“Where are you?”
“At a gas station pay phone in the middle of nowhere. I had to get out of there. Tasha was really upset. We should have never gone. She said Zach grabbed her. I confronted him, but what was I gonna do. He’s huge and he had his boys with him. He kicked us out. When we were leaving, I saw Justin coming in with Alyssa.”
“Shit.”
Carter scribbled the directions Devin gave him on a scrap of paper.
He drove Julie’s Honda Coupe through the darkness. Sarah was in the passenger seat, gripping the armrest on the door. A horn honked and high beams flashed as they flew past a slow moving pickup.
“Turn right! That’s Cavanaugh Road,” Sarah said.
The tires chirped as he turned from the asphalt road. Gravel spewed from the wheels as they flew down the country lane. Carter pulled over in the field among the other cars.
“Stay here,” he said to Sarah. “I’ll be right back.”
“No way,” she said. “I’m coming with you.”
They jogged up to the front door. Sarah struggled to keep up in her flip-flops. Her camera was strapped across her chest. The buzz of voices intermingled with rap music was audible through the door. They entered without knocking. The living room lights were low. Football players and girls made out on the couch and the floor. Most were clothed, but some far less so. Bodies were intertwined and groping. They searched the twisted pack for Alyssa or Justin. No sign of them. They entered the dining room to the left. The crowd around the table cheered as Noah sank a quarter into a shot glass.
“Holy shit,” Noah said, recognizing Carter.
The crowd turned to Carter and Sarah. Amber stood in her short jean shorts and cowboy boots. She had her arm around Luke, her hand in his back pocket.
“Where’s my sister?” Carter said to no one in particular. The crowd was silent.
Amber laughed, cutting through the quiet.
“She’s thirteen,” Carter said.
“Someone might want to tell Justin that’s felony statutory rape,” Sarah added.
“She’s upstairs,” Luke said.
Amber scowled at Luke. Carter and Sarah ran upstairs. They opened and shut doors, disturbing consenting couples. The last door at the end of the hall was to the master bedroom. It was locked. Carter banged on the door.
“Go away, motherfucker, I’m busy,” Justin said.
Carter backed up. Sarah stepped aside. He sprinted toward the door, lowering his shoulder. He blasted through the door, the jamb splintering. Alyssa was on her knees, topless, her upper body waiflike. Mascara ran down her face. Justin stood in front of her, his pants down, his hand around his erection. Zach stood in the background, fully clothed. He yanked his hand out of his pants as the door crashed open. Sarah took a picture of the scene, keeping Alyssa’s chest out of the shot.
“What the fuck?” Justin said his hand still on his penis.
Alyssa scrambled for her tube top. She put it on, standing and staggering toward Carter and Sarah. Justin grabbed her arm.
“Let her go,” Carter said.
Sarah snapped another photograph. “Unless you want to be in The Washington Post for felony statutory rape,” Sarah said.
Justin let go. “I didn’t touch her.” He pulled his pants up.
Alyssa stumbled away.
“Are you all right?” Carter asked. “Did he touch you?”
She shook her head. “Wanna go home,” she slurred.
Sarah and Carter escorted Alyssa out of the farmhouse unmolested. They supported her weight as she was unable or unwilling to walk on her own. Carter reclined the front passenger seat, and they set her down. Her micro skirt rode up her legs exposing black lace underwear. Sarah pulled her skirt down and squeezed into what was left of the miniature back seat. Carter drove with the flow of traffic.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Carter said.
“Gonna throw … up,” Alyssa said, barely audible.
“Pull over,” Sarah said.
Carter pulled over on the shoulder of the two-lane highway. Sarah helped Alyssa out of the car and into the grass. Carter stood, leaning against the Honda, his arms crossed. Sarah held back her hair as Alyssa puked. After, they put her back in the reclined seat and continued on their way.
“How long have you been drinking like this?” Carter said.
She was breathing heavily.
“I think she passed out,” Sarah said.
* * *
The townhouse was dark as Carter pulled into the visitor’s space. He exited the Coupe and pulled the seat forward. Sarah stepped out. They walked around the car and opened the passenger door. Alyssa was snoring.
“Thank you for helping,” Carter said.
Sarah kissed him on the cheek. “You’re welcome. You need help getting her inside?”
“No. She’s gonna walk herself inside.”
Carter reached into the car, unbuckled the seatbelt and shook Alyssa. She groaned, her eyes sealed shut. He shook harder.
“Wake up,” he said. “I’m not carrying you. Wake up.”
Alyssa curled up tighter in the fetal position.
Carter frowned at Sarah. He reached inside and hauled his sister out of the car, one arm under her knees and one behind her back.
“Can you open the garage for me?” Carter asked.
She giggled. “I thought you were going to make her walk.”
Sarah pulled the garage door up. Carter pecked her on the mouth and slipped inside with Alyssa in his arms. Sarah shut the door behind them. Carter stopped at the basement door, turning the knob with some difficulty. He pushed inside, his forearm still supporting his sister. The lamp at the computer table flicked on. Jim stood up from the swivel chair, his face red, his jaw clenched. Carter stood, holding onto Alyssa, whose skirt was hiked up. Her tube top left her midriff and shoulders exposed. She smelled like alcohol, smoke, and vomit.
Jim stalked closer like a lion about to pounce. “Put her down,” Jim said.
Carter set her feet down, but her arms clung around his neck. He dipped his head under her arms and set her down. She assumed the fetal position on the floor. Jim bent down, his face inches from hers.
“Wake up!” Jim said.
Alyssa’s eyes shot wide open. She pushed herself against the wall, away from Jim.
“Stand up,” Jim said.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Alyssa said, blubbering.
“I said, stand up. Don’t make me ask again.”
Carter helped Alyssa to her feet. She stood, holding Carter’s arm for support. She looked at the floor, tears dripping on the carpet.
“Why does she smell like a fuckin’ brewery?”
Carter was silent. Alyssa sniffled.
Jim stiffened his jaw and put his hand under his daughter’s chin. He forced her eyes up to meet his. “Where did you get the alcohol?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
She glanced at Carter.
“Did Carter have something to do with this?”
“No.”
“Why did you look at him?”
“No reason.”
He narrowed his eyes at Carter then back to his daughter. “Where were you?”
She looked down, but Jim jerked her head back. “It was a party, okay.”
Carter bit the inside of his cheek.
“A middle school party?” Jim asked. “A bunch of eighth graders gettin’ wasted?”
Alyssa was silent. Her eyes flicked to Carter.
“Why do you keep lookin’ at him?” Jim said.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“How old were the fuckin’ kids at this party?”
Carter and Alyssa were silent.
“Answer me!” Jim said.
“High school,” she said, new tears spilling down her face.
“Lemme guess, graduation party?” Jim shook his daughter.
She nodded, sobbing.
“Did anybody touch you?” Jim said.
She sh
ook her head.
“If I find out some eighteen-year-old piece of shit touched you, he’ll be goin’ to jail if I don’t fuckin’ kill him first.” He glared at Alyssa. “And look at this shit you’re wearin’. You look like a fuckin’ hooker. What the hell is wrong with you?”
She glanced at Carter.
Jim glowered at Carter, then at Alyssa. “Did he have something to do with this?”
“No,” she said.
He let go of Alyssa’s chin. Her head drooped. He clenched his fists at his side, turning his attention to Carter. “If you didn’t have anything to do with this, why are you sneaking her in at midnight?”
Carter was unresponsive.
“And how in the hell is a little girl gettin’ into a high school party?”
Carter shrugged.
“You better come up with an answer before I bash your fuckin’ head in.”
“It doesn’t matter what I say,” Carter said in monotone.
“Alyssa, get your ass upstairs. Now,” Jim said.
She staggered past Jim, her head down. Jim waited, silently stewing while Alyssa trudged up the steps. Jim stared at Carter, his eyes wide open like Mike Singletary on a blitz. He rolled his neck.
“I know you’re involved somehow,” Jim said, rocking from one foot to the other. “This shit stinks like you.”
“Let’s get on with it,” Carter said his hands by his side. “Take your shots so I can go to bed. You and I both know what’s –”
Jim punched Carter in the jaw with a right cross, knocking him off his feet. Carter made no attempt to rise. He tightened his abdominals as Jim kicked him in the stomach, the force knocking him against his bedroom door. Jim bent over and put his hands around Carter’s throat, squeezing like a vice. Carter didn’t struggle. He didn’t show pain or fear.
“If you ever take my daughter to a party like that again, I will fuckin’ kill you.” Jim let go of Carter’s throat. Carter gasped for air. “You got me?”
– 19 –
Good News
Carter brushed his damp fingers through his hair. He tucked his button-down shirt into his black pants. He stared into the bathroom mirror. His summer tan was long gone, replaced by the light olive underneath. He patted his back pocket, feeling the bulge of his wallet, and his front pocket – nothing. He marched into his bedroom, scanning his dresser top and the foot locker. His bed was stripped bare down to the mattress. He grabbed his wool coat from the futon couch. He exited his room and glanced at Jim, hunched over the computer screen. Carter bounded up the basement steps to the kitchen. He snatched his keys from the counter. As he did so, the front door slammed shut. Grace dropped a cluster of shopping bags with a sigh of relief. He moved toward his mother. She untied her long leather coat.
“It’s freezing out there,” she said to Carter. She hung her coat on the banister. Underneath she wore a pencil skirt and long leather boots. She smiled, her caked-on makeup holding firm. “Don’t you look cute.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Carter replied.
“Are those the pants I bought you for Christmas?”
Carter nodded. “Yeah, they’re comfortable.”
“They look good on you.”
Carter eyed the large-handled bags. “What did you get?”
“Oh, just some stuff for work. So, you and Sarah have any big plans tonight?”
“We’re going for dinner.”
“That sounds fun.”
He said goodbye to his mother before he left. He half-jogged to his Ford F-150 pickup truck. It was white, with several what-looked-like bullet holes on the right-hand side. They were the result of the previous owner’s dent repair job. A snow blower was bungeed to the bed liner of the four-by-four. He yanked the magnetic signs from the door that said Lynch Lawn Mowing and tossed them behind the seat. He pressed the clutch in and cranked the engine. Thirty seconds later, he was parked in front of Sarah’s house.
Carter pressed down on the parking brake with his foot and hopped out of the truck, leaving it running. He climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. Sarah appeared in perfect synchronicity with the chime. Her hair was curled at the ends, burned into place. She wore eyeliner and lip gloss, but her face was naked, perfect as usual. Her black dress flowed just beneath her knees.
“You look beautiful.”
She frowned. “Really? My mom let me borrow it. It was one of her more tasteful ensembles.” She eyed Carter. “You look handsome.”
He smiled and held out his arm. She entwined her arm in his and they strolled to the truck. He opened her door and she hopped in. He walked around the truck and slid into the driver’s seat.
Carter turned to Sarah and said, “I have some really big news.”
“I saw it already,” Sarah replied. “I feel really bad for the girls. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised.”
Carter gave her a quizzical look. “What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see it on the news? I tried calling, but I got a busy signal.”
“Alyssa was probably on the phone.” Carter frowned. “She never clicks over on call waiting.”
“So you didn’t see it?”
“You know I don’t watch that stuff.”
“I’m glad you’re sitting down for this. Zach and Justin were arrested in Blacksburg on charges of rape.”
“Jesus.”
She shook her head. “Messed up, huh?”
He sat silent.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s shocking, I guess.”
“It is.” She nodded. “I hope they’re put away for a long time.”
“Me too.”
She forced a smile. “So, what was your big news? Is it a bigger bombshell than that?”
“Thankfully no, but it’s really good news. I can’t wait to tell you.”
She grinned. “Spill it.”
“I wanna wait until dinner, if that’s okay. It’s a surprise.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
* * *
They were in a booth on the top floor of Mike’s American Grill, a three-story restaurant in the north of town. They looked out the window at the traffic below. The voices of patrons and waiting staff mingled with the cacophony of background noise. Eventually, despite the noise, it seemed quiet, as if it were just the two of them.
“Madam, sir. Your steaks,” the waiter said. He placed the steaming entrees in front of them. “The plates are hot, so be careful.”
Sarah smiled.
“Thank you,” Carter said.
They stared at the filet mignon, asparagus, and garlic mashed potatoes.
Carter picked up his fork and steak knife, cutting into the beef. He took a bite. “Wow,” he said. “I’ve had steak before, but never like this.”
Sarah tried her own and agreed.
Halfway through the meal Carter said, “Do you wanna hear my good news now?” Sarah’s face was still. “Or we can wait until after we’ve finished eating?”
“No, go ahead.”
“Okay. As you know, my eighteenth birthday was last week. And being eighteen affords me some power that I didn’t have a few weeks ago.”
She put her fork down, her full attention on him.
He continued. “I did a ton of work last summer.”
She nodded. “I remember. You were working sunup ’til sundown.”
“Plus I did a lot during the school year on the weekends and after school. And then, with all the snow we’ve had so far … I have enough.” Carter smiled wide, showing his upper teeth.
“Enough what?”
“Enough money to move out of my parents’ house and to pay for two years of NOVA.”
She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”
“You should be happy for us, because that’s not all.”
She raised her eyebrows.
He pulled his keys from his pocket and held up a single silver key. “This is the key to my very own basement apartment. I rented it from this
older couple that lives in Landsdowne. It has a kitchenette, a bathroom with a shower, a bedroom, and a living room. They’re so nice too.” Her smile was fading. “They said I can use their washer and dryer on Sundays. And guess who can come over and stay whenever they want? We can actually sleep all night together.” He studied her face. “You don’t look too enthused.”
She forced a smile. “No, it sounds great. I’m really happy for you.”
“Us.”
“Of course … us.” She smiled, her eyes still.
“Do you wanna know how I found the place?” He feigned enthusiasm, trying to inflate the deflating balloon.
“Sure.”
“The older couple, the Woodruffs, you know, I told you about them before, my favorite clients. I saw that they had a ‘For Rent’ sign on their –” Sarah stared at her food. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“This is really good for us. I’ve been dying to tell you all week. I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought we could go there after dinner.”
She took a deep breath. “I have some good news too.”
“That’s great,” he said, his stomach churning.
“I got a full scholarship to Northwestern.”
He nodded his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “Wow, that’s great … for you.” His shoulders slumped. “That is really great. You deserve it. If anyone deserves it, you do.”
She smiled briefly. “Thank you. I’m really happy about it. I found out a few weeks ago. I just didn’t know how to tell you. They have one of the best journalism schools in the country. I mean, I thought I could get in, but I knew I couldn’t afford it. I never thought I’d get a scholarship. I think the article …”
Carter pushed the remnants of his food around his plate.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Carter looked up, forcing a smile that failed to blossom.
“I know I was planning on George Mason so I could be here with you.”
He set his fork on his plate. “I don’t know why I can’t just accept reality.”
“The reality of what?”
“That I’m destined for failure. That I’m gonna be someone’s punching bag, or someone’s lawn boy, or someone’s fall guy.”
“Carter, stop. That’s not true.”
“It’s like the moment I feel good about something, like really feel good, it blows up in my face.”
Initiation Page 19
