Cherry the Cheerleader (chapter 7) - Sex Stories

Cherry the Cheerleader (chapter 7)

... you?” His question quickly became rhetorical when he saw my eyes become as glassy as his. I had told no one about the dream of Katie and me on the playground with the voices of the other kids that were not there. Only I knew what it meant (at least to Katie). A tear pooled and ran down my face and I irrationally tried to quickly wipe it away before he saw it. It was unlikely that he saw my own tear as his eyes were already flooding; he didn’t even try to hide it. We both seemed to realize at the same time that we were two guys blubbering in front of a fire house in broad daylight and composed ourselves accordingly. After taking a deep breath, I told Bill about my dreams of Katie—specifically about the playground and what she said it meant to her. He said that he wasn’t surprised when he saw last Friday’s paper headline because Katie had told him I was working on fixing the intersection. The longer we talked, the more inescapable the implications became. I said, “Listen…Bill… I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but can we keep this conversation between us? At least for now, anyway. This is a lot for me to process and I don’t want anyone thinking I’ve lost my mind or calling me crazy. You know?” Bill asked, “You think I want to tell anyone about this?! I didn’t even want to talk to you about it! But she asked me to so—you know—I had to.” I nodded in understanding and said, “Can I give you my number? If you need to talk or want to share anything that happens or have ...

... questions that I might be able to answer…” He said, “Yeah, of course!” Bill gave me his number also and commented that having this dialogue gave him (in a small way) part of his daughter back. Knowing that this was evidently more than just vivid dreams and that she had been able to communicate with us was not something a father could put a dollar value on. I told Bill that I would tell him any time I had a dream about Katie; no matter how insignificant it seemed to me. He appreciated the offer and said he would do the same. We shook hands again before Bill went on his way; each of us promised to keep in touch. His number was programmed in my phone, even before I continued the maintenance on the fire hoses. I finished my tasking and was re-stowing the gear when one of the guys asked me what Bill wanted. I told him who he was and said he only wanted to thank me for trying to help his daughter; nothing more. That explanation was apparently sufficient and the subject was never brought up again. A few fairly uneventful days later, I got off work and found I had a package receipt in the mail. I was certainly not expecting a package, but went to pick it up all the same. In route to the post office, I called Cherry to ask her if she sent me something, but she said that she had not. The postal clerk handed me a some-what small sized box and the mystery only grew. The return address seemed a little familiar, but I didn’t give it a lot of thought. Once back at my apartment, I opened the ...