By the time Wembly made it to the locker room it was already populated with strapping young guys who were busy getting changed for class. The first ones he saw by the door were huge and fully stripped down to their underwear. They must have been seniors. Wembley tried to keep himself from looking at them directly. He wasn't very comfortable with nudity and he didn’t want anyone to engage him in conversation. Even while keeping his gaze low, he was treated to a clear view of their legs which were like rippling pillars of fuzzy, creamy skin, planted securely on big, wide feet with manly, splayed toes. He felt like such a runt in their presence.
As he made his way deeper into the room, he was relieved to find more reasonably sized boys, though each of them still sported the thick, smooth musculature and giant feet that he so obviously lacked. The room was clearly arranged with the older guys at the front and the younger ones towards the back. Besides clear differences in size between the two extremes, there was also a striking difference in maturity. The youngest ones were rough-housing and whooping around like monkeys. One of them had another in a headlock and two others were wrestling wildly on the ground.
Everyone was chatting up a storm, but he realized he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Their deep voices and lazy, rural accents were echoing off the walls and blending together to the point that it was impossible to understand anything that was being said.
As soon as Wembly found the coaches office, he quickly ducked inside, so as to slip away from all the playful commotion, and was immediately relieved to find that the noise level fell off considerably in the large, adjoining room. The office apparently pulled double-duty as storage space. The humongous, vintage, metal desk that sat directly in front of the door was surrounded by piles of discarded sporting equipment, and the walls were completely covered in shelves that were filled with even more equipment of every kind. He recognized most of it, but there was still the odd piece or two that left him completely at a loss as to what they could be used for. The coach wasn’t around, so he figured he’d mull about for a while and wait for him to show up. He didn’t really want to go back out into the locker room and risk getting caught up in the bumptious activity.
Standing there nervously, wondering when the coach would arrive, he cast his eyes around the room and noticed one large piece of equipment in particular that looked especially out of place. It was a barrel-shaped contraption that looked like one of those pommel horses that olympic gymnasts perform routines on, but it looked chunkier and lumpier, as if it were meant to approximate the body of an actual horse. It was covered in thick, aged leather and there was an industrial looking motor mounted in the space beneath it. Built into the front was a large, tan, tube-shaped, rubber nozzle. It was ruffled like an accordion and looked like it was meant to mechanically perform some kind of pumping action. There was an unusual smell that seemed to emanate from the rubber nozzle, a smell that reminded Wembly of party balloons. It mixed cloyingly with the odor of the leather and somehow dominated the room with its powerful scent, no small feat in the face of all the other smells hanging in the air…
Wembly couldn’t tell what it was about the smell, but there was definitely something intriguing about it. It had a depth and complexity that always seemed to be right on the edge of his perception. He repeatedly breathed deeply through his nostrils, experimentally trying to catch another hint of the complex bouquet, but each time his mind came back with the same report: “balloons… leather… ?????”. There was something else in there that didn’t really smell like anything, but that his nose was telling him smelled wonderful.
“Already takin’ a shine ta ol’ Sadie Girl, eh?” A man's voice bellowed from behind him.
“Huh?” Wembly shook his head, instantly aware that he’d been caught in a daze.
“Nothin’ to be embarrassed ‘bout Son; yer in good compny. I’ve only got two kinds a boys ‘round here; those who’ve taken Sadie for a ride and those who won’t admit it!” He gave a warm smile and a friendly, knowing nod that Wembly felt he didn’t get the full meaning of. “Ain’t that right Cooper?”
A boy who’s locker was right across from the office looked up from tying his shoes with a startled, embarrassed look on his face. “I.. I… Uh… What was that, Sir?” He was looking frantic and out of sorts. The coach had clearly put him in an uncomfortable position.
“Never mind, Son. Go on back to what you were doin’.” The coach said, rolling his eyes with a little grin.
“Thank you, Sir.” Cooper replied with visible relief.
“Now. What can I do for you, Mr…?” The Coach began.
“Whittle.” Wembly replied with a slight over-eagerness. “I”m new, and... I’ve got a note!”
He handed the coach the note and cringed at his own inept handling of their interaction so far.
“Says here ya gotta sit out of all physical activity… That’s too bad… I sure hope you get ta feelin’ better… But don’ worry, Son. There’s lots ya can do from the sidelines. Ya can still support yer team! Cheer ‘em on and think up strategies to help ‘em win. That’ll do ‘em proud! What size shirt do you wear?”
He pulled out a drawer in his desk. It was filled with new looking uniforms that matched the ones all the other boys were changing into.
“Um, Medium… But -”
“Too bad, I’ve only got large and extra large...”
“Large is fin-”
“That’s alright, we play shirts ‘n skins, so you can be on skins every day! At least until ya put on a little size...”
“Wait, what?!”
“Here’s a pair of shorts.” The coach said, quickly tossing a pair of green gym shorts at Wembly’s face. “Hey, Douglass! Why don’t you and Cooper show the new one ‘round and get him set up with his own locker. Don't’ worry if ya miss warm-ups, just meet us out on the field, and ya can both join him on the skins team today!”
“Sure thing, Coach, and THANKS!” Another boy called out from behind Cooper as they both eagerly stripped off their shirts and tossed them back into their lockers.
Wembly wanted to protest but the coach had already filed his note away, closed the desk, and walked out into the gymnasium through his office’s rear entrance. He tried in vain to pull the desk drawer back open but it was locked tight.
“Come on, I’ll find ya a locker here next ta ours.” Cooper called into the office.
Wembly gave up on prying the desk open. He could already see how it would go if he showed up to class wearing the other team’s “uniform” anyway. The coach would probably think he was showing disloyalty. His best bet would be to just keep his t-shirt on and hope the coach wouldn’t actually make him sit shirtless in the bleachers.
“Hey, Kid. My name’s Dale, and this is Roger.” Douglas said, gesturing to Cooper. “What’s yer name?”
“Wembly…. Whittle.”
“We use last names around here a lot, Whittle; especially Coach. We usually write ‘em on our shirts, but since yer too small for one, ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout that. Go ahead and get changed and put your stuff in here.” He pulled open an empty locker and motioned for Wembly to use it.
While Wembly was busy getting dressed the other two boys started talking about what coach had said about Sadie.
“What is that thing anyway?” Wembly asked out of curiosity.
“Oh, ya don’t recognize that? She’s an ooooold piece of farm equipment... Invented in this very town!” Douglas stated with pride.
“That’s right. It’s an antique and an original protatype.” Cooper chimed in. “It was invented WAY back in the 1800’s by Ignacious Fick! That’s why they named the school after him!”
“Greenlands High School?” Wembly asked with confusion.
“Yeah!” Cooper said, nodding excitedly and beaming with pride. “I guess ya didn’t realize what a important town this really is.”
“I guess not...” Wembly stated bemusedly. “But… Uh… What does it do though?”
“Oh, that’s the best part. It’s a highly automated semen extractor for, why, for all KINDS a livestock! You put that sucker out in a field and boy-Oh, it’ll collect all the semen ya need lickety-quick!”
“Nasty!” Wembly exclaimed, covering his face with the crook of his arm. He felt like he was going to be sick. “Why would you have that in your locker room?”
“It’s not. It’s in Coach’s office. It’s a heirloom and a piece a history! That machine is a big part of our culture and heritage in this town. I mean, the school’s named after the inventor ‘n everything! Now that you’re one of us, it’s a part of yer heritage too!”
*Fantastic* Wembly thought, but nothing about their explanation made any sense. What he saw in the office was no antique from the 1800’s. It was fairly modern and motorized. And how was the school named after the inventor? Their names had nothing in common. It didn’t add up.
“Are you guys messing with me?” Wembly asked sincerely, noting to himself that he seemed to be asking that question of people a lot today. “What does it really do?”
“For real, that’s what it’s fer!” Douglas assured him. “And it does a real good job too. It works on critters a all sizes, even younguns. It adjust itself to fit no matter what!.. Real good design… ‘n it’s great for getting young colts and bull calves introduced to the whole process so they get some good practice learnin’ how to rut safely, soes they don’t hurt the breedin’ stock when they’re older. That way when they’re adults, ya might not even need the machine no more. Just let ‘em go at it all-natural-like.”
“Yeah, like free-range. It’s more humane fer ‘em.” Cooper added in agreement.
Wembly was no expert on the topic of farm breeding, but he thought the main purpose of artificial insemination was to allow for selective breeding. Allowing livestock to breed indiscriminately would defeat the whole purpose. The farmer would give up all genetic control over his livestock... He could see how that sort of device would become a useless piece of obscure farm memorabilia, but if that’s the best invention to come out of the town, perhaps it made sense to keep it on display?
“Plus we like to tease the freshmen with her at the start of the year when none of them’s got a girlfriend. We tell ‘em ‘Sadie Girl’ is the only girl they can get, but it’s just funnin. They all find themselves girlfriends real quick.”
“Is that what the coach was talking about when he said you guys had all ‘ridden’ Sadie before?”
The boys blushed and squirmed oddly at the notion.
“Well, yeah, but we all know it’s just a joke!” Cooper stated emphatically. ”Nobody really does that or nothin. I mean, I know I never have; I get real girls! And I Always have!”
“Yeah, me too!” Douglas declared a little too eagerly. “Always.”
Wembly couldn’t blame them for their awkward discomfort and unease at the topic. It was obvious they’d been raised in a town filled to the brim with toxic masculinity. All the hazing they’d received when they were freshmen must have been humiliating. They couldn’t admit to any perceived weakness.
“I know it’s just a joke guys. It’s cool.” Wembly assured them.
They both seemed to relax at that and shared an understanding nod between themselves.
“And we’re not gonna tease you or nothin’. Even though it’s tradition. I mean, you’ve already got one anyway, right? I saw you at lunch with Liana. She’s your girl?”
“Huh?” Wembly asked, a little shocked by the notion. “I just met her. We’re not really together or anything.”
“Oh...” Cooper said with a growing grin. “Then maybe ya do need Sadie after all!”
Wembly just rolled his eyes. He was so above that kind of teasing.
“Anyways, we oughta hurry. The others are bound to be done doing warm-ups by now. Git yer shirt off and we’ll head out to the field.”
“That’s alright, I think I’ll keep it on, It’s getting cold outside these days and-”
“Come on, fella. We’re skins!” Douglas shouted gleefully before reaching over Wembly’s shoulders and grabbing the back of his shirt. He pulled it up over Wembly’s head and off his arms in one smooth motion.
Wembly couldn’t believe a stranger would do that to him. He tried to snatch it back but Douglas easily held it out of his reach, then he ducked into the coach’s office and tossed the shirt up onto the highest equipment shelf where Wembly wouldn’t have a chance of reaching it.
“We’re just playin’. I’ll help you get it down after class. Now let’s go so you can watch your first game. We’re gonna win fer sher!” Cooper cheered as the boys jogged for the exit. Wembly was mortified at the loss of his shirt and only followed along behind them because he didn’t see any other option, but this kind of behavior was totally unacceptable… If it had happened in his old school, he’d have reported the incident. Maybe he should do the same here… maybe Liana’s dad would be able to do something about that kind of behavior….