“See you in court, Fred. Can’t wait to see how you spin this. Don’t forget to ask Drysdale what he used to take her face off. You know how jurors get obsessed with those little details, let their imaginations take them to the darkest places. Oh, and although you don’t represent them, you might ask which of Rudy’s parents wants to take the stand to testify about the time he attacked his father.”
Fred may have devolved into a timid prosecutor, but he was never a dumb one. “You can’t introduce past crimes unless Rudy takes the stand. Besides, there are no records of any violent behavior on his part.”
“True. But you also can’t claim he has no history of violence. There is a history, Fred, and it’s a very troubling one. But let’s move forward, get everything on the schedule, assuming there’s no chance for a murder one plea.”
“No chance. He’s rolling the dice, all or nothing.”
“Well, then, I’m going to have to assume probability is not one of the things at which Mr. Drysdale is brilliant.”
THE GAME OF LIFE
Even on a Saturday during a long holiday weekend, our father went to the office. We were used to his workaholism. Complaining about it would be like complaining about cold weather in winter, humidity in summer. AJ was still asleep when he left. AJ seldom rose before noon on holidays and weekends, a pattern established early in his teens. I could not believe how much he slept, my brother. My father said I would sleep like that one day, too, that the enormous physical changes of adolescence would exhaust me. He was wrong about that, as it turned out. But I grew very slowly and not very much, maybe only six inches in all from age twelve to age eighteen.
So I was doubly surprised when our father returned home two hours later and expressed annoyance at AJ still being in bed at 11:00. He walked upstairs to AJ’s room, his voice loud, almost yelling. Our father never yelled.
“AJ, get up. I need to talk to you.”
Inaudible mutters, moans.
“Now, AJ. Don’t get dressed. Don’t brush your teeth. Come straight to my room.”
More muttering.
“Then go to the bathroom, for sweet Christ’s sake, but get moving.”
My room shared part of a wall with my father’s. Intensely curious about what AJ had done to be in such trouble, I decided I would clean my room, as I was supposed to do on the weekends, although I usually waited until Sunday evening.
“Where did you go last night?” our father asked AJ. Then, before he could answer: “The truth. You need to tell the truth.”
The whole truth and nothing but the truth, I silently amended.
A long pause. I could almost feel AJ sifting through the consequences of his answer. Clearly, he had not gone bowling. But what could he have done to make our father sound like this? Angry, yet scared, too, a slight tremble in his voice. He didn’t know the answers to the questions he asked. That was rare for our father.
“The girls did go bowling. But Bash and Lynne are in a fight, he didn’t want to go. And Davey was stuck at home. So we went over there.”
“Were his parents there?”
Soft, barely audible. “No, sir. They drove up to Harrisburg to see Davey’s grandmother. They let Davey stay home because he said he wanted to work on a report for AP European History, but they said he couldn’t go out.”
“Who else was there?”
“Only Bash, Noel, and I were invited. It wasn’t a party. We just wanted to hang out, listen to Mr. Robinson’s stereo.”
“AJ, stop trying to skirt the truth by the way you phrase things. Okay, Davey invited you, Noel, and Bash. Was anyone else there, invited or no?”
“A girl named Nita Flood showed up.”
“Who is Nita Flood?”
I almost spoke out loud, excited to know the answer. Nita Flood. She sells sausage at the mall.
“A girl in our class. Not a friend of ours, not really.”
“Just showed up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How did she get there?”
“Someone dropped her off. She hitched, I think. She said she had been working and she bummed a ride. But she lives near the high school, not Hobbit’s Glen.”
“Why did she come to Davey’s house?”
“She was mad at him.”
“Why?”
“Because he took a girl from Glenelg to our homecoming dance. She thought he should have taken her.”
“Why?”
My father was in attorney mode. He wanted AJ to tell the story, line by line, fact by fact. He was trying very hard not to put words in AJ’s mouth, I could tell, not to lead him in any way.
“Because—because they’ve been having sex.” The embarrassment in AJ’s voice was palpable. My face burned with mortification and I wasn’t in the room. “Off and on for more than a year, only in secret. Davey never takes her anywhere, doesn’t talk to her in front of other people. He goes over to where she lives, after school, and they have sex. Nobody knew. Bash, Noel, and I didn’t suspect a thing. She said she was his girlfriend and Davey said she wasn’t, that his parents don’t want him to go steady with anyone. They had a big fight, in the Robinsons’ bedroom. We could hear them all the way down in the rec room. But then they, um, made up.”
“What do you mean?”
An interminable silence.