Demeter's Tempest

These weren't easy memories. Kevin was distracted.

Josie, a freshman he barely knew and who was also on his route, fell in walking behind him, then sped up to walk alongside.

"Hey. Kev."

"Joezz."

They'd never talked much. Kevin was generally more shy than that, and Josie was younger, so it didn't really fit. Plus, she was attractive, for a freshman, and he didn't talk with attractive people that much. Josie knew him, and sometimes she felt like saying hello despite his shyness.

Josie persisted, walking beside him, she saw his face. "What's up? You look... hurt... like, lost or something."

Kevin's eye dropped a tear. He wasn't ready for too many clear memories to come back. He was supposed to be over this stuff, it had been six years ago.

Josie noticed the tear but didn't say anything, just walked beside him silently. The question hung in the air.

Finding himself to be more honest, or vulnerable, than normal, Kevin took a breath and said, calmly, "I'm 18. Birthday was yesterday. My ... mom died about 6 years ago, I don't know why I'm crying. I guess I miss her."

Josie had no idea about this. Her parents did, of course. Kevin's mom was in the news at one point (on the police blotter), but that was long before Josie was old enough to be told or overhear things like that.

Josie's reaction was just to look up to his face, but then forward to where they were walking. She noted Danny and Jerk-Jessica were already waiting at the stop. They would not react well to any sign of weakness. Both were utter dicks.

Just as they got close, Josie tapped his sleeve, almost pulling it. She said, sort-of-urgently, "Hold up. This is close enough." She walked around behind Kevin so he had to turn away from the bus stop people to face her. "Look at me," she said, "just... Look here."

Kevin was confused. No one usually looked at him, so they wouldn't notice if he was crying. On consideration, she was probably right.

Josie's hand came up and touched his hand. In that touch, just the back of his hand where he was holding his backpack, skin on skin, a small but powerful electric shock hit both of them, worse than a static shock but also deeper. The spot where it happened, Kevin could tell, suddenly filled with a warm glow. It connected to her, then, and he became more aware of her, mentally and even somewhat physically.

He could almost see himself through her eyes, but with a mood attached -- her mood, her attitude, her ... history?

A link had been formed. His mind focused on it, even as she talked.

"So, here's how we play this, Kev. I can hit you, and make you angry, and that's an excuse. Or, we can just stand here a minute, if you think that'll help. Or, ... dunno. At least, you're not next to those creeps."

Kevin had to agree, but he was fascinated by what she was seeing of him. In her eyes, he was high-status, a tall senior kid who had it all together, even seeing his sweatpants as 'trendy', something she felt... insecure about?

Josie did not try to be trendy. She tried to minimize how many people would look at her on a given day, because she saw herself as fat and a potential victim.

Kevin's connection with her let him see her as she saw herself! His mind was full of that perspective she had, on him and how her life was going, and he sucked it in, a completely new thing in a life filled with not-great-so-far.

Thinking about it, though, he realized she had a point. She was slightly rounded and kind of mousey in appearance, but he'd been Far, Far worse off, literally the previous day.

She was waiting for a decision, he realized.

Kevin shrugged and said, "Just... no drama. We can stand here a minute."

At that moment, though, the spark of electricity that had passed reasserted itself in his fingertips, and he felt like he could do something with it, by feeling it and saying something, maybe. Maybe her niceness should be rewarded.

He said, "We've never really talked, Josie. Thank you for letting ... us be totally honest with each other."

He'd meant that as a statement of caring, reflecting her caring, but his words manifested differently.

The spark made him move his hand and touch her shoulder as he said it, just lightly and away, an acknowledgment, a thank you.

Josie felt something odd happening at his touch. She'd not been touched, much, on purpose at least, by guys. This felt different. It inspired a thought, an idea that she really could be honest with Kevin, really, really seriously honest with him, about anything.

The 'be honest with each other', in reality, was a deep command that she internalized as a conscious decision to Trust.

Their moment together was calm. They just quietly stood there.

Kevin looked down the road, noting his vision was utterly clear now, even without glasses, and just the act of focusing with binocular vision on nearby trees, seeing the branches move in 3-D, was amazing. He smiled at the experience.

Jose thought he was smiling in reaction to something she did, and she felt really good. She decided to risk it. "I think you're right. I can tell you anything, Kevin."

He thought that was odd, but looked back at her, feeling her conflict melt away; the vision thing was still sort-of going. "Yeah?"

"My uncle is an alcoholic. I have to avoid him. Maybe every other week, he comes over - he lives across town? And, like, sometimes he tries things with me." She considered, "I've never told anyone before, you're... the first. I don't know why. It seemed like it was my fault, that he grabbed me... grabs, me, whenever he's over and no one is looking. I let him. I mean, I didn't scream, and he just kept doing it, and now, how do I stop him?"

Kevin's disbelief that people could be that jerky to each other immediately collided with his deep understanding from being teased and insulted. Yes, people could definitely be jerks.

How could he fix it, he thought? He decided to wing it. "Simple. Two ways. First, you can call me, and I'll come over and beat the fuck out of him. And two, you can go to that TaeKwonDo place on 3rd street? Take some lessons. They'll get you set up. I did that when I was in 5th grade. Joon was his name. I was getting beat up. He showed me stuff. Fixed it. The physical stuff, at least."

"I don't know if I could ask..."

Kevin looked at her in the eyes and said, clearly, disregarding her objections because they were, in fact, unnecessary fears. "Don't ask anyone else, or tell them. Just Go. Walk in, tell Joon your problem. Be Very honest with him, tell him all about how it happens, when, who's there, everything. I know people, and I know Joon. He'll help you. For him, it won't be about the money. He's not going to ask you for money. If he does, talk with me, I'll see if I can help."

Kevin didn't know his 'suggestion' carried magic as a command. Her going was then a clear fact. It would override any shyness she'd have, and force the action. More importantly, as an altruistic command, given with caring for her in his heart, rather than using magic, it created a feedback loop to inject more magic into Kevin than what he'd started with.

The only experience Kevin felt, though, was a slightly larger tingling feeling in his right hand.

Josie's eyes tracked behind him, and Kevin heard the bus coming. He turned to look and when he looked back, Josie was dripping a tear.

As they walked forward, she asked, "How do I thank you for this?"

He thought for a moment as they approached the stopped bus, feeling the magic still tingling, and he knew he had to come up with something. With time running out as they shuffled forward, he just parroted back to her (in the same super-funny voice) the video game intro he'd heard: "Organize! Prepare! Learn! Act-i-vate!"

Danny, an obnoxious and frequently mean junior in line behind him, laughed at overhearing that and said appreciatively, "Zeetoh the Conqueror 3! Got it, there, Dude! Good voice!"

Josie's experience of that comment was to feel those words go through her like she was in a big stadium and the sound system had echoed and vibrated her chest in the bass range.

The power in those words didn't stop with Josie, though.

Jessica ("jerk-Jessica" to Josie) heard them, too, with the same stadium-echo force flowing through her.

Jessica's life was complicated enough by it being her senior year like Kevin's, having a crap job and bad grades, and knowing she'd probably never make it through college because of her mild dyslexia.

The injunction, the command-set Kevin had said, as a 'silly comment', suddenly gave her ideas. On the bus, she sat and opened a notebook, pretending to work so that Aisha, a 'popular' girl, wouldn't bother her. It worked - they had an understanding about overdue homework. Jessica was going to Organize her life! She started with a to-do list...

Kevin sat in the back, alone, and listened to the chatter. He hated having to ride the bus. It was only 2 miles and he could ride his bike, but he'd done that before and ended up sweating like a pig and then having to walk around stinky all day.

== ==

The bus pulled up at 7:05, so there was usually time to stop by the lunchroom to meet up with his friends, have a free snack, or just do some last-minute work before heading off to first period orchestra.

The bagel in his pocket meant he could go straight to Orchestra.

Kevin's instrument was either piano or guitar, whatever Ms. G. wanted, since he'd played both for a long time before. He'd practiced a ton when he was in 2nd grade, after his mom's death, it was a consolation, then. He still had to practice sometimes with new music, but it was mostly just fun. The two pieces they had been working on had him playing a background-piano part on one, and picking out the second viola part on the guitar for the other.

As sometimes happened, Ms. G interrupted his tuning-up (scales and arpeggios) to have him hand stuff out. He was her go-to gofer, up front next to her and exploitable.

Kevin hated handing things out. Beyond drudgery, it was embarrassing. He had to step between heavy black music stands, and sometimes he knocked things around. Papers would fall off stands, instruments would get in the way, it never worked well and he always stumbled.

Unfortunately, his new height put him even more off-balance that day. He stumbled so much more than usual he ended up bumping the hands and legs of almost everyone in the orchestra.

By an odd twist of fate (that wasn't fate, really, since Demeter was involved), the orchestra was 72% female that year.

Kevin's tingling feeling, not so much in his hands but in his chest, started to rise midway through the handouts, but he just put it down to stretching his new body around and having to wear sweatpants, which was very much not the normal thing for him.

He sat back down. They all listened to the school announcements, then started playing. The piece of the day was a pop piece, which was harder than the classical pieces. It was 'Fooling Yourself' by Styx, a rock band from back when his grandpa was in high school. The singing parts had been converted to trumpet and cornet solos, which fit because Sarah Kelleher played first chair trumpet and (in Kevin's terms) Freakin' Dominated.

Kevin had mostly an accompaniment part, very little lone-solo spots, which made him happy. Exposed spots were where messing up got embarrassing.

Playing through it, everyone realized something quickly: Sarah's playing Took the Fucking Cake! Hairs on the backs of necks all around the room stood on end. And, still, it had only just started with Sarah and moved on as the music swelled and shifted. Even the 2nd and 3rd chairs gave her well-balanced harmony, backed her with superlative playing, crisp and clear and blending to perfection, fading in and out of the orchestra's larger working of the tune.

Kevin's playing was not the focus. Just Kevin's presence in the room (and that he'd touched most of the Orchestra players earlier) was what made the music Do Things, far out of league from a typical Friday mornings recitation and run-through.

The music carried him. It carried all of them! Ms. G just let them play on through the fairly long piece, which was unusual since there was almost always a mix-up, or something she wanted to focus on.

All through the song, Kevin's tingling chest kept getting more pronounced. He could feel the others around him, not just their music but their moving bodies, and listen through their ears from across the room to how the parts sounded to them as they played.

That tingling was doing something else they were barely conscious of. It was downright sexy. The swinging, pop-song feel of it moved all of them, in ways they felt more deeply and subtly than they consciously identified.

So, yes, Kevin's clumsy handout-distribution meant he'd touched all of them, but that touch changed a simple song into something MORE. He was realizing that his fingers were still tingling, from those touches, and how that connected him to the other players.

Ms. G. didn't really want to feel sexy in a room full of teenagers. She had to be careful about such things. The vibrations she was getting from the experience made her want to go home (since there was no Mr. G anymore, they'd split) and curl up with _Mirv_, her vibrating 'friend'.

(She didn't know it, but almost all the girls in that room owned a vibrator. And, the connection and sensation of the music flowing through did the same things to them that it did to Mrs. G. Their reactions weren't so self-aware but their arousal was Absolutely Happening)

As they finished the movement and stopped, the room was all smiles, though some were slightly-worried smiles. All the girls (at least, all the seniors, the juniors were somehow unaffected in that way) started realizing they were tingling 'down there' so were shifting in their seats slightly or rubbing their upper arms.

The guys in the room, as they came down from the ecstatic high of the music, realized they were sporting wood. This made them somewhat anxious to keep that secret.

Mrs. G didn't know what to do next. She was flummoxed. They'd played it beyond perfectly, and she hadn't really had them focusing on it much. Her lesson plan was to play through it for most of the class period and fix the broken bits.

Her inspiration (Kevin's abilities helped that) flew in as whimsy and clapped her in the brain -- she decided to uncork the piece she'd been saving for at least a year or two. She wanted to keep it for when she had a group good enough to do it justice.

Granted it was another pops selection and playing it would stretch them. She wasn't even sure some of the students could handle the technical ends of it.

While she considered it, the orchestra just sat there for almost a full minute, appreciating what they'd done, the echoes of it flowing through their brains. Kevin's connections to each piped their fertile creativity into their gonads, then let it flow back out and into Kevin again. He didn't even need to touch them a second time - it was just a permanent connection holding them together.

Breaking the silence, Ms. G said, "Hold on. I have a piece I've been saving for a couple of years. Maybe this morning we're up to it."

Disappearing a moment to her office, she returned with a file-box and plopped it down on an open chair. Taking some out, she said, "Ian Anderson. Jethro Tull. 'Thick as a Brick'."

The piles were heavy, each part's music ran to more pages than normal and looked dense even from across the room.

Ms. G handed Kevin a thick bunch, half the parts or so, and pointed at his half of the orchestra. The implication was, do that bit, help out, as she continued, walking some scores back to the percussion section, who uncovered the timpani drums at her hand-wave.

Kevin was in a quandary. He was sporting a full-on boner, and his loose too-large underwear and sweatpants did very little to hide it. His hoodie sweatshirt hung down, but not far enough. Further, the substantial increase in his member's girth and length gave him more to hide, making it doubly difficult.

There were several girls in the viola and bass section who sat with a view down the piano keyboard, and they could see Exactly what was going on!

Those girls included Diana and Kelly, who happened (sort-of) to glance over and down to spot the point where Kevin's sweats intersected the bottom of the piano keyboard.

Kevin was working to come up with a solution.

Ms. G had stepped over and handed him the music. He had to stand to hand it out. But, he couldn't stand without giving away he had a protuberance.

Taking his music folder from the top of the piano, he turned away from the class and lowered it in front of himself, pressing in to keep things in tight. Fortunately for Diana and Kelly (and a couple of the girls behind them), his significant pants-distortion was quite visible in the bulge before he managed to obscure it.

Holding the folder in front of him in as casual a manner as he could, he walked over to Diana and handed her the pile and looked her in the eyes. "Diana, can you handle this? For me? You know where... everything goes?"

Diana's eyes and Kevin's met with a fire, and his hand touched hers while she took the papers.

Regardless of the words, the ideas that transferred between Kevin and Diana were only tangentially related to music. Diana's sex-obsessed brain heard Kevin's words differently.

To her, he'd ask her a clear question -- was she physically able and ready to handle, literally hold, his manhood. Her mental term was, 'member'. She sometimes giggled at that idea, but this wasn't a giggling matter! This was a significant, life-event question!

The next part of what he asked was if she knew where 'everything goes'. To him, mostly, he meant which music went to which instrument, but her mind was focused on one "instrument" in particular.

She did, in fact, know where that went, or could go, and she was so horny could just picture how it would fill both her mouth and then immediately after that, a different part of her, a cleft that had an open spot crying to be made whole and One with something Upright and Definite.

Her voice uttered a word that wasn't just about handing out sheet music.

What she would say, the concepts banging around in her head coming together as a single words, would MEAN things. It would have that meaning for all things and ALL questions then and forever in the future, for _Anything_ Kevin could ask. The word was The Answer.

She said with an intensity that carried her soul into her eyes and thus into his, "YES."

Kevin's tingling center pulled in what she'd meant and how deeply she resonated with it. It became a thing that was not a secret, anymore.

That word came through him and into his center to expand it and amplify it, and then go out to her again as a wave of unseen power that just kind of rang out into the room.

Only those nearby heard the word, but everyone felt a bump as the power, the acceptance, flowed through them, too.

Kelly, sitting next to Diana, heard the word and felt the bump, then looked at Kevin as he handed the papers off. She was aware of what was happening and what kind of a vision she was having, too, this time with a fuzzy pubic hair mound over that same cleft and the same kind of movement coming up the center towards her, a Thing She Wanted.

Diana had split the pile in two and handed some to Kelly. Kevin looked over at Kelly then, and Kelly's soul-connection rang out just the same as Diana's.

Kelly's clarity rang out across her brain not in a word but the same way Diana had it ring.

Kelly said, "YES."

What had just happened wasn't more than a second or two, and almost no one else noticed the words exchanged. The only other person that did was first-chair flute, Madison (Mads to her friends). She turned as he'd approached Diana, heard it, connected with them, and felt the energy flow as they'd said, 'YES'.