Chapter 34

We didn't play any golf on Sunday. Mama was up and eating by the time Dad and I came home on Saturday. I quickly made myself scarce, making sure they had some privacy, so they could repair the latest tear in the fabric of their relationship. I went into town, driving around, looking for something to do to kill a part of a chilly afternoon.

I wound up over at the high school, watching a bunch of boys my own age playing basketball on the court set up outside. I'd never played any basketball, but I'd watched games on television. The game they were playing out on the playground was a lot different than what I'd previously seen. There was a lot more contact, for one thing, and most times, the play ended when the ball was thrown or kicked out of bounds. On television, all the passing was quick and smooth, and play usually ended when someone scored a basket, or went to the free throw line. The game I was now watching, looked a lot more interesting to me.

I watched from the relative warmth and comfort of my car for about fifteen minutes, before deciding to get out, and walk over, to get a closer look at the action. There were ten boys playing on the court, and another six or seven boys, waiting around, to take their turn. One of the boys I recognized, it was Gary Carstairs. I hadn't recognized him earlier, because he was sitting down on the ground, perched on a basketball, watching the other boys play.

"Hi, Gary." He turned around, to see who was calling him. I could see he was surprised to see me standing there.

"Oh, hey, Kenny. What's going on?" He turned his head back to the game, as I did, watching as two of the boys had gotten into a pushing and shouting match, over one of the them feeling like the other one was deliberately fouling him. Tempers flared, and then, just as quickly, they subsided again, and play was resumed.

"This isn't much like the games I've watched on TV. These guys aren't very good."

"They're all pretty good by me. I mean they aren't pro's or anything, but, they're all better than I am."

"You're taller though. How danged tall are you now, Gary? I'm six one, and you look a lot taller than me." Gary stood up. I knew he was either twelve, or, possibly had turned thirteen. He was at least three inches taller than I was. He was still very thin though. I doubted he weighed more than about one twenty five, or one thirty at the most. He reached down and picked up his basketball with one hand.

"I've got to get back home. We're supposed to go out to the club tonight, for the dance. I wish they wouldn't keep dragging me out there. I hate it."

"I'm leaving too. I was just riding around, killing some time. You want a ride?" He nodded that he did, and we walked back over to my car.

"Is this yours, or your parents?"

"It's mine. I got it for my birthday, but I only got my real license a week ago. I can drive myself to school now."

"You're lucky. I wish I was older. Being so tall, people always think I'm older than thirteen. I'm treated like a freak in my school, but when I try to play with the high school kids, they think I'm some kind of "Spaz" because I don't have much coordination yet. I wish I could just skip right past all this growing up stage, and be like twenty one already. I hate not knowing when I'm going to quit growing."

"Well, when you do stop growing, you already know you're going to be tall. I'd much rather be too tall than too short." We left it at that, and I pulled up into his driveway. The first thing I noticed was that their dog, Brownie, was still chained up in his usual spot. The second thing I noticed was that Emily was standing out on her front steps trying to see who was pulling into her driveway. Just before Gary reached for the handle to let himself out, I thanked him for calling me to let me know about what was happening to Shirley. He blushed at my expressing thanks, and nodded his head as he opened the door and stepped out of my car.

I almost made it out of their driveway before Emily intercepted me. I could see that she had finally realized who it was bringing her brother home, because she yelled out my name, and started running down to where my car was. She came right over to my side and stood there, yelling for me to pull down my window. I hit the power window button and watched as my window slid down.

"Kenny! I couldn't tell it was you at first. Your hair is so much longer now, and you look bigger." I didn't say anything to her. I was trying to figure out how I wanted to act around her. It had been a few months now since her phone call, the one that had altered my whole life. Part of me was still mad at her, disappointed with the choice she had made, with the reason that was behind the choice. There was the further complication that it was possible that Emily was my real half sister, and Gary my real half brother. "You aren't still upset with me, are you?"

"Hi, Emily. I don't know what I am at you. I ran into Gary at the high school, and offered him a lift home. So, how have you been?"

"You don't want me to get started on all of that. I hate my life, let's just let it go at that."

"Okay. I've got to go. Nice seeing you again."

"Wait, we didn't get a chance to talk! Nobody gets a chance to see you anymore. I missed talking to you. I wish you'd just stop being mad at me, and be my friend again."

"I'm sorry, Emily. I don't feel like being your friend right now. The last time, when I thought I was your friend, you didn't treat me that way." I put my car into reverse, but Emily came forward and put her hand on my window.

"Kenny! I've apologized for that already. I wish I'd never made that call, or told you about it. I thought I was doing you a favor when I told you. Okay, I told you because I wanted Brenda for myself, but, I still thought you should know what she was doing. It wasn't only just for me. I liked you too, and I knew you'd find out sooner or later, and you'd be hurt a lot more if it was later. You should give me a little credit for worrying about you." I hadn't really considered that aspect of it, that part of her reason might have been to help me. It didn't change things, but, it did mitigate them a little. I knew, as soon as she said it, that my finding out about Brenda and Gary later would have been a lot worse for me. As bad as it had been, I wasn't sure I'd have been able to get over a deeper wound from Brenda's cheating, and then, lying to me about it.

"Emily, I already told you I wasn't mad because you told me. It was why you told me. You betrayed two friendships when you did that. I admit, now, that I'm happy that you told me about Brenda and Gary. I just wish you hadn't done so for the reason that you did."

"Brenda's punished me enough for both of you. She treats me really bad, and she hasn't let me even get close enough to touch her, ever since that day I told you. She told everybody in school that I'm a big lezzie too. I'm not. Brenda is the only girl I ever felt like that about."

"I've got to go. Let me think about this. I've got a nice girlfriend now, and I don't think she'd want me associating with any of Brenda's friends. Even if you aren't Brenda's friend now, Shirley knows about you, and the stuff the three of us all did together. Shirley is the most important person in my life right now, and I'm not going to do anything to ruin that." I could see that Emily was disappointed at my words. I guess she thought, because I listened to her, that I'd do what she wanted me to.

I'd think about things, not so much because of what Emily wanted, or what she had said. I needed to find out first if she was my half sister. Anne Coulter didn't know. From what she said, he was only one of seven or eight possibles. She hadn't even admitted that she had sex with Emily's father. I was tall though, and Gary was even taller than me. I knew that didn't prove anything. By that criteria, it was more likely that Shirley's father was my real father, and Gary's too, because Gary was already taller than Mr. Carstairs.

When I got back home, Mama and Dad were upstairs together. I didn't hear any yelling though. I ate dinner with my family, and when they went back upstairs, right after dinner, I started getting restless. It occurred to me that I had organized my whole life around school, Shirley, and my family. I didn't really have any other friends now. With Shirley gone, and Mama and Dad busy making up, I had no one close, other than Gerta and Hans, that I could spend time with. I went into the kitchen, but Gerta and Hans were in a hurry to finish cleaning up. They told me they were going out to visit some of their friends. Scratch them off my short list too. Saturday night and nothing to do, nowhere to go. That's when I got the idea to go out to the dance at the club. I was already bored, at least the club would have people, music, and the possibility of something that wasn't boring.

I went to the phone and called Uncle Bunny, but no one answered. It was almost eight o'clock. Maybe he and Elizabeth had already gone to the club. I hurried up to my room and showered and got ready. It was almost nine before I pulled into the parking lot at the club. When I walked into the dance, it was pretty dark, and I had trouble seeing well enough to look at all the people in attendance. I did see the Carstairs family though, and I also saw Richard and Emily sitting at a table. I looked out at the dancers, and found Mr. and Mrs. Connor out there, dancing together. It took me five more minutes before I was certain that Uncle Bunny wasn't at the club dance. I briefly considered the idea of leaving.

I went over to the bar and bought a Coke. A dollar, just for a small glass of Coke. There was a machine down the stairs that sold twelve ounce cans for fifty cents. I paid the dollar, but I didn't leave a tip. It wasn't the bartender's fault, but that was a rip off. I found an empty two person table, and sat down to watch. It was the usual crowd, and there were a lot more people sitting and talking, than people actually dancing. I had already decided that I wasn't going to be dancing. Five minutes after I sat down, Brenda came over and plopped herself down in the other chair. She had a big smile on her face. I think she was hoping I'd think her being there with me was acceptable, or that I wouldn't make a scene.

"Hi, Kenny, remember me?" I just looked at her, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face, careful not to say anything to her. "I like the way you've let your hair grow. It really makes you look sexier. Not that you needed any help with that. Come dance with me, Kenny."

"Excuse me, Brenda. I need to use the restroom." I got up and walked away. I felt a little bit drained, just from that short time sitting close to her. I felt a little ashamed of myself for having such a reaction to her, and guilty too. I told myself it was simply a physical reaction, probably a conditioned response. As nonchalantly as I could manage it, I adjusted my hard on in my slacks. One minute sitting in front of me, and she already had me playing pocket pool in my trousers. As I was washing my face and hands in the sink, I tried to think about all the bad things about Brenda. That helped, and I was feeling a little better when Richard walked into the men's room. He must have seen me come in there. It surprised me a little that he would come in after me. If he wanted to start something, the club should have been the last place he'd pick.

"My old man sent me in here to give you a message, Parsons. Keep your filthy hands off of Brenda. He likes it better now that you're not in the picture with her."

"Tell him that he and I want the same thing. I didn't come looking for her. Why don't you try to keep her away from me?"

"Don't try to dance with her."

"Richard, I'd sooner ask you to dance with me, and we both know I can't stand you." I moved past him, half expecting him to jump me and try to start something. I was about four inches taller than him now, and about even with him in weight. He hadn't done too well fighting me, back when we were the same height, and he outweighed me by thirty pounds or more. He didn't try anything. When I got back to my little table, Brenda was gone, and both her parents had her sitting between them. They were apparently speaking to her in stereo. I watched as both parents seemed to be berating her.

I was drinking my Coke slowly, not wanting it to look like I had been rushed into leaving by the Connors. As soon as I was finished though, I was planning to get up and leave. At home, I might be bored, but I wasn't in any danger of getting myself into trouble. At the club that night, I most certainly was.

If Emily had waited two more minutes, before coming over, and sitting in the chair Brenda had vacated, I'd have finished my Coke, and made my escape. Two more minutes was all I needed. Of course, if she had waited, I wouldn't be writing about what happened to us. She came over and sat down. I had noticed, earlier in the day, when I dropped Gary off, that Emily had really sprouted out in the breast department. The dress she was wearing at the dance that night, was designed to make this recent development even more noticeable and obvious. I noticed, but, unlike with Brenda, I didn't have any strong physical reaction to her.

"Hi, Kenny. Will you dance with me? Please? Just one dance, and I'll go back to my own table. I promise I won't bother you any more."

"I was just getting ready to leave, Emily. I just came by trying to find my Uncle, but he's not here tonight."

"Please, Kenny. There's kids here from school, and I told you the rumors Brenda's been spreading about me. If you got up and danced with me, after not dancing with Brenda, that would really help me a lot."

It didn't seem like that big of a deal. One dance. After it was over, I could walk Emily back to her table, and then just keep on walking, down the stairs, and out to my car. What possible harm could come from any of that? I stood up and held out my hand. We had just made it out to the dance floor, when a flash of green came moving right by me at lightning speed, and tackled Emily to the floor. It was Brenda of course, and she was apparently biting, hair pulling, scratching, and eye gouging mad. She was also screaming loudly into Emily's face while she did all of the above mentioned mayhem to her. I quickly reached down, attempting to separate the two combatants.

Somehow, my left hand settled on Brenda's left breast, when I lifted her straight up, off of Emily. That is what Mr. Connor noticed when he came running after Brenda. He punched me in the face, causing me to release my hold on Brenda as I was on my own way down to the floor. I was stunned by the force of the blow, but, surprisingly, unhurt by it. Catching the heel of Richard's shoe, right in the front of my forehead, quickly remedied that unhurt condition. I vaguely remember seeing a grinning Richard standing over me, but then, everything faded away, and I lost consciousness.

I was only knocked out for a few minutes, and, by the time the ambulance arrived, all I wanted was to get in my car and drive myself home. My head really hurt, and there was a cut on my forehead, right where the back of Richard's heel had contacted my head with such force that he'd torn through my skin there. Over my protests, the ambulance people insisted on taking me to the hospital, to get checked out by a doctor. They wouldn't even allow me to get up and walk out to the waiting ambulance. They put me on one of those stretchers that roll, and then they lifted it up, and carried me down the long flight of stairs. This whole time, while they were doing this, people were all coming around us, to take a look at me, wanting to see the blood, and the red welt forming on my forehead. I didn't much care for them doing any of that, but was in no position to stop them.

I wasn't at the hospital for more than five minutes, before Mama and Dad came rushing in. Mama was crying, and Dad looked really angry. Someone had called them from the country club, to tell them what had happened to me, and where they were taking me. It took the doctor about three minutes to convince Mama to leave me alone long enough for him to finish with the delicate stitching he was doing on my forehead. He had told me, at least five times already, that he was only stitching me to reduce the scarring that would occur. Hearing him talk about scarring sent Mama into a stronger fit of crying. I heard Dad say something. It sounded like he said Richard and Mr. Connor were going to prison for doing that to me.

"Dad, it looked bad to Mr. Connor. It looked to him like I was playing with Brenda's boob." Mama stopped crying, immediately.

"Did you patch it up with her, Kenny?" The way she asked that, I could tell that she hoped my answer would be yes.

"No! Mama, you need to give up on that idea. Brenda had tackled Emily when she and I were going to start dancing. They were fighting, and I lifted Brenda away from Emily, trying to separate them. When I grabbed her, I wasn't paying that much attention to where, but one of my hands was over one of her breasts, so Mr. Connor saw that, and he punched me. It knocked me down, and then, after that, Richard kicked me really hard, right in my head. I don't remember too much else, until just before the ambulance people came to get me. My car is still out at the club."

Dad spoke then. "Don't worry about your car. I'll have Hans run me out to get it for you in the morning. I tried calling Bunny, to let him know we need him, but he isn't at home. Walt and Richard have been arrested, and Walt's filed a counter complaint against you, for assaulting Brenda. We need to speak with Bunny, before we do anything. Walt had no business punching you. You're still a child. He's going to be damn sorry he ever laid a finger on you, Kenny, damn sorry. As for that son of his, that coward son of his, I'll see him in the state reform school for this. It takes a real coward to wait and attack someone when he's down, and he doesn't even know it's coming."

The doctor had finished stitching up the cut from the heel print. They had admitted me into the hospital, while the doctor was treating me, they said they were keeping me overnight, for observation. I would have rather gone home, but they didn't care what I wanted. They wheeled me back to my assigned room, telling both my parents that they had to leave, in order to let me get some rest. I couldn't sleep, so I played everything back again in my mind. I was worried about how all of this would look, and sound, to Shirley. I hadn't done anything wrong, but it still sounded bad, even to me, when I had tried to explain what happened to my parents. I could already hear the questions Shirley would be asking me. When I thought about the answers I'd give her, I wasn't optimistic about the outcome. Maybe, if this had all revolved around two other girls, but because it was Emily and Brenda, Shirley would be less likely to believe me when I told her how innocently it had all begun.

I don't want it to sound like Shirley was overly jealous or suspicious, because she really wasn't. She was curious though, and she was really good at asking initial questions, and even better at follow up questions. She was going to ask me what my reactions had been when Brenda came over to my table, and why I decided to dance with Emily anyway. I had tried to make it a point to be open and honest with Shirley. I thought it was the right thing to do, and I also didn't want to be lying to her, or taking any chance at all that she'd find out about me lying, later. I already knew what being lied to, by someone you loved and trusted, felt like. I sure didn't want to expose Shirley to that. I finally decided that I'd tell Shirley everything, and not wait for her to drag it out of me with her carefully crafted questions. I was innocent of everything, except, possibly, lacking good judgment.

That settled, I turned my thoughts to the Connor family. I was a little tempted to give Mr. Connor a pass, for his hitting me that one punch. It must have looked bad to him, just minutes after sending Richard in to warn me about leaving Brenda alone, to see me with my hand all over her titty like that. He had hit me, but it really hadn't hurt much at all. In a way, it was kind of funny, the way it must have looked to him being so different from the way it actually was. I hoped Shirley would see it the same way I did.

Richard Connor. I'd known him for a year and a half, and I'd liked him for less than five minutes of that time. I'd long since given up on any thought that I'd ever like him. He just wasn't someone I could ever like. It was funny too, because he affected me in exactly the opposite way Brenda did. Instant hate versus instant like. What he'd done was really chicken shit, just like my Dad had said it was. I couldn't let him get away with it. I had to do something. Having him go to court and wind up in reform school though, that didn't appeal to me. What I really wanted to do was to get him alone somewhere, and then beat on him until I knew he would think twice about ever wanting to come near me again. Richard didn't seem to learn or profit from his experiences with me though. He probably wouldn't learn a lesson, not even if I beat him a lot worse than he had beaten me with his kick. I fell asleep finally, still trying to decide what I should do about Richard.

When they released me from the hospital on Sunday, around noon, Dad and Uncle Bunny took me down to the town constable's office to see Mr. Dyer. When we got there, I found out that Mr. Dyer was a small man, about the same age as my Dad and Uncle Bunny. He was wearing a western shirt, jeans, cowboy boots and an old, black, cowboy hat. He didn't look at all like I'd pictured him. Uncle Bunny did the talking to start things off.

"Ken, this is Kenny Parsons, my nephew and client. Kenny this is Ken Dyer. Mr. Dyer is the investigating officer, looking into the charge of assault that Brenda, Walt and Georgia Connor filed against you last night. He needs to ask you some questions, and you need to wait, after he asks these questions, to see if it's all right for you to answer them. Do you understand?"

"Sure, I understand, Uncle Bunny. I didn't assault Brenda. I was trying to break up the fight, that's all."

"Kenny, maybe it would be best if you just started at the beginning, telling me what actually happened out there last night. I've heard from all the Connors already. I've spoken with the Carstairs girl, and with several eye witnesses. Bunny, I know what you're worried about, but I give you my word, I'll strike anything from the record he says that you feel he shouldn't have said, and wouldn't have, if his lawyer had heard me asking him a question about it." Uncle Bunny just nodded to me that it was okay.

I told him everything, going back to earlier in the day when I first spoke to Emily, and even before that, telling him about Gary mentioning he had to go out to the country club dance. It took me about twenty minutes to tell him everything, and to describe what I remembered, from the time that Brenda came running over and tackled Emily, until Richard kicked me and knocked me unconscious. As soon as I stopped talking, he started asking me questions.

"Did you grab her breast on purpose, or was it an innocent accident?"

"I just grabbed her, I never even thought about where I grabbed her until I began lifting her off of Emily. I didn't want to touch her there. I wanted her to stop beating on Emily, that's all."

"Richard Connor is alleging that you punched him twice in the men's room, and that his striking you was in retaliation for that."

"Richard's a coward and a liar. He wouldn't have the courage to face me if he and I were both standing. I never touched him in the bathroom. His father sent him in to tell me to stay away from Brenda. I told him that his dad and I both wanted the same thing. Neither of us touched the other one."

"Were there any possible witnesses in the room with the two of you? Anyone that might have seen or heard you two talking?"

"I don't think so. I don't remember anyone else. Did Brenda say I felt her up like that on purpose?"

"No. She actually said she didn't think it was deliberate. In fact she made a comment that she wished it had been. She signed her statement for the complaint, but all it said was that you lifted her off of Miss Carstairs, and that she suffered no bodily harm as a result of your handling of her. I don't really have any further questions of your client, Bunny. I'd really prefer that you drop your complaint about Walt, and he drop his about Kenny. I doubt that either complaint would be prosecuted. Kenny admits that Walt had reason to think he was assaulting his daughter. Both of your families have a long history together. Richard's a different story now. I think we'll just run him through youth court and saddle him with a couple of years of probation. That boy needs to learn he can't do what he did, and then go around telling us a bunch of lies to keep himself from being accountable for his actions."

Uncle Bunny spoke then. "Ken, Tommy and I both decided to withdraw all charges against Walt and Richard. We're prepared to deal with Richard in our own way. Before we do that though, we want the two of them to come out here and apologize to Kenny. Are they both still in custody?"

"Yep, same cell. First father son team I've had locked up since they put in the new cells, two years ago. I'll bring them both out here, but only if they agree to come. Have I got your word that there won't be any more fisticuffs? I don't want to have to arrest all of you now."

"Ken, just go get them. We aren't planning anything physical with them."

We waited about five minutes before Mr. Dyer returned with Mr. Connor and Richard. Mr. Connor looked angry still, but Richard looked scared. They stayed over by the door. The three from our family were in the middle of the room, only about ten feet separated us from them.

"Walt, Richard, Kenny's family has agreed to not press charges against you, and to let this matter drop, if you'll apologize to Kenny for your attack on him."

"We didn't say we'd let the matter drop, Ken. We said we'd withdraw our criminal charges if they apologize to Kenny. There's a big difference. We don't intend to let this drop, not by any stretch of the imagination." Uncle Bunny sounded as angry as I'd ever heard him, and Dad stood behind him, nodding his head that he agreed with Uncle Bunny.

"If either of you touch me or my son, I'll see to it that you'll regret it." Mr. Connor said that, but his words sounded frightened, rather than angry. He was starting to look as worried as Richard looked.

Dad spoke then. "You've got less than a minute to apologize to Kenny, Walt. After that, you can take your chances in court. I think you should know that your company is finished as a supplier to our company. I've told you before that you couldn't go around attacking me, or my family, and still expect to stay in business. You didn't listen. The only reason I'm not filing a civil suit against you is that I know you're already mortgaged to the hilt, and you won't have a thing left by the time we could get a judgment against you. Now you either apologize or not, it's all up to you about how much trouble you want to be in."

"What about Kenny, Dyer, are you just going to let him get away scot free, after what he did to my Brenda?"

"He said it was an accident and I believe him. Your own daughter said the same thing. You better either get your ass in gear and apologize to this boy, Connor, or else call a lawyer and let him know what charges, you, and this miserable liar of a son of yours, are facing. I'm all done listening to both of you about this matter. Either shit, or get off the damn pot."

"I don't need an apology from either of them. They wouldn't mean it anyway. Richard, you better hide the next few times you see me, because if you don't and I see you, I'm going to make you wish you'd never been born. Mr. Connor, I'm sorry that I accidentally grabbed Brenda there. I didn't mean to, honest. I want to stay as far away from her as I possibly can. I know how it must have looked to you, and that's why I'm not angry about you hitting me. I figure it was an honest mistake. So far, I've seen my Dad and Uncle Bunny both knock you right on your ass. You ever lay another hand on me, I'm going to put you on your ass too." I had had my fill of all the Connor family. I meant what I'd said to Mr. Connor too. He had gotten the last free shot at me.

Constable Dyer took them both back to their cell, asking us to wait in his office until he got back. It took him only about three minutes to get back. "Bunny, I'm keeping both of them until I can take them in to be arraigned on Monday. I don't really need Kenny's testimony to convict Richard in a youth court. He'll convict himself with his lies and his rotten attitude. I'll probably have to let Walt go after arraignment, because the prosecutor will want to kick that case out. Bunny, I've been doing this for a lot of years, and I'm telling you, Richard needs something like this, or else he's going to turn out bad."

"Ken, I don't disagree with what you said about Richard needing a wake up call, but not this way. Tommy and I already have a plan in mind for him. I'm asking you to trust us, and to turn both of them loose."