the most basic level, people ask me the most obvious things bluntly: ‘Why do you write art-lit in the form of illustrated gay love stories? Who are these stories really about? Where do you get all your ideas? Are you writing about what you know personally? What lessons would you yourself take from your own stories?’

Such a great set of questions that come so close the the core of a person and come right at any of us must be answered somehow. You can’t let a direct body blow to the solar plexus go unanswered. You just can’t do it. The reflex to respond is automatic. For each of us when we get dealt a question that spot-on, we must at the first pass act according to our instincts. And to be Socratic, I will dodge that great question with yet another question. And to be a teacher, I shall explain my answer with a little story.

In one of humanity’s greatest books, we are told of a story so important that they speak of it three times: Once in the Gospels according to Matthew, once again in the Book of Kings, and of course most of all in the book named for its hero, Jonah.

Every High Holidays, and in liturgical calendars all around the world the Jonah tale is told and retold in stories as varied as Pinocchio, The Epic of Gilgamesh, The Inferno, and Alice in Wonderland. We keep hearing of people getting swallowed up and being stuck in a hell. A place with no way out. Each of the supposed victims of a grand tale is first consumed, and then spit out. And in each of those stories we hear echoes of an ancient tale of a simple man. A commoner with a lisp and not very smart or brave. We often hear the refrains in all those many, many stories in our archetypal story of a man named Jonah of Gath.

Jonah, so the story goes, was a simple fisherman. Meaning he had almost nothing but for what he could catch and eat each day as he scavenged off the wilds of the lakes and rivers of Canan. Poor. Stupid. Not very brave or strong. With a lisp. No wife. No children. Just sort of barely getting by. He had 99 problems, and being a hero wasn’t one of them.

Jonah was doing his best to barely survive when he was suddenly told by God what he must do. God made it known to Jonah that he was pissed-off. Wicked pissed-off. And wicked pissed-off at the wicked ways of Nineveh. The King there was being a real jerk, and being way to bossy and overbearing. He ruled over a vast empire from his throne in Nineveh. And in the cruelty of the King’s elites and nobles, were oppressing Jonah’s people, and a lot of other subjugated and oppressed tribes and races’ ability to live and pray in their own homes how they wanted to. The King just made it impossible for many to live with any kind of justice and be faithful to their own belief in the right thing to do.

God told Jonah to go and tell the King to either apologize for being a jerk and let people have at least some freedoms, or God would destroy the whole city and it would all be the King’s fault.

Jonah didn’t care about politics. He was too poor and hungry. He just wanted to try and catch fish and get by. The last thing he needed was more work. And it was quite a ways to walk to Nineveh. The city itself was a good three days across. And Jonah couldn’t afford anything besides walking. So being asked to drop what little he had and go march off to the King in far off Nineveh seemed like a very, very hard way to commit suicide. A wicked long run for a very short slide into a very sharp sword.

Jonah was not only full of fear and doubt. He was kind of angry, too. ‘Why me?’ he wondered. There’s no way this big unhappy task should ‘be poor Jonah’s job?’ he thought.

Jonah tried to deny what he knew to be true. Tried to hide from it. He went under his pillow. He hid down under the sheets. He scrunched up under the bed. He ran from home. And came back to home. But no matter what he did, he could not escape the truth that he knew to be truth itself. Not just his truth mind you. Jonah had a message to give. And it wasn’t just his message. He didn’t want his message to be true, but he could not deny the message. It rang in his head day and night. Sometimes just a whisper. Sometimes loud as thunder. Booms and reverbs to the max. Dolby surround with all the shaking furniture.

Finally Jonah hid in the closet. It was his hope to escape the truth and hide there and keep it quietly to himself all the rest of his days. He did not want to go to Nineveh. He did not want to tell the King that bad things would come to them if they kept denying the truth. He did not want to tell the King there that his selfish and wicked ways would destroy the city and the people if he did not stop. Jonah knew that massage would not be met with thanks, but more likely the tip of a sword at his throat. No matter how true the message, Jonah begged and pleaded with God for a better, wiser, stronger, more worthy person to come instead to carry such a message, not poor little old Jonah. Jonah just hid in the closet. He covered his ears. He just cowered and scrunched up as tightly as he could.

But even in the closet there was no peace.

You see, God chooses his messengers. We do not tell the Fates what to do. They tell us. Jonah feared if he spoke they would laugh at his speech, his sloppy tongue, his commoners’ dialect. Surely a scribe should give such messages. A nobleman. A rabbi or even the head of the Sanhedrin maybe, but not poor, stupid, miserable Jonah. Why should he with so little be called to sacrifice for a futile message to be such an unwelcome messenger when so many better, richer, more powerful men weren’t called to stand up?

God saw that Jonah was full of fear and doubt. God saw that Jonah would run, but only until he could run no farther. So although it seemed like a curse, God sent a Great Fish to Jonah. And while Jonah was trying to escape the truth by rowing a little fishing boat as fast as he could, he got caught by that Great Fish eventually. The fish was relentless and big, and Jonah was frail and small. The mighty whale swallowed him up whole. It shut out all the world for Jonah. No light. No air. Only the truth and Jonah were stuck in that big fish’s belly.

But the Great Fish was not hungry for meat that day, lucky for Jonah. God sent the Great Fish to do Jonah a favor. It was not hunger that drove the beast that day. The Whale swam with Jonah in his belly and in so doing made it very, very clear to Jonah that he had only two choices: He could either keep the truth a secret and die in the belly of that Great Fish, or he could do what he was called upon to do, and speak the truth. His truth it was, yes. But it was not for him alone he was called forth to speak.

When Jonah finally had the courage to open his mouth, he had eloquence. He knew it wasn’t for his sake the words came out. He just opened his mouth and let the truth do the talking.

When Jonah spoke to the King, wouldn’t you know he was pretty convincing. The King got right on down off of that big high throne. He took off his fancy golden crown full of big shiny jewels. He dropped his fine robes like a bad habit. And ordered old burlap bags and sack cloth and rags from the garbage be his clothes instead. He got down off of that thrown, descended from the dais, and got on his knees before Jonah. He felt it was not Jonah he was kneeling to, mind you. It was the truth he bowed to, you see. The truth was that the King was mean and selfish and cruel. His whole empire was just institutionalized oppression and cruelty for the sake of the King above all others. And the truth was that is is flat out wrong to be such a ruler for every King. And it’s wrong for every commoner too, for that matter.

That truth was far bigger than Jonah. And when Jonah had the faith to open his mouth and let the truth come out, good things happened for everyone.

The King ordered everyone in the Kingdom to instead wear no fancy clothes, but only rags to show their sorrow and for their selfish greed and insensitivity. And do penance to atone and be humble before the judgement of history. And the King decreed that all in his lands sit on no furniture. Only sit in the dirt. And the same for all the animals. No food. No water. Just sit and be sorry and ask for a second chance from God. Nobody was asking Jonah for anything. It wasn’t Jonah that was the issue at all. It was the message. Never confuse message with messenger. Truth doesn’t belong to one mouth and it’s certainly not for only one ear.

And because Jonah spoke truth to power, change came. And the city was spared. Because the message is that when you speak the truth the harsh decree of fate is tempered. Somehow that must be true, or else why keep telling that story over and over again regardless if the story is true, or God is real? If we need it to be true badly enough, we make it true ourselves in the end then, don’t we?

Aren’t we all disappointed as brats to learn there is no Santa, and then to learn as parents and grandparents that there most certainly is a Santa Claus. And he is us.

Santa is real because we are real, after all.

Love makes humans grow wings and turn into the angels we all seek.

In the end, Angels are real. And so is God. Because we ourselves are real.

So why do I write these stories? Where do they come from? Are they a truth? Are they my truth? For who’s benefit do I tell these stories?

Well, like I said, I deflect to answer a question with a question.

Ignore Jonah. Ignore the truth. Doubt the messenger. Refute the message.

That is your right. And I respect your rights.

But I also am your brother, and I love you.

Hear me well then only when I tell you this: Do not let a whale swallow you whole before you find the courage to stand up for yourself and speak your truth. And when you do it, don’t let it be for the benefit of only yourself that you find the guts to open your mouth. Truth is a bright white light. When you let it shine, it makes it easier for everyone else to see because only light drives out the darkness.

Even if you think you are in the belly of a whale, there is a way out, and a way forward for any of us.

I a Jonah wish only for you to join me, your brother, and get out of that whale, and live in the light.

I a Jonah only wish for you to be happy, and Nineveh to be spared.

All of it. And all of us.

With your grace please find pleasure and wisdom in the story I tell for you today, here on the shores of a lake not so very unlike the waters that feed the not so ancient ports of not so far away Nineveh.

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Honey Bear Snooze November, 2022. Chicago.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

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Pancakes for Three September, 2023. Chicago.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

RSVP to my Tea Party

Thank you so much for accepting my most humble invitation for tea today. And on such a lovely Saturday here in my garden today at that. It’s so nice to leave the French doors to the veranda open, and let the warm spring breezes flow through and kiss our foreheads. Don’t the lilacs smell incredible? Oh my God let’s just pause a minute and breathe in deeply the bouquet of that lilac bush my Grandma planted. Doesn’t it smell like heaven?!

Sit, sit, go ahead and please sit. I know it seems formal here, but don’t ever let that fool you. I only act properly so as not to offend you. I’m most happy if you slide off your shoes and settle in. I wanted you to spend the afternoon here with me and let me make you some tea and nibbly things and sip and nosh nice and slowly while I tell you a sweet little story.

I take pride in my tea here. The water I boil is no different than any other. But I have a marvelous selection of teas for us to have today. And oh so many lovely yummy things have I got prepared for us! I will bring you fresh steamy pots of tea to pour and I will promise you will never have to eat the same treat twice. Unless you really like it! I always make extra. Nobody but nobody never ever but never ever leaves my tea parties hungry for anything to eat or the least tiny bit thirsty.

So sit and get comfy. Settle in. My darling sweet mate made a deal with me that if I bake all the cakes and tell all the tales, he will keep the trays I have ready back in the kitchen smoothly marching out.

And so then one chapter at a time let me take you on a journey with me. For this trip, it’s all about the water. How it flows. How it breathes. How it swirls in your cup. And how it flows down your gullet. Moves through you. Becomes part of you. Then flows back out again. How water moves. How it flows. It looks like it flows downhill. But that’s not true.

Water always come full circle.

So let the water flow. Let the tea flow. Let my cookies and treats and nibbly bits flow by as you sit and relax here with me on the big comfy couch with your bare feet up. So the spring breezes can kiss your toes.

And let the water flow by and around and through you and through this story I have for us today about two boys and some water.

And a fish...

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Tommy’s on Deck October, 2018. Skaneateles, New York.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Toasted Points with Angry Beluga on Chopped Egg AND Oolong

Chapter 2: Watercress on Rye Rounds AND Red Zinger

Chapter 3: Wilted Escarole on Jack Cheddar AND Briar Rose Hips

Chapter 4: Dusted Morels on Brioche AND Salty Sumac

Chapter 5: Bitter Root on Flat Bread AND Bloody Macha Paste

Chapter 6: Heirloom Tomato Bruschetta AND Hemp Wildflower

Chapter 7: Thistles in Parchment AND Earl Gray

Chapter 8: Rapini al Limon on Garlic Toast AND Peppermint Snap

Chapter 9: Blood Oranges AND Misty Mint

Chapter 10: Lox Bits on Rye AND Chamomile

Chapter 11: Minced Dragon Fruit AND Lemon Zest

Chapter 12: Salmon Roe AND Darjeeling

Chapter 13: Tuna Tartare with Wasabi AND Berry Blast

Chapter 14: Three Bean Salad AND Sleepy-time

Chapter 15: Dandelion Greens AND Birch Root

Chapter 16: Calamari Fritti AND Cinnamon Bark

Chapter 17: Pickled Banana Peppers AND Orange Pekoe

Chapter 18: Minced Meat AND Jasmine

Chapter 19: Squash Blossoms AND Julep

Chapter 20: Anjou Pears AND Pomegranate

Chapter 21: Grapes AND Bitter Lemon Grass

Chapter 22: Orange Marmalade AND Celtic Thunder

Chapter 23: Pickled Radishes AND Red Rooster

Chapter 24: Pickled Radishes AND Red Rooster

Chapter 25: Peanut Brickle AND Iced Peppermint

Chapter 26: Bitter Herbs AND Brine Brew

Chapter 27: Cornucopia Della Vida AND Beau Geste

Chapter 28: Salted Fish AND Prima Bella

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

About the Artwork

About Center City

Index to Images

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Footsie and Koi January, 2023. Chicago.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

Chapter

One

T his story begins with two beautiful young boys laying out in the sun. Stretched out stark naked. Like a couple of flap jacks on the griddle. Jimmy and Leo, side-by-side as usual, and still wet from their daily skinny dip. Baking slowly under the late summer afternoon sun by their favorite spot on the big flat rock on the green shores of Lake Getchie. They figured they were alone that day but for that big golden eye in the sky as they looked into each other’s faces and talked and laughed. They were slowly becoming aware, like wolves waking up to hunt, that dinner was afoot, and it was game on.

It was just their eyes alone there at Lake Getchie today, thought Jimmy and Leo. Only two pairs of eyes looking fully into each other with innocent honesty. And those eyes peered as far into each other as you can see. Right down to the very bottom.

The boys thought only two pairs of eyes were there that day. They were not appreciating how The Angel of Fate was also watching them both that day, seeing it all with her eyes too. She sees everything, mind you. She never misses a trick that Angel of Fate. But she isn’t always interested. Usually not paying so much attention.

But today she was looking down. Looking at her ‘altar’ on Lake Getchie. And noticing two lambs were being offered up to her today. Lucky for those boys this was the same Angel that held back Abraham’s hand in the Sinai when he prepared to slit the throat of his beloved Isaac. And just like that day six millennia back, today she was planning on being nice. It was her casino. And she called the spots. And today these boys, both sons of Abraham, were also being dealt a winning hand. Lucky boys!

The Angel of Fate’s eyes also were there. On those boys. And those Grand Diva eyes smiled and sparkled to see a royal flush start to fill in. She got a kick out of seeing that happen, every once in a long while. The 10 and the Queen of Hearts were no suited connector to speak of, but then she turned over the Jack and King. Just as Leo and Jimmy turned up to face the sun.

And she was in a really good mood that day, the Angel of Fate was. She rarely takes sides in the casino but she had it in her mind to drop the Ace of Hearts on those two boys today. Just for this once-in-a-while. For some reason she liked the way that Leo and Jimmy smiled at each other. She liked their eyes too. Just like they did.

So she let her finger caress the bottom of her big deck. Where she kept the Ace of Hearts parked. She could shuffle the deck all day but only she knew were that Ace of Hearts was. She could toss out that one Ace every now and again, though usually it was more often useless four flushes she dealt out. Rarely a straight flush, and a royal one at that.

Big baby-blue eyes sparkled as Jimmy laughed at his Bestie. Leo was making his stupid Brother Augustus face and voice. Leo made Jimmy laugh so hard he peed a little, not that it mattered much. Being naked out on a big rock slab in the sun. It would be dry in a minute anyway. Seeing Jimmy pee a little on him when he lost it laughing for him at his jokes just made Leo’s big brown eyes sparkle even brighter than Jimmy’s. There they were, just two nice boys, and two nice pairs of sparkling young innocent eyes. Kissed by the face of the afternoon sun. Not appreciating that the Angel of Fate’s eyes were smiling on them there also. And none of them aware of one other pair of eyes upon them also.

Another pair of eyes. Lurking. Dark and angry. Lonely and hungry eyes. Not up in the sunny late afternoon sky. Not off in the woods. But from a very cold, dark, wet and black place down deep. Deep from the murky bottom waters of Lake Getchie, two other eyes were secretly watching Jimmy and Leo. Hungry cold eyes that never smile were upon them. Laser locked on them. And they were not honoring any of the odds posted in the Grand Diva’s casino cage, today. Those eyes belonged to the pit boss.

Jimmy and Leo laughed and roasted in the hot sun. Baking like a couple of cakes in the oven. Roasting like a couple of chickens. Skin all out and hot to the touch from the radiant sunlight.

This was their favorite spot. It was called ‘Lazarus’ Inlet’ on the maps. And that’s how the Brothers all referred to it. But that’s not what Jimmy and Leo called it. They called it the ‘Altar.’ Not because of the shape of the little bay in the lake, but because of the great granite stone slab they were laying on. Like a sundeck. Naked. And roasting and laughing under the hot late August sun. Practically sizzling.

Leo loved to make his friend Jimmy laugh for him. They had been best friends all through the La Salle Academy for Boys. Even before high school. They had been there together at LSA for middle school too. In Brother Augustus’ home room.

It was a small class before high school. Only 100 of them. Jimmy O’Grande was an ‘O,’ and Leo Miranda was an ‘M.’ They sat across from each other. And it was a good thing too. Jimmy had to copy off Leo most of the time to pass spelling quizzes. Not that Leo was a brilliant speller mind you, it’s just that it didn’t take much of a master of the bee to out spell Jimmy. Brother Augustus used to tease them that Leo had better study harder, since he was studying for two.

Wait, wait! Leo said in between laughing fits. Can you name this tune?

No, don’t! Jimmy begged, his sides aching from laughter.

Leo sang in a dopey voice for him, "Bah-Bah-Dah-Boop-Boop–– ––Bop-Bah-Daaaaaaaah! Leo shook his face and let his cheeks blow out waggle, less like overly juicy jowls, and more like a pup tent whose moorings came loose in a storm. He let his tongue wag and drool fly all over Jimmy. It was so incredibly stupid you had to laugh at him. Unaware of how adorable he was shaking naked all about there on the Altar," and putting on a show for Jimmy. Like a peacock.

Stop! Jimmy begged. You’re making me pee! Don’t make me!

Take it! Leo laughed.

They lay next to each other, laughing out in the sun. There was nothing to stop them. They were as close as you can get without going all the way, really. Actually they were a lot farther along already than that. The sex would just seal a deal and make it official to them. But the connection was solid. Built over time. Years of trust. Fights resolved. Victories had. They were stuck on each other like glue. They didn’t care where they went to college together, or even if they went. They just wanted to be roomies. Well, more than roomies was what Leo was hoping for. Dreaming for. Leo was hoping for that happy future with his bestie every day now for months and months.

Jimmy loved Leo’s company more than anyone else’s. He didn’t exactly know what the depth of Leo’s feelings were, but they had grown up together. Swam naked all summer in Lake Getchie this summer. And every summer. Jimmy joked when Leo had a boner when they were alone. And Leo usually pointed out that Jimmy was just as hard, so whatever?!

As they laughed and inched closer, Leo grabbed Jimmy’s toes with his. And rolled over to him. Jimmy turned and smiled. Neither of them was joking about the boners today. Hardly.

Leo grabbed Jimmy by the ear. You got me by the ear like Brother Damien. Am I on detention? Jimmy joked.

Yes, I want you to stay after class.

Was I bad? Jimmy asked.

I will tell you in a minute, Leo whispered as he pulled Jimmy to him. And held him down just enough to corner the quarry.

The baby-blue and brown eyes that head been laser locked came in close and closed. And they shared a first real kiss. Not silly spin the bottle stuff. But a real one. The kind you never forget when it’s the first time you ever shared a kiss like that with anyone. And when the Angel of Fate has blessed a kiss, they tend to seal the deal.

Leo and Jimmy shared kisses and caresses. Slowly like a pretzel being braided they wove into one person. And began to do what it is we are all meant to do. And they both got lost in each other’s kisses. Feeling the softness of each other. Interpreting a thousand little tastes and movements and gestures. Subconsciously sampling the molecules of each other. And seeing if the midbrain called it a perfect fit, suitable for dopamine with a kick of oxytocin.

They were only kissing for a few minutes. A few precious minutes. It seemed like it would go on forever. It was a heaven enough for Leo that he would never forget it. Even if it were to be for only a brief precious moment.

Leo tried to get on top of Jimmy, which took some chutzpah, since Jimmy was a good half a foot taller. But Leo is the kind of man that is built to punch above his weight. As he lay kissing and learning what were all the spots that made Jimmy laugh in ways even more special than jokes did, Leo began to settle in. And take the drivers’ seat.

As Leo put his hand down to grab Jimmy and hold him in his hand, Jimmy was startled. He wasn’t startled by Leo’s hand grabbing his package though. He knew the hand of his best friend. Leo was calm and gentle. And his hands were plenty warm. And Jimmy wanted to be held. That’s not what startled him.

Leo didn’t notice it, but Jimmy did. As Leo kissed his neck and made him moan, Jimmy heard a splashing sound. He opened his eyes to look over Leo’s shoulder. Out onto Lake Getchie. He almost didn’t see it. But there is was. Way far out there. About half way clear across Lake Getchie, way out there Jimmy saw splashing. And thought maybe he heard a girl crying out, too.

What the fuck is that? Jimmy asked as he broke free of Leo’s seductive trance.

What? asked Leo puzzled. He was just getting ready to round second base and head for third when the coach called a time out.

Over there. What the fuck is all that splashing? Jimmy asked.

It’s nothing. A sunfish I’m sure, Leo said hoping that Jimmy would settle back down and let him steal third base on a wild pitch.

Jimmy wanted to believe Leo. Those kisses were about the nicest thing he had ever felt. But somehow just as he closed his eyes to go back to making out, there is was again.

Splash! Splash! Splash!

That’s not a Fish, Jimmy said.

Of course it is. There is nobody else here but us. Come on. Kiss me Jimmy. Let it go.

Splash! Splash! Splash!

It’s not a fish! insisted Jimmy pulling away.

Forget it!

Just wait. I gotta go see!

Oh, come on! Leo cried.

Chill. I will be right back. I will kiss you it’s fine I promise. I want to let you have me. But I gotta check this out first I think it’s someone in trouble.

It’s a fucking fish Jimmy. Just stay here with me. Don’t run off on me!

I will be right back, I swear. Just a sec!

Jimmy rolled to stand up. He was tall and graceful compared to Leo’s stocky box cut. He walked to the edge of the ‘Altar’ and dove head first into Lake Getchie. He and Leo had done the swim team enough that it seemed like no biggie to swim out a few minutes to check things out.

Ordinarily Leo would follow Jimmy. They were mostly like a couple of book ends. But Leo was more than just a little bit irked and blue balled. So he decided to quietly pout and roll over and wait for Jimmy to find a stupid sunfish or perch or whatever, and come back and finish what they both had started there out under the hot summer sun.

Jimmy didn’t look back to notice Leo rolling over frustrated with a wasted hard on. You would think he would have noticed that. But there was something sort of interesting out there on the Lake, catching Jimmy’s eye and ear. Sparkling in the sun. Splashing. And the sound of a woman. Maybe a girl? Laughing? Or was it crying? Was she happily cavorting? Or was she downing? Jimmy stared barely a moment before he jumped headlong into Lake Getchie.

Even for a Varsity swim team first stringer, it was a decent ways out across Lake Getchie. It may not seem that way, but it is a good two miles across at the widest. And they say Lake Getchie goes deep. Deep deep down. Well past a mile. A chasm chewed out of the bedrock by the last glacial retreat after hitting her maximum. Wider and deeper than most people realize. And wider and deeper than a kid like Jimmy would ever stop to think about as he dove in and started swimming.

Despite the finite distance that splashing just seemed to keep receding away from him, like Hubble’s expanding universe had a local hiccup and hit forward zoom. As Jimmy swam he didn’t notice the fatigue. He was sprinting. Not doing a marathon pace like he ought to have been doing.

As Jimmy got closer and closer he could see more and more clearly. And hear too. It was indeed a woman! A beautiful woman. With bright red hair. And creamy skin. She was splashing and smashing and making a churn of The Lake around her. A great vortex of green and blue and white little drops glistening like diamonds in the hot August sun. As Jimmy closed in he could see now that it was clearly a very beautiful red headed woman. And making all kinds of a mess of The Lake’s wannabe calm surface.

And what was that sound she was making? ‘Was it laughter?’ thought Jimmy. Or crying? Or screaming? It seemed to be all of the above. But mostly, it sounded like an emergency. A call for a hero was going out. And Jimmy would answer the call!

Help me! she cried out. Gurgle, cough, gurgle, choke, gurgle, scream, gurgle, gurgle. Jimmy heard the screams and splashes. And despite exhaustion burst into a mad dash sprint towards this red headed damsel in distress.

I’m coming! screamed Jimmy. He nearly choked on the water himself. Some hero he would be to show up and be the one needing a rescue! Hold on!

Jimmy put his head down and torpedoed. As he did he could feel the vibration of the water. Not just see and hear. But feel it. Feel the waves. Fell the turbulence. Feel the vibration. As if he were a shark in pursuit of a wounded fish for supper.

As he felt the turbulence and honed in, he began to see the shape of the woman in his cross hairs more clearly. He saw red hair billowing and ivory skin. At first he thought he saw a tail and fins. Like some mermaid?! But it must have been an illusion of light and waves he thought. As he got closer he saw not so much a tail and fins, but more so long legs. Long beautiful lady legs. Kicking wildly all about. And as she turned and swirled to avoid drowning, like her own hurricane, Jimmy thought maybe she was naked also. How lucky a boy would he be to save a beautiful naked red headed damsel in distress?! ‘Oh such a fair maiden as a prize for a hero like I’m going to be!’ thought Jimmy.

As Jimmy popped up topside he enveloped the flailing body of the beautiful red head. She was wet and slippery, like she had on too much suntan lotion. As Jimmy grabbed her tightly, it was almost as if she were a watermelon pit, ready to be spit out and shoot across the room.

The red headed maiden threw her arms around Jimmy, Oh my God, help me! Help me! I’m drowning! She kicked and screamed in a wild animal desperate frenzy. Beating, slashing and tearing up poor Jimmy very, very badly.

I have you! yelled Jimmy.

Help me! Help me!

Hold me, I have you! Jimmy yelled.

The red headed maiden slowly slumped into Jimmy’s safe embrace. Into the hug of a hero.

Oh, my God! Thank you! Thank you! I was drowning!

I can see! It’s ok now. I got you. You can relax. I got you.

Oh, my God. Where did you come from?

I was sun bathing, replied Jimmy. Over there on the other side of the lake.

Oh, my God. And you heard me?! Way over there!?

Yes!

It’s a miracle! God’s will!

I don’t know. I just heard you.

No! It’s a miracle! Like magic! You heard me. And like a hero you saved me!

No. I’m not a hero. I just came.

No! You are a hero!

No. I’m just me. Are you ok?!

No, you’re a hero! The red headed woman paused and looked deeply into Jimmy’s eyes. To go with he red head, she had eyes like emeralds, but laced with streaks of fire and orange. With flickers of gold. They were a good match for Jimmy’s Ceylon sapphire blues. A pretty even match I’d say. And a good top card. Super heavy weight ultimate fighting cage match octagon now that you mention it.

You are my hero. You saved me.

I am just glad you are ok.

Look at us! she joked. We’re both naked and banged up pretty good!

Yeah, you scratched me a bunch. Jimmy looked down and began to assess the damage.

I’m so sorry! The red head apologized earnestly.

It’s ok, Jimmy reassured.

No. I’m sorry. You’re bleeding! You’re covered in scratches. I’m sorry.

It’s ok. You were flailing in a panic. You couldn’t help it, Jimmy offered.

You’re so sweet. I’m so sorry. You came to save me and I clawed you like a tiger.

I will be fine. Jimmy tried to dismiss the red headed woman, despite a whole lot of his blood billowing all around them in the water.

We both will be fine now, thanks to you!

It’s ok. Really.

No. You are a hero. And just look how hurt you got trying to save me. What a brave man you are. Such a hero to me! And because you are a hero, you have proven yourself worthy.

What do you mean? Jimmy asked very confused and dizzy from the hero’s struggle.

I’m not just a woman. I am more than that. Much more. I am also the Mistress of the Lake.

You’re The Mistress?! Jimmy asked with utter incredulity.

You’ve heard of me?

I heard ghosts stories. From Brother Barnabus. At the campfire. About the The Lady of Lake Getchie.

That’s me.

Fuck you!

No, it is me.

Fuck that!

No it’s true. And because you chose to risk your life to save a stranger you have proven yourself worthy as a hero and a man. And I am now obliged to grant you one wish.

Get the fuck out of here!

No. Watch and see.

As Jimmy held the beautiful woman she began to morph. Beautiful legs braided into a tail. Fins emerged from her spine and limbs. Gills opened on her neck and she had webs between her long graceful fingertips. Right town to the ruby red ten French-tips of them.

Holy fuck! Jimmy gasped.

See?!

I’m hallucinating! Jimmy blurted out.

No, you’re not. Is this a hallucination? She took five of those ruby red French tips and grabbed Jimmy’s balls. Grabbed ‘em real good and tight.

Hey! Jimmy yelled in protest of the squeeze play.

That’s me holding your balls, my hero. I’m no illusion.

She gave Jimmy a real good squeeze in his package. Not enough to get juice from the fruit, but enough to let it be known that this was no fucking hallucination that had Jimmy by the balls.

Ok! Ok! You’re real! Ease up! Jimmy cried.

I will, but first I must grant you one wish.

Really?!

Oh, hell yes really. You make a wish, and I grant it and release you.

A wish?! Jimmy asked wincing from both cuts and bruises and his balls in a vise.

Yes. One wish.

What can I have?

Anything.

Really? Jimmy asked still in disbelief.

Yes, anything. Any one wish. Name it.

Well, what should I ask for?

That’s up to you, my hero. Anything.

Like what?

Well, it’s up to you. Maybe you want eternal beauty, or charm, or wealth, or a long life, or fame, or power, or wisdom. Anything. You name it.

Jimmy struggled. He felt lucky beyond measure. He had planned to be a hero. But not for such a reward as this!! He was free to choose, she said. But somehow that vise-like grip on his balls was bringing the issue to a head.

How about love? Jimmy asked.

Love? The Lady of the Lake asked, intrigued.

Yes, love. I want to always have love. Jimmy just blurted it out.

Oh, that’s a good one. I like that one. That’s a pleasure to do.

Yeah?

Easy, peasy, lemon squeezie, she said as she gave Jimmy’s balls one last good tug. And fun to do because it’s so nice and happy for everyone that way. Nobody gets hurt. A win-win.

Yeah?

Oh, yeah. Of course, said the Lady of the Lake.

It’s easy?

Oh yes, here’s your wish: Everyone who ever looks into your eyes will love you. And the more that they look, the more they will love you. Forever and ever. More and more. No man or woman born will be able to resist the power of your gaze. And they will love you forever without end so long as you look at them."

Really?

Yes. You do nothing, said the Lady.

Nothing? Jimmy asked still baffled.

Yup. Zilch. Zip. Nada. Nothing at all. Zero Absolute zero. Kelvin zero. Just open your eyes and let them look at you, and it will be love, love, love. The more they look, the more they love. The more they love, the more they look. Your life will be as if you walk on water.

Really?!

Yes. And I will always be with you to make sure.

How? Jimmy asked.

Watch! said the Lady.

The Red Headed Fish Witch Lady of the Lake began to glow with a silver light. Cold and bright, but without heat. And she once again changed. This time she shrank up into a tiny little fish. It was her. But it looked like jewelry. Like a golden fish made of little tiny links so it could oscillate and move. It was as if it were covered in enamel and gilt. As if cloisonné work done by an old master craftsman. It was delicate and beautiful. About the size of your thumb. And dangled from a nice heavy golden rope chain.

The Fish Witch came to be just a pendant. A beautiful fish bob at the end of a lovely chain. The chain draped on Jimmy’s fingers as the slide nestled into the chuff of his hand.

Put me on! commanded the Fish Witch.

That’s amazing! Jimmy gasped.

That’s nothing. I can be anyone. Or anything. But for you, because you are my hero and a worthy man, you can see my true face. This is really me.

You’re so beautiful! gushed Jimmy.

I know. Thank you, she said.

You really are! Jimmy added.

We both agree. Now put me on! she commanded.

Wear you?

Yes. So long as you wear me the blessing of your wish will always come true. And I will be there to enforce it. Always.

Always? Jimmy asked.

Yes. Always and forever. You are my hero. I must stay with you now. I belong to you.

Yeah?

Yes, my King. Put me on!

Jimmy liked the sound of ‘my King’. How nice it was to finally be recognized for being a good man. No, strike that. A great man. A great big hero of a man. So nice to finally be seen for his true glory!

Jimmy put on the necklace. And suddenly he felt happy. Everything seemed better. Like he had put on some polarized sun glasses and all the glare was gone. Everything looked so much greener. And nicer now.

Jimmy was naked. Naked and scratched. Bleeding, bruised and bewildered. But happy. And with a nice shiny necklace on. A real bute.

We are still a ways out, Jimmy suddenly realized.

Yes, we are, agreed the Fish Witch.

I should have wished for a boat!

That would not have been nearly as much fun, retorted the Fish Witch.

‘Fun’ as in watching your hero drown?!

You will not drown.

How do you know?

I know because I know. You won’t die today. One day you will, but not today.

We are like in the middle of the lake, Jimmy observed still quite anxious.

Yes, we are.

Should I go all the way across and walk around The Lake or try and swim back??

It’s a long walk around the lake. I would say it’s a good 20 miles.

I will get into trouble. I’m naked! Jimmy protested.

But they will love you. Never worry like that.

They will love me when I’m drowned?!

I’m not letting that happen.

So what to do?

Swim! One way or the other. But we need to move. Swim, whatever way, she commanded. But just swim! Go!

Ok, Jimmy agreed.

Jimmy started to swim back. He had none of the same adrenaline rush as on the outbound swim. Coming back in felt very different. Adrenaline fueled also, but now somehow more than just adrenaline. He was now tingly all over. Not just from the bloody scratches and gashes. Not just from the bruises. It was more of an all over tingle.

Jimmy still wondered if he would make it back to the other side. Witch guarantee not withstanding. As he swam he began to feel more heavy. And he really did worry about sinking.

But Jimmy didn’t worry alone.

Leo had long since gotten over his blue balled frustration. He had stood erect at the edge of the ‘altar.’ Peering out hard to see across the lake. And worrying about his beloved Jimmy. He stared with all his might.

Jimmy was worried about drowning.

And Leo was worried too.

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Flippers December, 2022. Wilmington, Illinois.

Doc Mingo. Graphite on Paper.

Chapter

Two

L eo gripped the edge of the rock with his toes, and leaned out into Lake Getchie as far out as he could. Straining to see Jimmy. It had been a while now. And Leo was getting worried.

Leo looked out and could see splashing, but not much else. He could maybe hear some yelling. But really not much. He just kind of knew where Jimmy was.

And he knew Jimmy had been gone too long.

Way too long.

Leo had had enough of looking and waiting. He crouched and grabbed the rock with his strong toes tightly, and then leapt with all his might out into Lake Getchie. And he began to swim to go help Jimmy. Help his bestie that had left his loving arms and kisses and disappeared into The Lake. And should have been back by now. Long ago he should have been back.

As Leo began to swim his best 1000 meters he began to tire. It was late in the day, and the boys had been out in the sun all day. And they were more than a little bit dehydrated. Kind of ironic to be dry in the midst of all that water. And the hunger and thirst and heat of the day made Leo fatigue fast, despite his record time.

As Leo began to cramp up, he became even more scared for Jimmy. Jimmy had been out longer. And was bigger. And no doubt had cramps too. Maybe he had gone under?

Leo panicked. He screamed at the thought of Jimmy going down while he was pouting onshore. Being a bitch on the ‘altar’ while Jimmy was drowning. He could never forgive himself! ‘What a monster he was,’ he thought. As he thought, he panicked. And as he panicked he flailed widely and began to scream. Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy! Where are you! Oh, fuck man, don’t play. Please Jimmy!

‘Please God,’ Leo prayed as he screamed. ‘Where is Jimmy?! Please, God. Don’t take him. Don’t blame him for kissing me. It was all my fault. Please God. Don’t take him from me. If you let him live I swear I will always stay by his side and never let him go again. I will never sit on my selfish ass again while my love needs me. Please God. Save him just this once. Give him and me a second chance.’

Leo screamed and prayed and swam like a wild man. Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy! He screamed over and over. His new mantra.

Leo! Jimmy yelled. Leo heard it. It was close.

With the last of his strength, Jimmy had yelled the one word to save him. He thought it probably could be his last word.

Now, sometimes, when a man thinks he’s about to die, he cries out. Sometimes it’s to God. Sometimes it’s for Mama. That one last word that comes out is often more than mere epitaph. It’s the last gasp of the mortal body from