Best Friends (Proclaimed in Pee)

I had a very good friend during the second and third grades, long before either of us discovered anything about our bodies. We constantly hung out together. Among other marks of friendship, we pee'd together in secret places such as the bushes in the alley behind his house.

I overheard my mother tell my dad that it was cute the way Drew and I had become "best friends." That phrase was new to me, but I immediately liked it. I couldn't wait to tell Drew what she had said. The two of us agreed that we were definitely "best friends."

Not long after that, when we were pissing side-by-side and observing each other's little weenies peeking out of our zippers, Drew had a bright idea. He said we needed to have an initiation ceremony to prove our friendship. Neither of us really knew what "initiation" meant, but we proceeded to make up a ceremony.

We talked it over and knew without any doubt that mingling our pee would be the sort of deep secret that we needed. We had just pissed, so we were fresh out of ammo at that moment. But Drew ran into the house and came out with several paper cups which we hid under their garbage can rack.

The next time we pissed, we made a big deal out of it. We pulled our dickies farther out of our pants than usual. Drew held a cup for me to pee into and I held one for him. Then we mixed our piss together and stirred it with a twig, whispering funny but meaningless magic words. Then we divided the mixture, each of us holding a cup about half full. Still hyping the secrecy and the cosmic importance of our little ceremony, we hurried to his front yard where he poured his small cupful of our combined urine into the flower bed and stuck a Popsicle stick in the wet spot as a marker.

Then we walked a block and a half to my house. This part of the plan worried me. I could imagine encountering some older boy who would ask "Wha'cha got there, man? A cup of piss?" Or an adult who would make the ultimate threat, "Does your mother know about this?" Of course nothing like that happened, but my stomach was churning anyway while we walked along the sidewalk. I carried my little container of pee, frightened that people in every house were watching and knew we were up to something no good.

We got to my house and looked all around to make sure none of the neighbors were outside. That in itself probably made us appear guilty as hell. Then I poured my portion of shared pee into the flower bed and planted my own Popsicle stick. Drew said to me, "You are now my best friend." I repeated the words to him and felt like something spectacular had taken place.

Drew and I performed variations on the shared-piss ceremony again and again. We became much more familiar with each other's little peters and got bold enough to drop our pants and undies so we could tickle our little packages of exposed junk. We giggled at the eerie feelings and prickly goosebumps that we gave each other.

And we constantly reminded one another in secret whispers that we were "best friends."

 Martin Davis