American Teen - Cover

American Teen

Copyright© 2021 by Aaron Stone

Chapter 7

I felt well-rested and less sore when I woke up early Sunday morning. I chased the hens and found a nice batch of eggs that I gave to Grandma. I went to milk the cows and saw Mom milking Daisy, so I started on Amber.

“Thought I’d give you a hand in case you were still under the weather.”

“Nope, I’m as right as rain,” I smiled, before remembering my after church activity for the day.

“Don’t worry about today, Tommy. Dad will be with you and you have the truth on your side.”

“Well, as long as you’ll visit me in the big house, I’ll be okay,” I teased and Mom laughed.

We continued to talk and kept things light, but I still had a strange feeling that something was wrong. I hoped I was imagining things, but I would have been very wise to have listened to those feelings.

We washed up and went inside and enjoyed a great breakfast. Then it was off to church.

After the service, I was cornered by my friends Karl, Axel, and Johnny.

“I heard you got into some trouble on Friday with Janie Parker,” said Johnny.

“Where did you hear that?” I asked.

“Tim Walton was running his mouth at Mickey D’s last night. He said you attacked her or something,” said Johnny.

“Is it true?” asked Karl.

I rolled my eyes.

“Of course it isn’t true, you moron, right, Tommy?” asked Axel

“There was some trouble, but I didn’t ‘attack’ Janie. I defended her.”

“Really?” asked Johnny.

“Yeah, I can’t say anything more because I am getting interviewed by the police in a few minutes, but my dad says it’s just routine.”

As if on cue, my dad walked over. “Hi boys,” and looked at me. “Ready, Champ?”

“Yeah, Dad. Let’s go.”


“First of all, we have a number of questions, because the accounts we’ve received from several of the parties is so different. We’re hoping that you can help to shed some light on what really happened,” stated the detective.

When we had arrived, the detective had introduced himself as Detective Byars. Now, he was sitting next to a uniformed officer across the table from me and Dad in the interview room.

“Okay,” I said. I felt my dad squeeze my hand and I felt a little calmer.

“First of all, at what point did you get intimate with the Parker girl?” asked the detective.

“What?”

“When did you start making out or having sex?”

“Detective, where is this going?” asked my dad.

“We want to know at what point your client engaged in sexual contact with Mary Jane Parker.”

“I’ve never had sexual contact with Janie,” I said.

“That’s not what the girl said.”

My dad stood up. “Okay, gentlemen. We’re done, here.”

“What?” asked the detective?

“You’re lying, and I won’t let you try to trick an inaccurate confession out of my client,” said my dad. “Let’s go, Tommy.”

We started walking out of the interview room and the detective followed.

“Now see here, Matthews.”

“No, you see here. You disgust me! Using a cheap trick on a fourteen-year-old boy. I’m going to complain to the D.A. about your tactics!”

We started moving to the front door and Detective Byars continued to follow and argue.

“Now wait a minute. I asked a question...” started the detective.

We were now outside, walking toward my dad’s Audi.

“And my client gave you an answer. ‘Asked and answered.’ Then you accused him of lying, by lying about what the victim reported. We’re finished here, Detective!” yelled my dad.

My dad opened his side of the car and I started to move to the other side.

“No, we aren’t. We can hold him...”

I stopped at the detective’s words. I looked at my dad and I saw rage in his eyes. I had rarely seen that look. The only other time that I could remember was when I bent his putter goofing around back when we lived in Pittsburgh. Back then, I had almost wet my pants at Dad’s reaction.

“That would be a mistake. The kind of mistake that could cost you your job!”

“Is that a threat, Matthews?”

“It’s ‘Mister Matthews’ or ‘Attorney Matthews’ to you, Detective. Your lack of courtesy is both surprising and disappointing.”

Dad put the keys in the ignition and then picked up the receiver from his car phone, looked for a number, and dialed. A few moments later someone must have answered.

“Hey Rick, it’s John Matthews. Sorry to bug you on a Sunday but I am down at the main East Chilton precinct and I’m dealing with a Detective Byars. Yeah, it’s about the whole Blanton/Parker mess. It appears that Detective Byars wants to hold my fourteen-year-old son, Tommy, as a material witness. Oh, would you like to speak to him? Okay.”

My dad handed the phone receiver over to Detective Byars. “It’s for you,” grinned my dad smugly and I saw Detective Byars turn pale. I loved my dad. He could be a real shark when he wanted to be.

“Yes, who am I speaking to?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir, the suspect is not cooperating.”

“I know, Sir. I meant the witness, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir. It’s just that...”

“Okay, Sir.”

Detective Byars extended the phone receiver towards my dad. He looked devastated. “He wants to talk to you.”

My father took the phone receiver back from the detective. “Rick, I don’t approve of the tactics this detective is using against a fourteen-year-old boy.”

“Yes, I said ‘tactics.’ He lied about another witness’ statement to try to extract an inaccurate confession.”

“I know it’s legal under some circumstances but we’re talking about a fourteen-year-old boy who contends he was protecting his fourteen-year-old friend from an adult who was assaulting her. We both know that isn’t going to fly with any judge. Especially concerning a boy like Tommy.”

“Okay. Here’s your guy. I expect an apology and a different detective or we’re out of here.”


“We’re sorry about the way your first interview was handled, Son,” said Detective Sergeant McCoy.

“That’s okay. I just want to tell the truth and go home,” I replied.

It had been a long afternoon, as Detective Byars’s boss had to be called in to interview me. I was getting seriously hungry, despite the Snickers bar I had about an hour ago.

“Okay, just to confirm what you said to Detective Byars, you’ve never been sexually involved with Mary Jane Parker.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Have you ever kissed her?”

“She kissed me on the cheek, but that’s all.”

“Please tell what happened, starting from when you arrived at the Parker’s house on Friday.”

I told him about going there with Janie and Jennifer Bridges and studying until Janie’s mother arrived at about four o’clock. Then I explained about Lisa Parker’s bizarre and troubling behavior that embarrassed and upset both Janie and Jennifer, forcing Jennifer to leave.

“And then you held Mary Jane as she cried,” asked McCoy.

“Yes.”

“And you touched her?”

“Only to hold her and I stroked her hair. She was very upset.”

“No touching her breast or privates with your hands?”

“I did not touch her that way,” I simply said.

“And were you upset?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Her mother scared me. She touched me with her sharp fingernail under my chin. She acted really creepy.”

“How so?”

“Besides the fingernail thing, she kept calling me ‘young prince’. She also called me by the wrong name on purpose.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t an honest mistake?”

“The name she called me was someone who considers himself a rival for Janie’s affection. She hinted that her daughter was promiscuous in the process of making ‘that mistake.’ Janie appeared mortified.”

“After you comforted Mary Jane, what happened next?”

I explained meeting her father and the improvement in Janie’s mood. Then I explained what happened at dinner and Blanton’s surprising arrival.

“And he just walked up the stairs and into the kitchen? He never knocked or used the doorbell?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And you found this normal?”

“Of course not! Who visits a house where one doesn’t live by showing up unannounced and just walking in without ringing the doorbell or knocking?!” I asked.

“Okay, what happened next?”

I explained how Blanton just took over the whole room as if he owned everything and everyone in the house.

“He even said he did,” I reported.

“Interesting. How did you reply?”

“While I respect my elders, I found Mr. Blanton’s attitude and actions to be rude and disrespectful to the owners of the house, so I told him so.”

I then went on to explain how Blanton had canceled my date with Janie because she needed ‘correcting’ and ordered Chad Parker to drive me home and not return for at least two hours.

When I mentioned this, Sergeant McCoy frowned but nodded. I then mentioned that I followed Mr. Parker as far as the entrance to the garage from the den, but changed my mind and went back upstairs.

“What made you do this?”

“I remembered things that both Janie and Jennifer said. Based on my memories and Mr. Blanton’s ‘correction’ comment, I thought that something bad might have been happening.”

I then explained how I barged past the eavesdropping Mrs. Parker and kicked down the cheap door, confronted Blanton leering over a topless Janie.

“How did he respond to your challenge?”

“He swore at me and threw a wild punch that I ducked. I then hit him as hard as I could right in his solar plexus.”

“I was an Olympic middle-weight contender in ‘64. I taught my son everything he knows,” explained my dad.

Sergeant McCoy nodded and turned back to me. “And he went down?”

“Yeah, he was so big I wasn’t sure if he would.”

“And then?”

“I gave Janie her shirt so she could cover up and called my dad.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“Because I didn’t trust the adults at the house to tell the truth.”

I saw my dad smiling at me when I made my last statement.

“Well, based upon your statement so far, I can see why you would say that,” observed Detective Sergeant McCoy.

“I did call the police after I got to the scene,” my father added.

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