Brandons’
house. And I need company.”
“Okay, then, duck. Because I need to see the
Brandons. Do they know what happened? The parents are going to be
in big trouble for serving alcohol to minors.”
“They didn’t serve it. It was Carl and
Cindy. Mostly Carl, I guess. And he knows what happened. Most
likely Cindy does, too.”
“It doesn’t matter who actually bought it and
served it, the parents are ultimately responsible. I wonder how
Carl managed to buy it.”
“You can always find someone with a fake
ID.”
Glyn seemed to know all about it. I didn’t
ask. I turned in at the Brandons’ driveway but didn’t see any sign
of human beings. Or cars. They might have been at church. I turned
off my engine and waited. It gave me plenty of time to ponder and
put myself in Kelsey’s place.
Cree fidgeted, wanting to get to my house and
see Ben. Glyn moaned and sighed and beat up on herself.
Exasperated, I finally said, “ Okay, so
you encouraged her to take a drink. You were only trying to help.
How could you know she wouldn’t stop?”
“I should have known. It can happen.”
“Okay, you’re five percent guilty.”
“Fifty percent. And the other fifty because I
should have stopped them when they were going upstairs. I mean—what
else would they be going for? She was too out of it to say no.”
“And probably too innocent,” I said.
“All the more reason.”
Cree tried to change the subject. “What did
Ben say when you told him?”
Hadn’t we already discussed that? Or was it
Rhoda I talked to?
“He said, ‘Why are girls so stupid?’ But
please don’t get me started on that. Girls may be stupid but guys
don’t have to take advantage. That’s their fault. They
should damn well learn to control their hormones. That goes for all
men, all over the world. There are cultures where women have to
cover their hair, even their faces, because the sight of it gets
men aroused. Why should it all be up to the women? Are men such
babies they can’t keep a grip on their dicks?”
Cree said, “You really are wound up.”
“Damn straight. I’m starting a campaign and
you guys can be charter members, if you want.”
Glyn perked up a little. “Campaign for what?
What’s it about?”
“Education. Teaching men to have some
respect. Teaching them we’re not just put here as sex toys.”
Cree looked thoughtful. “Kelsey can be our
poster girl.”
“I wouldn’t do that to her,” I said. “We’ll
have a composite poster girl. She’s not the first person this
happened to.”
“Not hardly,” Glyn agreed.
A car came into the driveway. That was a
relief. I’d pictured us sitting there for the next two hours, if
not two weeks. It was the whole Brandon family. I got out and
greeted the parents, whom I’d met at Lakeside functions, just as
I’d met Kelsey’s parents.
“Party’s over. Didn’t you know?” said Mr.
Brandon. Always a joker.
“Uh—” How to begin? My “uh” stopped the
parents on their way to the front door.
“About that,” I said, trying to think how to
break it gently. “I wasn’t here, but I understand there were
problems.”
“Problems?” Mrs. Brandon’s eyebrows went
up.
All except Carl moved in closer. Then he did,
too. He was a funny guy, with straight, reddish-blond hair. Now his
face was serious. I supposed mine was, too.
My two companions got out of the car. I knew
it took a lot of courage for Glyn to face anyone. The Brandons knew
her, of course. She lived next door. I introduced Cree and said
we’d just come from Kelsey’s house.
Carl said, “I heard she got smashed. Is she
okay?”
He knew she got more than smashed. I said,
“Uh—she’s alive.” Then I laid it on. “At least she was a little
while ago. When the ambulance took her away.”
There was a gasp all around. Mrs. Brandon
said, “What happened? ”
It seemed to me parents shouldn’t be so
innocent. Certainly not more innocent than their kids. Even if the
kids try hard to
Learning to Kill: Stories