"He leaned even closer. And began to kiss my neck, and my face, but not my mouth. Maybe it was because I turned away before he
worked his way to my lips.
"You've been drinking," I said, and it wasn't a question.
"Yeah," he said, still nibbling on my ear. "And it's the only way to go."
I gave him a push away. Not a hard one. But a push just the same.
"Stop, Kenny," I said. I was suddenly tired of trying to lead him into conversation. I wanted to go back upstairs. Guthrie could have
the pleasure of Kenny's company the rest of the evening. I was done.
"How come?" he asked lazily. "I mean, you got me down here. So let's have some fun."
"No," I said firmly.
"You gonna yell for a brother?" he asked me then, grinning.
"No. I don't need to yell for any of them."
Kenny looked at me, with a measuring glance, and then he laughed, and stepped back a little, though he was still in my
"bubble" of body space.
"Okay, Harlie," he said, and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a flask. I'd never actually seen anybody do that before. Pull a drinking
flask out of their pocket like that. I've seen it in movies and all, but never like this.
He took off the top and tipped it up, taking a long swallow.
"Put that away," I told him.
In response, he leaned back in towards me, and held it close to my mouth. "Have a sip," he coaxed.
I stared at Kenny as if I'd never seen him before. Maybe I hadn't. Not really. This wasn't the Kenny I'd always known.
"No. Put it away," I told him again.
"Harlie? You down here?" came a call from the top of the basement stairs.
"It's Brian," I whispered, giving Kenny another shove.
"Yes, Bri!" I called out in answer.
Kenny just smiled, and put the flask back in his pocket. He took a couple of steps back from me, and before I could hop
down from my seat on the dryer, Brian had come halfway down the stairs, and was leaning over the railing, looking at both Kenny
and I.
In true big brother form, I saw Brian's eyes narrow a little, and he frowned. "What's goin' on?" he asked, coming down the rest of the way to the
bottom of the stairs.
"Harlie and me are just catchin' up on things," Kenny said, with a grin at Brian.
Brian looked from Kenny to me, and I could tell that he smelled a rat.
"Well, come on back up," he said, and then, instead of going on back up himself, he stepped aside so Kenny could pass
in front of him.
"Guess I'll go hunt Guthrie up," Kenny said, and went on.
I hopped down from the dryer, wiping my hands on my jeans. They were all sweaty all of a sudden. I went over to
the bottom step, where Brian was still standing.
"What was happening down here?" he asked me.
He'd know if I said that nothing had been happening, that I would be lying.
"I was talking to him. You know, like you said."
"And?" he asked.
"And, it didn't really get anywhere. He's still acting weird."
"More than weird," he said, and I knew what he was getting at. He knew that Kenny had been trying to make out with me.
"Yes," I said, and Brian's eyes flashed.
"It's okay, Bri," I said. "I know how to handle it."
"Oh, you do, huh?" he demanded.
I gave him a sudden hug around the waist. "Don't worry about me," I told him.
"Well, worrying about you is just part of my life. Like breathing," he said.
7
When Brian and I got back upstairs, Kenny and Guthrie had gone outside with Ford, and were playing around with the
basketball. I mixed among the crowd of neighbors again, getting the coffee pot and refilling cups.
I took the coffee pot over to Mr. Hess, who was standing and talking to Adam.
"Want a refill?" I asked, when they both stopped talking to look at me.
"No, thanks sugar," Adam said, but Mr. Hess held out his empty cup.
"I'll take some more, young lady," he told me, and as I refilled his cup he went on talking, "You're a good little waitress."
I smiled at him, and he said, "You must be pretty proud of this girl, Adam."
"I am. Real proud," Adam said, and gave me a slow smile.
"What are you planning to do after high school?" Mr. Hess asked me then.
"I'm thinking of veterinary school," I said.
"Well, that's fine, just fine," Mr. Hess said in his big booming voice. "Got some goals set, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," I said, wishing I could make my escape.
"So many of these kids today don't even try to make it thru high school," Mr. Hess droned on. "And here you have
a girl like Harlie that knows just what she wants to do and plans to do it."
"Well, I'm going to try, anyway," I said, a little embarrassed.
"I wish my Carleen was more like Harlie," Mr. Hess went on.
"Carleen's in college now, isn't she?" Adam asked.
"She is. She is," he verified. "But she's just drifting. No focus. Failing all her classes. Last time she was home, she laid around, wouldn't even
get out of the bed to help her mother fix a meal. I said to her, 'what will you have as your major?' and what does she say? She
says, 'It's all about having a good time, dad'."
He jiggled Adam's arm a bit. "How about that, Adam?"
Adam gave a brief nod. "Maybe she'll settle into it soon," he offered, in encouragement.
"I hold no hopes for that," Mr. Hess said. "You know Carleen. Never have been able to do a thing with that girl. She sasses her mother
something awful." He shook his head in resignation. "She's a high strung girl," he added.
The next few moments were quiet, and a bit awkward. At least that's how I felt. I looked at Adam, and if I could read his mind, I would have
bet that he was thinking that he could have Carleen straightened out in no time at all. McFadden style.
I saw Hannah carrying a tray with more cake plates on it, and I said, "I better go help Hannah," and turned away.
As I did, I could hear Mr. Hess telling Adam what a great little gal that I was. Even if it was a little embarrassing, I still thought it
wouldn't hurt to have someone point out that I was a stellar sort of teenager.
As the evening progressed, it got a little tense at times. Nobody liked what was going on, and folks were even frightened to the
point that they were installing guard dogs outside, and one family said they'd put one of those outdoor cameras up on the edge of their
property to try to view the culprits if they came around.
I gathered up paper plates and napkins, and emptied coffee cups, going to the kitchen, and running hot water in the sink. I washed
some of the cups, and then I went outside to watch the boys play basketball.
Steven had arrived late with his parents, and he hollered hello to me, as he dribbled across the concrete. Guthrie was playing in a pair
of sneakers that had seen better days, the shoelaces flapping.
I found one of our lawn chairs to sit in and watch them play. I studied Kenny while I sat there. He showed no signs of being
uncomfortable now. He was running and jumping and laughing just like the old Kenny. After awhile, though, I thought his laughter
was a little loud, over the top. He began to get more and more loud. I wondered that Ford and Guthrie didn't notice.
A few minutes later, Ford left the game to come to the hydrant, pulling the handle and leaning down to get a drink.
"That Kenny," he said, shaking his head a little.
I wasn't sure just what he meant, but I figured that he had noticed how Kenny was acting. Warrior wandered over slowly to where
I sat, and I hoisted him up onto my lap, being careful not to press on his bandaged spots.
"Good boy," I crooned, "Who's the bravest dog around?"
When the boys ended the game, and were heading towards the back door, talking about getting more cake and some lemonade,
I heard Kenny say with a laugh, "Lemonade with a twist, that's what you fellas need," and he pulled the flask out of his back pocket.
In a way I was sorry that he had, but in another I was glad, since now I wouldn't be the only one to know.
The boys stopped walking with a quick halt. Steven was a little wide-eyed, but Ford looked angry.
"Put that away," he ordered. "What the hell are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that it's smooooth," Kenny said, and laughed again, and then downed a drink from the flask.
I looked to Guthrie, and his face was set in a hard line, though he didn't look surprised.
"Damn, Kenny," he said. "Put it up. Are you crazy? Your folks are right inside."
"Are you kiddin'?" he scoffed. "My mama would never believe anything of her precious baby. 'Kenneth, dear, don't go
outside without your jacket', 'Kenneth, darlin', you need to be a Southern gentleman like your granddaddy'."
When he was repeating his mother's words to him, Kenny used a feminine voice with a heavy Southern drawl to mimic her.
"That's rude," I said, from my chair some twenty feet away.
"You think I'm rude, huh, Harlie?" Kenny asked, coming over closer to my chair.
"Yeah. I do," I said. "Your mom's nice. You shouldn't make fun of her that way."
As he neared my chair, Warrior raised his head, sniffed the air, and then began to growl.
"Warrior," I said, "Stop it."
He growled again, and then with a leap from my lap that defied the fact that he'd been recently injured, he went after Kenny.
It all happened so quickly, that afterward, it was almost as though it had been like a fast forward on the VCR. He lunged, and
Kenny hollered, and Warrior growled. I jumped up and tried to grab Warrior's collar, but Ford was quicker, and he hooked his fingers
thru the collar, and pulled Warrior back with a sharp jerk.
He walked across the yard, pulling the protesting Warrior and deposited the dog in the cab of Daniel's truck, which happened
to be the closest vehicle belonging to the family. We could still hear Warrior barking.
I was still standing there, shocked, as were Guthrie, Steven and Kenny.
"What's with your damn dog?" Kenny demanded, sounding angry.
I didn't answer, and when Ford was back in our circle, he was breathing heavier from the exertion of restraining Warrior.
"Leave him in there until everybody's gone home," Ford told me.
"Stupid dog," Kenny said. He was no longer a jolly or laughing drinker. He looked shell-shocked, and nervous and even, I saw, frightened.
He raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and I saw that it was shaking. He was actually shaking.
I felt a pit begin in my stomach. Warrior had never been anything but sweet and loveable, affable and friendly. Welcoming to everyone
who came to visit our ranch. So friendly and welcoming in fact, that Brian and Evan used to joke that Warrior would help robbers carry stolen items
to their cars.
Never had he ever reacted in such a way to a person. I stared at Kenny, as Guthrie made a joke about how
Kenny must smell like a cat or something, to tick Warrior off that way.
"Dog's damn crazy," Kenny said.
"No. He's not," I said. I said it quietly, but my voice was clear. "He knows exactly what he's doing."
Kenny looked at me, and I didn't look away.
"How'd you hurt your arm, Kenny?" I said.
"You know how," he said, sounding mad,
"I know what you told me," I said, and just for the merest of moments it was as though Kenny and I were the only ones
standing there. Ford and Guthrie and Steven faded away.
Then Ford said, "Come on, Har," and was hustling me towards the back door, as the boys went the other way across the yard.
"What's that all about?" Ford asked me, pushing me along.
I stopped in my tracks, stubbornly. "I'm gonna go let my dog out. He didn't do anything wrong."
"He went after Kenny-" Ford began.
"He had a good reason to do that," I said, and turned around to walk back to Daniel's truck.
I was halted with a jerk that nearly set me off of my feet.
"What's your problem?" Ford demanded.
"Warrior's not the one that should be punished!" I twisted, but Ford kept his hand wrapped in the material of my t-shirt.
"Turn me loose, Ford!" I ordered.
"I will. But you leave him right where he is for now."
I looked away from him, stubbornly refusing to answer.
"You go in, and do whatever you need to do, but you leave him there until all these people have gone home, do you hear?" Ford said, very unFord-like.
"Yes. I hear," I said, still not looking at him.
7
Well, I went inside then. I didn't really have much choice in the matter. Ford was behind me, making sure that I went.
"You can turn loose of me now," I told Ford, irritated.
"You promise to behave?" he asked.
"Yes!" I said, in frustration.
Hannah and Adam, in the kitchen together, with Hannah pulling yet another pie from the refrigerator, turned to look at us when we came in.
Obviously curious as to our demeanor and the exchange between Ford and I, they both stopped what they were doing.
"What's up?" Adam asked, looking us both over.
I pressed my lips together, and went to get a glass down. Filling it with water from the faucet, I had my back to them.
"Just a problem with the dog," Ford said quietly.
"What dog?" Adam asked, at the same time as Hannah asked, "What happened?"
"Warrior," Ford said. "He made like he was gonna take a piece out of Kenny."
"Did he actually bite?" Hannah asked, sounding alarmed.
"No," Ford said, and Hannah gave a sigh of apparent relief.
"Where is he?" Adam asked then.
"I stuck him in Daniel's truck for the time being," Ford said.
I still had my back to them, and I drank some of the water, finding that I was shaking, too. I turned to face them. Ford looked sorrowful now, and
I knew he was feeling bad about the situation. Adam was eyeing me.
"What's the problem here, with you two?" he asked, gesturing from me to Ford and back again.
"She's upset with me," Ford said, and I could tell he was trying to downplay my near-tantrum, so Adam wouldn't get onto me.
Good old Ford, I thought. I really didn't deserve him.
"Harlie?" Adam asked, and I turned to meet his gaze. Reluctantly, I might add.
"What do you have to say?" he asked me.
A loud chorus of laughter came from the living room. It sounded as though all the guests were still here.
"Nothing," I said shortly.
There was a glimmer of irritation on Adam's face. I knew that he thought I was just being stubborn, and copping an attitude.
"Is it alright if I go up to bed?" I asked then.
"Harlie-" Adam began, but Hannah laid her hand on his arm.
"Let her go, Adam," she said softly.
Adam hesitated, and then said, "Alright. Go to bed."
I looked at Ford then. "Will you let Warrior out, as soon as Kenny leaves?"
"Yeah. I will," Ford said, quiet.
"Thank you," I said, quietly, too.
I was at the bottom of the back staircase when Adam said, "We're gonna talk in the morning. Alright?"
There was a note of warning in his voice, if I chose to hear it.
"Yes, sir," I said, and went up the stairs, feeling as though each of my feet weighed twenty pounds each.
7