CHAPTER 5
That evening after watching "Hootenanny" Ricky and I were sitting on my front porch listening to the Angels sing "My Boyfriend's Back" on WSAI and making plans for later that night. Grandma was in the back yard jawing with Josephine Cowan over the fence and Grandpa was down in the basement fooling around with his short wave radio. He could talk to people all over the world on that thing. He had a friend in some South American country that he talked to every Saturday night at 8:00. Grandpa wasn't much for social chit-chat, but he could yak on that radio.
Evenings in Calhoun were long and lazy. The smell of honeysuckle was in the air and the lightening bugs were starting to come out. It had cooled off a little and the sky was clear. The moon and stars would be bright tonight. A gentle breeze rustled leaves on the maple tree in the front yard.
Mr. Mordinoy, from the next block, walked past on his way to the saloon. He was a lanky, sun-burned, leather-necked old refinery worker who took a walk every night, his "constitutional" as he told his wife. But he made a beeline for Ev's, where he drank beer and played pool and usually got a ride home with one of his buddies who dropped him off a block from his house so his wife could see him walking back.
Lights began to come on up and down Front Street as it grew darker. Mrs. King's one-eyed dog waddled down the street and into her yard. A kid on a bicycle zoomed past. Mr. Griffin tooled by in his new Chevy, his kids making faces at us from the back seat. A screen door slammed somewhere.
Reba Davis came out and sat down on her front porch swing. She saw us and gave a little wave. I thought she looked awful lonesome sitting there by herself and I waved back and hollered "Hi!" She smiled and hugged her knees to her chest and watched the street.
I had told Ricky about the slumber party at Debbie's.
"Hey, let's drop in on 'em," he said, grinning like a retard.
"I don't know..."
"Debbie'd love to have us."
"I'd love to have Debbie."
"I'm sure you would."
"I'm sure you're sure I'm sure I would."
"Huh?"
"It's My Party" came on the radio. An omen?
Vito Siri's big Lincoln glided down the street in the twilight and came to a stop in front of Davis's. Reba hopped up and went inside. Vito got out, looking around suspiciously. Tonight he had on a dark pinstriped suit with a black shirt and a white tie. I'd seen that outfit in "West Side Story." His black hair gleamed sleekly in the glimmer from Davis's porch light as he knocked and went inside.
Vito's driver, the skinny, pimple-faced kid, got out and lounged against the fender and began burning a cigarette. He looked around disdainfully, squinting through the smoke, and pushed his chauffeur's cap a little farther down across his eyes.
"What the hell?" Ricky said. "Vito again."
"Hey, you don't really think Vito robbed Ev's do you?" I asked.
"Nah. I was just fucking with Kenny."
Then we heard a distant rumble and Nick's Chevy came into view, cruising slowly down the street, chrome glinting under the streetlights. He looked like a king touring his realm. He parked behind the Lincoln and got out.
"Nicky-boy, what's goin' on," Vito's driver said around his cigarette, his nose in the air.
"Hey, Lanny," Nick drawled, pulling a comb and running it through his hair. He saw Ricky and me on the porch and waved a forefinger at us and we hollered at him.
"How's the bad Chevy?" Lanny said.
"Still bad."
I couldn't hear what Lanny said next, and I was real sorry about that, because whatever it was it made a big impression on Nick. His face got red and his fists got clenched and he called Lanny some kind of a sonofabitch. Lanny looked exactly like a guy about to get a poke in the face, but just then Vito came out and Lanny scooted back into the car. Nick's and Vito's eyes met for a long moment and then Vito got in the car and it purred off. Nick watched until the Lincoln was out of sight and then turned and stalked up to the house.
Reba reappeared on the porch, a welcoming smile on her face, looking fine as wine. Her tan stood out vividly against her sleeveless white blouse and her long hair hung loose. She was about to say something to Nick when a hairy arm reached out from inside the house and the meaty hand on the end of it grabbed her and jerked her back inside. She yelped and Nick took off like a shot up the short sidewalk, bounded up onto the porch, and charged into the house after her. Ricky and I fell over each other jumping off the porch to get a better look.
We heard swearing and a crash and then Reba ran back out onto the porch. Her blouse was torn and we ogled the pink bra she had on underneath it. She was breathing heavily and her eyes were wide with fear.
Seconds later Nick and Ol' Man Davis emerged, Nick half dragging him over the door sill onto the porch. Nick had the Ol' Man's arm twisted around behind him in a hammer lock. Spit and blood ran down the Ol' Man's chin as he cursed and struggled in Nick's iron grip.
"Wow! Wow! Neato!" Ricky said. "Cowboy Bob ain't nothin'."
Cowboy Bob Ellis was our favorite wrestler.
A couple neighbor kids peeked out at the fight from across the street; Mrs. King watched the action from over her rose bushes; other neighbors watched from their porches. Ol' Man Davis wasn't the most popular Calhounian, and nobody was rushing to his rescue.
With one hand on the back of the Ol' Man's head, Nick forced him down to the wooden floor of the porch. His legs splayed our behind him as he tried to squirm away, but Nick's strength was too much for him. Reba stood back against the porch railing, the back of her hand pressed against her open mouth, as if to stifle a scream. I could hear Dudley Doright hollering "I'll save you, Nell!" as he rode up backwards on his white horse.
Nick had the
Ol' Man flat on the porch, now, and he forced his head to Reba's feet and smeared his bloody lips across her saddle shoes. Nick had made him kiss her feet.
Nick held him there in this pose long enough to get the point across as Reba recoiled in horror. Nick finally let go of the Ol' Man and he rolled over and pushed himself awkwardly to a sitting position against the wall of the house. He wiped his bloody lip with a forearm and glared silently up at Nick, ready to scramble out of the way if Nick went after him again. Nick took Reba's hand and they went inside, leaving him on the porch, muttering and bloody.
"Whew! He took care of the Ol' Man, huh?" I said.
"Yeah, boy!"
Reba and Nick came back out in a couple of minutes. Reba had on a fresh blouse. The Ol' Man was still dazed, on his ass on the floor, and they stepped over him on the way to the Chevy and roared away in a cloud of dust, tires squealing.
Front Street got going again. Mrs. King disappeared into her yard; a car drove by; a power mower started up. Ol' Man Davis finally dragged himself to his feet, swearing at one of his urchins who had been watching the whole thing, and went inside.
As it turned out, it was only the start of a really eventful evening.
Ricky was in the shadow of one of the big elm trees waiting for me.
"G and G all snuggled away for the night?" he asked.
"All snuggled away," I said. It was quiet out, the only sound was a distant barking dog. Evidently not the dog in the Sherlock Holmes story. The moon was full and there were night smells in the air.
"Let's go partyin'," Ricky cackled, showing me the bottle of Southern Comfort he had in his jacket
pocket.
"Where'd you get that?" I asked. Hot damn!
"I went to see Ev."
"Ev sold you that?"
"Out the back door."
"Cool!"
"How's about a little taste?"
"Sure!"
Ricky broke the seal and offered me the first taste and I took a tentative swallow.
"C'mon, Cuz, take a good hit!" he growled.
So I took a bigger swallow. Wow! Like hot cough syrup. And then a burning in my stomach. And then a warm glow spreading through my body.
"Ah, 1963. A good year." I gave the bottle back to Ricky.
"Cheers," Ricky said, and took a hit. "Let's go see the girls."
We went out the back gate and down the alley, past the house with the lion, and across the street. When we got to Debbie's we went around the back and climbed over the fence into her yard. The thick, verdant trees kept out the moonlight, so it was pretty dark and we walked up to her bedroom window (how I knew which window was hers is another story) to see what was happening.
A light was on in her bedroom and we could hear music through the open window. My heart was pounding in my chest. Ricky tried to see inside; the curtains were parted an eighth of an inch; there was no screen. We heard giggling, and someone walked across the room.
"Let's say hi," Ricky suggested.
"Her Mom might be in there," I whispered.
We heard somebody say "fuck."
"No Mom," Ricky grinned. He tapped on the window sill and the music stopped. "Hey, girls," he said softly.
The curtains parted another fraction of an inch and a blue eye peered out.
"Hi!" Ricky said brightly.
It was Debbie. She opened the curtains wider. "You... " she blustered.
"Whatcha girls doin'?" Ricky asked innocently.
"You scared me to death!" she frowned at us.
"Hey, how's the party goin'?" Ricky asked, waving the bottle of Southern Comfort in the air.
"Who is it?" someone said from inside the room.
"Yeah, who?"
We heard hushed conversation and more faces crowded to the window. There was Joy, a cheerleader
who had moved here from California a couple of years ago. Behind her was Sherry, the cute curly-headed girl Ricky had danced with at the Top Deck. There were a couple more I didn't know. When they saw a couple of guys at the window they all began pulling on bathrobes, which was a real shame, considering how fine all those tanned bods looked in those little pajama numbers.
"Hi, Ricky!" Sherry squealed happily.
"Hiya, babe."
"Hey, he's got a bottle," Joy said.
"We're ready for a party," Ricky said.
The music started back up with Dion singing "Lonely Teenager," and Ricky passed the bottle in to the girls. Joy and Debbie took drinks and then passed it back to us.
"Not thirsty?" Ricky said to Sherry.
"I've got a Coke," she said, popping her gum.
Debbie was really looking fine tonight, and I told her so. She had on a flimsy little white thing over her pink shorty pajamas, and her hair was combed out and hanging loose down past her shoulders. She had on a thin gold necklace that sparkled against her soft brown skin. Her long legs were bare, and her toenails were painted pink. She smiled seductively, running her tongue over her lips, when I told her how good she looked, and I felt a hot rush inside my body that had nothing to do with Southern Comfort.
"Hey, Sherry, that's a nice camel hair gown you got on, there," Ricky said
"Camel hair?"
"Yeah, it's still got the humps in it."
"Smart-aleck."
"Hey, let's have another drink!"
"Hey, bartender!"
"You guys be quiet, or my Mom'll be in here."
"You got anything by the Shirelles?"
"Here, play this."
"Gimme another sip of that."
"You seen Elvis's new movie?"
There was a tapping at the door and we all froze. Debbie's Mom said in a stern voice: "You girls quiet down in there and go to sleep."
"OK, Mom," she said, making a face. "Look," she whispered, " you guys better leave."
"We'll be quiet, just like little church mouses, or church mice," Ricky said. "I swear."
"Yeah, Debbie, don't make them go. They'll be quiet," Sherry said. She had been holding hands with Ricky through the window.
"Hey, why don't we go for a little walk?" Ricky suggested.
"A walk? Where?" Sherry asked.
"Out here." He looked at me, grinning slyly. "You and Debbie come, too. Chaperon us."
"You look like you need a chaperon," Debbie said, giggling.
"Yeah, they do," I said, squeezing her hand. "Come on."
"I don't know... My Mom..."
"Oh, she won't be back. Not if we don't make any more noise." I was looking pleadingly into her eyes. Her hand was hot in mine. "Come on."
"Well... We gotta put some clothes on," Debbie said.
"That's OK, don't go to any trouble for us," Ricky said, jabbing me in the ribs.
She made a moue at him and pulled the curtains closed. "And no peeking."
A few minutes later Debbie and Sherry had climbed through the window and were outside with us. We put our arms around our respective partners and the other girls giggled at us and made kissing sounds through the open window.
"Let's get outta here," Ricky said.
"You guys be quiet, we'll be right back," Debbie said to her friends as we walked away from the window.
"I can't be gone long," Debbie said.
"This won't take long," I said, leering at her.
"That's what I was afraid of," she leered back.
We passed the bottle around and Sherry finally took a couple of sips. "Ooohh, that's good," she said, licking her lips.
"Toldja."
"Hey, there's Nick," Debbie said.
There he was, cruising slowly down Front Street, Reba at his side. They were home early. He revved the engine a couple of times as he downshifted into second and drove around to the back of Davis's house. It was real dark back there; a good place for a goodnight kiss or two.
"Hey, 'djou girls see the big fight tonight?" Ricky asked.
"What fight?"
We told them about Nick and the Ol' Man, and a few minutes later Nick drove off, the throbbing Chevy engine shattering the stillness of the night.
"What was it all about?" Debbie asked.
"That's what we've been wondering all night," I said.
"Well, Reba's father never liked her going out with Nick," Debbie said.
"Yeah, but why would he grab her like that and pull her back in the house?" Ricky asked. "It's not like it was their first date, or anything."
They'd been going together for almost as long as Nick had been in Calhoun, when they'd met on the first day of school. Kind of love at first sight.
"Musta had something to do with Siri being there," I said.
"Yeah, that's a definite possibility," Ricky said.
"That Nick is so cool," Sherry said.
"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Ricky said, like he was offended.
"You're cuter," she giggled, kissing him.
"OK," Ricky said, squeezing her. "Hey, let's go for a walk. I wanna show ya the moon."
"I've seen the moon before."
"Close your eyes, then."
"I don't know if I trust you that much."
"You shouldn't." He had his hand up the back of her blouse.
"Ooohh, quit! That tickles!"
With a wink in our direction Ricky steered Sherry off toward the other side of the house. I was alone with Debbie.
"Well, what are we doing?" Debbie asked.
Suddenly I seemed in charge.
"Umm, let's go this way," I said, nodding in the opposite direction Ricky and Sherry had gone.
"I'm with you," she said, and I put my arm around her and we walked out to the alley behind her house.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Know any nice romantic spots?" she purred.
Hey, this was getting good!
"Well..." my heart was in my throat. "My Grandparent's back porch is a pretty cozy spot." I grimaced to myself in the darkness, waiting for her to tell me how stupid that was.
"Your Grandparent's back porch... " she mused. "God, what if they come out?"
"They won't. They've been in bed for an hour."
"Well, OK." She squeezed my hand.
"Let's go."
So we made our way up the street and across to my house, avoiding the street lights and staying in the shadows, and soon we were on the leather-covered swing on the back porch holding hands and watching the stray beams of moonlight that filtered into the back yard through the gently stirring leaves of the elm trees.
"Nice out here," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders. She had on the same perfume she had worn at the dance.
"Mmmm," she murmured, snuggling against me. She looked up at me. Her blue eyes were wide and questioning in the shifting darkness, her lips were slightly parted, her breath was hot on my cheek. I leaned down and kissed her. She put a warm hand on my thigh. I put my other arm around her and squeezed. She seemed to melt in my arms, and she sighed softly.
I put a tentative hand inside her blouse and cupped her breast and she pressed against my hand. I put my hand inside her bra and felt her nipple harden.
"Mmmm," she said, pressing up hard against me.
I fumbled her bra loose and she ran her hands under my shirt and caressed my chest.
Soon Debbie Shelton lay naked on my Grandparent's back porch swing. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, panting slightly, her blonde hair in her half-closed eyes, her white, red-tipped breasts pointing up at me. She writhed sensuously, smiling wickedly, and held her arms out to me and I hopped out of my clothes and she guided me through the most incredible experience of my short life. It was a little awkward, doing it in a swing, but once we got into the rhythm it worked out OK, almost like a water bed, and I was glad Grandpa kept it well-oiled so it wouldn't squeak. She told me she was technically a virgin. I don't know what she meant by that, and I really didn't care, because she seemed to know what she was doing. Pretty good for a technical virgin.
Afterward we sat cuddled together on the swing, she toying with the three hairs on my chest, me nuzzling her hair.
"That was great, Debbie," I said. Was I supposed to say I loved her?
"Mmmm, you're too much," she murmured.
I hadn't let on this was my first item. I wondered if she could tell?
"I'm sure glad you came over tonight," she said softly, nibbling on my ear, rubbing my thigh.
"You know I've always been crazy about you," I said, looking deep into those blue eyes.
"Really?" Like she never had a clue.
"Yeah, really."
"You're sweet. I've always liked you."
"You shoulda told me."
"A girl doesn't tell a guy things like that, silly."
When I was walking her home she asked me about Nick's sister.
"You went to the funeral, didn't you?
"Yeah."
"I heard she was murdered or something?"
"Murdered."
"Who? Why?"
"Nobody knows."
"What did Nick say? You're pretty good friends with him."
"He said he hadn't seen her in a while."
"Reba said he was pretty torn up about it."
"I guess anybody would be."
"Reba said they didn't get along too well."
"I dunno. Nick doesn't talk much."
"Well, I feel sorry for him."
"Yeah, it's a terrible thing."
"Nick seems like a nice guy."
"Yeah."
"Despite what some people say about him."
"Who?"
"Oh, you know. Parents, mostly. Or some guy who's just jealous."
"Like who?"
"Oh, I don't know. Nobody in particular."
"Oh."
"And Reba really loves him. Does he say much about her?"
"Not really. But I guess he cares about her a lot."
"She said they were going to get married."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Hey! Where you guys been?" It was Ricky whispering fiercely at us. We were back in Debbie's back yard.
"Oh, around," I said.
"Around what?"
"Around the world."
"That good, huh?"
"Hey, watch it," Debbie said.
"I bet he did."
"Hey, you guys, what's going on?"
Debbie's friends hanging out the window, gawking at us.
"We'd better get back inside," Debbie said, holding my hand tightly.
"I guess," I said sadly.
"See you tomorrow?" Debbie said.
"I hope so."
I kissed her amid a bunch of giggling from Ricky and the girls and she and Sherry scrambled back in the window.
"Hey, man, howdja do?" Ricky asked when we were back in the alley.
"Howdjou do?"
He held up a finger for me to sniff.
"Ha, ha."
"So, howdja do? What happened?"
"We went over and sat on my back porch."
"Hey! Great idea."
"Yeah, thought of it all by myself."
"And did what? 'Dja get any?"
"Yeah... Sorta." I lied.
"Sorta?"
"You know. We just fooled around." I was dying to tell him, hell, anybody, that I'd just had my first piece of ass, but it didn't feel right. I don't know. Debbie wouldn't want me blabbing about it. I would tell someone who didn't know her. One of my buddies back home in Chicago.
"She really likes you, man. You could score with her."
"Well, maybe I will."
Ricky looked at me suspiciously, grinning, but didn't say anything.
The bottle was almost empty and we each had one more sip and Ricky dropped it into a trash can in the alley behind the Toomey's house on the way back to my house. I don't know if I was drunk or if I was just glad to be such a virile, red-blooded teenager, but I felt more like I did that night than I ever had before.
I climbed back up into the house with no sweat and I was in the bathroom fooling around with my hair and congratulating myself when I heard a car start up outside. I looked out the window and there was Ol' Man Davis's beat-up wood-panelled station wagon pulling out of his back yard. I watched him drive off and wondered where he could be going. Hell, he was usually too drunk to drive anywhere this late at night; if he wanted to go anywhere he'd just walk down to the saloon. Where else was there to go this late?
I had a little trouble sleeping, what with all the excitement, and I thought about Debbie and listened to the radio most of the night. So I was a little bleary-eyed the next morning when Josephine Cowan came over to tell us the news: Reba Davis had been murdered last night!