Father, Mother, and Billy

Father was tall and strong and muscly and firm and hairy, and he playfought with Billy ever since Billy was tiny. Mother told Billy to stop being a wuss when he cried out in pain.

Mother always said feminists were making all the men weak and girlish. Together with Father, they wanted to make sure Billy did not grow up weak and girlish, but strong and manly like Father. Whenever he was around the house, Father would playfight Billy, and during summers they would jump in the pool together where he would teach Billy to swim and playfight in the water. What fun, cried out Mother, watching her two gorgeous male beasts, one small and one large trying to drown each other. The water splashed in a beautiful sparkly arc through the warm summer air and broke over her dress- “Oh you two!” cried Mother joyfully, her eyes shining the same colour as the pool. “I’ve half a mind to jump in and join you right now- Lord knows I’m wet enough that it won’t make a bit of difference! Oh shush Billy, you’re fine!” She never jumped in.

The years passed and the playfighting continued, in the bedroom on the bed, in the living room on the couch, and always in the pool during summer. Father always beat Billy, pinning him down and making him tap out, but it was becoming a little bit harder. Father didn’t think Billy noticed, hell he didn’t notice himself sometimes, but it seemed to take him a tad longer to get Billy down, only sometimes. Billy was getting taller and stronger too, everybody noticed, he had surpassed Mother this year “although that’s not hard”, as Mother remarked, looking up at her growing son with shining eyes the colour of a freshly-filled summer pool. Father saw her looking up into Billy’s soft but hardening face, and his gut twisted. Billy’s skin was silky-smooth still peppered with soft golden hairs but his face was roughening. His muscles were coming in lean and taut- Billy had started hitting the gym everyday earlier that year and now the pool was filled with shining blue summer water.

The first warm day was the first water-playfight of the summer, “Look at them- they can hardly wait to get to it!” laughed Mother as they tore off their clothes and dove in. Father and son went for each other, Mother watching every move with glinting eyes. Billy felt stronger than he had ever felt before - all the hatred and fear of the years gathered in his arms and he went for the kill, holding Father’s head down and trying to pin his flailing limbs with his own legs. Father knew it was now or never, his rage at growing old and weak and Billy becoming strong and manly broke through in one ungodly move, he got the upper hand and held down Billy’s head under water until Billy stopped moving.