Roberta’s room – she still had it even though she’d moved out to go to college six years earlier – was at the other end of the upper floor of ...he house from Mom’s room. She sat with me on her big queen bed and said, “I woke you up because I want to tell you a story.”“I ghost story?” I asked hopefully, looking out of the window at the moon that was obscured by scudding clouds.“Better! A naughty story.”“Yes!” I said.“I’ve been writing these stories for a couple years, Johanna. I want to read one. He's got sandy, blond hair, cut surfer-boy style, deeply tanned skin, clad in white shorts and a matching tee shirt that cling tightly to his superhero-like body.I am in total awe and cannot help but stare.Christ... he looks like a mountain of solid muscle...He turns to me and says, "Hi, I'm Lonnie."Silence......Silence... still staring…My mind hiccups and jiggers, sputtering to access the speech functions..."I ... ah... ummmmm... hi...," I stutter, coughing to buy time. "... I'm Charley.". More

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