P.E. Nuts

Physical Education, AKA P.E. was a time of the day for students to learn the importance of teamwork through organized sports such as basketball, football, and baseball. It was while participating in these activities that students, for the most part gained a stronger sense of self-worth, strength, and independence. "No pain, no gain," the short mustachio'ed Coach Beard whould say. While the ability to demonstrate physical prowess was a blessing for many, for the small minority possessing an assortment of physical and emotional abnormalities, it was a curse. Some children were obese. Others lacked coordination or proper vision and others simply cried. A lucky few were able to embrace their peculiarities by means of music or art, which though didn’t spare them from being socially ostracized, did enable them to channel their energy in a proactive and expressive direction. I fell into the less inclined category of children. When coach said "No pain, no gain" he discounted emotional pain.

As the energy of the hallways would increase as the hours ticked towards this cursed experience that was Physical Education, I shuddered. As if the rolling eyes as a result of missed free throws, wasn’t enough for humiliation, there was the added bonus of changing in the locker room. While some students proudly displayed recently emerged small patches of chest hair, or discussed PG-13 make-out sessions with the girls of our class, I hid in the corner, mortified at my twig-like, hairless, muscle-free appendages. They were talking about doing things with girls that I didn’t feel comfortable even speaking to or for that matter was aware of. Despite the fact that eventually I would grow, I found no peace in this physiological guarantee that one day, I too, would have chest hair.

In addition to being a gym class pariah, there was another social drawback to physical immaturity. Girls. I loved them. I was a helpless romantic and could fall in love at the bat of an eye. This great love for girls, and there were so many, was something that had to exist only within the realm of possibility because of my pre-pubescent purgatory.

This is why, when my mother and father told my sister and I that we were going to Dallas to visit the Fishers, I was delighted. Steven Fisher was my father’s roommate in college. For years my sister and I had heard stories about the college days. Though intoxication wasn’t something we were able to comprehend, they loved to dazzle us with wild tales of college antics. Most of my parent’s friends, as far as I was concerned were simply parents and incapable of any genuine fun. Steven on the other hand, was a legend in our minds. To sweeten this already perfect midsummer jaunt to Texas, we were going to go to Six Flags. I was delighted to learn that they had a daughter who was two years younger than me. Her name was Mandy and though I had not met her, I knew we were in love. How could we not be? She was two years younger than I, so I most certainly would carry a mystique and a confidence about me that she would be hard-pressed to find anywhere in the stuffy surroundings of an immature Texas Middle School. I imagined the two of us, lovers, divided by state lines as pen pals until we finally were able to purge our parental nests and then live happily ever after.


We arrived to their house and it was everything I knew it would be. She was perfect. She had a lovely smile and was slender with long brown hair, just as I had dreamed. The Fishers had a giant front yard with a couple of massive trees, which provided ample space for me to show off my running skills. In addition to being able to run really fast, I could also jump fairly high and was capable of climbing trees in a way unrivaled amongst the boys her age. With every passing hour and each game that I won, I was securing a spot in my damsel’s heart.

I went to sleep confident that I had impressed her with my speed, but the following day it would be my bravery that would be her undoing. The largest wooden rollercoaster in the country lie in wait for us, just a few miles away. I saw it perfectly. We would lock eyes as the ride ticked it’s way to it’s crest before plummeting hundreds of feet on the rickety ride. As she screamed in terror, I would put my hand on her arm in a Zen-like trance, my mere presence assuring her that all was in perfect harmony. We would sit side-by-side, surrendering to the inertia of the cascading ride until it ended at which point, I would look into her eyes and say, “I told you it would be okay.” We would lock hands as we exited the ride and the world would applaud and weep at the witnessing of such a divine union.

The next morning, I moussed my hair, flossed my teeth, and put on my best tee shirt. I refused breakfast because I wanted to focus on the amorous task at hand. I tactfully ignored her as she ate her cereal, instead reading the latest Stephen King novel. Not a book a boy in her grade would read.

We made our way to Six Flags and I continued to ignore her. I was distraught when, after conquering the long line to the roller coaster, I learned that she wanted to sit next to her father. That was okay though. I had heard that girls play hard to get so it was the calm that I exuded after the ride that would seal my place in her heart.

The ride clicked its way up towards the first drop just as it had in my dream the night before. It was all coming true except that sitting next to me was my dad. As the coaster dropped, it was as if I were falling through midair those first few glorious seconds and then something terrible happened….

A pain, like a lightening bolt shot through my entire body. It felt as though a radioactive alien had been set free in my insides and after a couple of moments pingponging around my organs, finally settling at the base of my torso like an asteroid spun off of the sun. Despite my agony, the whipping and weaving of the rollercoaster continued, my shrill, girl-like scream audible even over the clacking of coaster track. The ride ended and I couldn’t stand up. Despite the fact that I was a virgin and also a male, I felt as though I was about to give birth. I couldn’t straighten my torso, nor did would my legs go together in any sort of functional way. I couldn’t speak. Everyone looked at me, displeased at my cowardly behavior on the World’s Largest Wooden Rollercoaster. Mandy shook her head, unimpressed. It was just like gym class.

I painfully shuffled my way to the bathroom and collapsed into a stall as the fire in my crotch expanded through my body, I took my pants off and that is the moment that I saw the most horrifying thing that any eyes should ever have to fall upon. My nuts had twisted into a knot.

My father entered the stall, concerned and disappointed at my weepiness. Upon entry and observation he went sheet white. “ I think something is wrong…” I muttered. He told me to stay put and a moment later, Steven appeared in the stall doorway. “Oh Jesus…” My dad yanked me up, and with that my day at Six Flags ended.

I sat in the back seat of the Fisher’s SUV and all I could see was stars. Not only stars but elaborate galaxies that only come to the forefront of one’s consciousness when one fears an involuntary sex change. My dad kept telling my mom that he hadn’t expected to wind up with another daughter, while Mandy and Mary demanded to know what was wrong with me.
“Are you okay?” my mom would ask. “Does it hurt?” What kind of specific answer did she want? My balls looked like a knotted up freeway exchange at rush hour but how was I to convey that with Mandy, my love, in the seat ahead of me?
“Do you want us to stop for some ice?” my Mom would ask.
“He’s gonna lose his nuts, Libby! We’re not stopping for any god damn ice!” retorted my dad.
“What’s wrong with his nuts?” Mandy would ask. “Nothing….” And so we drove…
“Another god damn daughter…” muttered my Dad.

Normal

Twisted


We made it to Dallas Children’s Hospital where my scrotum was observed with the same intrigue and horror as a UFO that had crashed on an orphanage. After finally settling on surgery, the doctors were able to save my manhood. Because of swelling issues, I wasn’t allowed to travel home for a couple of days, so me and my swollen balls recovered in the Fisher’s downstairs guestroom where out my window, I could hear Mary and my beloved playing in the front yard where once I had run so fast….

Instead of returning from Dallas as a man in love, I returned to Oklahoma City with my nuts in a sling and a gait like a cowboy. My dreams of Mandy fell by the wayside. I sat idly as the kids in my neighborhood played outside. Summer turned to fall and it was once again time to go to school only now I had a medical excuse not to have to endure the toils of gym class or the embarrassment of a locker room. Though I hadn’t achieved the manhood that I’d hoped for in Dallas, I got to endure a pain far beyond that of any of the mere boys in my school. And a man who can endure pain is a man to be admired… and somewhere, on some level, I’m sure my Mandy knew that.