In another part of town, Ashley Keilhorn was just getting back from the courthouse. She’d had a few errands to run as long as she was out, and she went through them without a lot of enthusiasm.

Ashley was a big girl – under six feet, but broad through the shoulders and broad through the hips, and admittedly carrying more extra pounds than she should have, pounds that didn’t come off easily and stubbornly hung on despite all kinds of exercise programs and diets. While she was a pretty social person, and had lots of people she gossiped with on the phone, she didn’t have many close friends. Well, hardly any, to be truthful.

Frenchy had always been a pain in the ass to her, as he had been to a lot of people, which was part of why she’d headed down to the courthouse to see him get his earlier in the morning. Watching him talk himself into seven months in jail had made up for a lot of the shit he’d handed her over the years, and it made her feel pretty good. But then, as the kids from school all walked out of the courthouse, she’d heard Jack and Vixen and Alan and Summer making plans to have a picnic lunch out at some lake in the woods somewhere, and overhearing them had brought her right back down. Damn, it would be nice to hang out at a lake with some friends, she’d thought. She had plenty of phone friends, but they weren’t real friends, and certainly not boyfriends. She knew right at the instant she heard about it that it wouldn’t do to ask Jack and the others if she could tag along, either; it was clear from what was said that there was going to be some personal stuff going on, too. She’d be an extra, and would feel lousy about it.

So she’d taken her time going back home. There wasn’t much to do the rest of the day but strip off most of her clothes to stave off the heat in the house, and try to find someone to talk with on the phone. She’d done all too damn much of that this summer, she thought, and even the idea of doing more of it brought on a boredom that was almost physically painful. It would be so much better to spend the afternoon hanging out with someone, preferably a guy, and preferably a guy who would take her seriously, or at least one willing to overlook the extra inches and extra pounds. Someone she could enjoy being with, at least a little. Since she’d watched Jack and Vixen – both who had previously been serious loners – get together in the last few days, with Alan and Summer right after them, she had been feeling really left out.

The heck of it was that she knew that most guys around town wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with her. But there was a possible exception, one she’d thought about for months, and had been obsessing over for the last week or more – someone who might be willing to take her at least a little bit seriously. A dozen times, two dozen, maybe more, she’d had her finger on the phone to call him up and at least get a little friendly with him. But each and every time she hadn’t dialed the number; the possibility of him blowing her off like most of the other guys in town had been more than she’d wanted to risk.

At least this time she had an excuse to call him, something that might allow her to work the subject around to the one she really wanted to pursue. This time she wasn’t going to chicken out. She headed into the house and out onto the shady back porch, pulled out the phone, and dialed the number she’d wanted to dial for days. It rang several times, and just about the time Ashley figured no one was home he picked up the phone. Be bright, she thought. It’s now or never.

“Hi, Lyle,” she said. “This is Ashley Keilhorn. Guess who we’re not going to have bugging us at school this year?”

“I heard that Payne in the Ass got his ass kicked out of the school,” he replied, obviously surprised to hear from her. “That might make things a little more fun.”

“It’s better than that,” Ashley giggled. “You heard that Frenchy got busted for assault, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” he replied in obvious dispirit. Ashley knew that Frenchy had been all over his ass over the years. “I figure he’s going to want to pound the snot out of someone to make up for it.”

“It’s going to have to wait for at least seven months,” Ashley laughed. “That’s how long he’s going to be in jail.”

“Jail? Seven months?” Lyle replied in amazement. “Ashley, I know you talk around a bit, but where did you hear that?”

“Down at the courthouse, where I went for the hearing,” she replied warmly. “I just had to see if he was going to get his, and boy, did he ever! Maybe that’ll teach him to not mouth off at a judge.”

“Wow,” Lyle replied, the news obviously sinking in. “That’s . . . God, I can’t believe it. That’s even better than Payne in the Ass getting run out of town.”

OK, a good start, a real good start, Ashley thought. Now to make something of it. “Yeah, it makes it a little better to look forward to getting back to school, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been looking forward to it,” Lyle admitted, “other than having it over with. I’m not going to miss it when we graduate.”

“Well, me either,” Ashley said. “I’m getting ready to do the next thing, even if I’m not sure what the next thing is. But hey, we’re seniors, and with Frenchy not around we ought to be able to enjoy it a little.” This isn’t getting anywhere, she thought. Try a different tack. “So what have you been doing all summer?”

“Not much,” Lyle sighed. “Mostly sitting around reading, but that’s getting dull as hell. This morning was a little better than usual. Mrs. Wine had me over to her house to help out with her basketball training.”

“Basketball?” Ashley said. “I thought you didn’t do sports because of your asthma.”

“I don’t,” he said, “but as big as I am, I can look like a big defender that the shrimps have to learn how to get around. It really is sort of fun, and it doesn’t wear me down any. At least it got me out of the house for the morning.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Ashley replied, sensing a little bit of an opening. “Other than going to work I don’t get out of the house much, either. It just gets damn dull sitting around all the time. It’d be nice to get out and hang out with someone sometime, but it just doesn’t seem to happen.”

“No fooling,” Lyle sighed. “All too many of the guys I know either want to talk sports or talk trash, or they’re fooling around with stuff that would cause my asthma to break out. So I don’t hang out with the guys very much. And girls? There aren’t many girls who would even talk to me nicely.”

All right, here we go, Ashley thought. Make it a good one. “Lyle,” she said, “you’re a nice guy, and there are all too many girls who don’t see that. I think I do. If you’d like to go hang out somewhere, I’m willing. In fact, it’d be nice to hang out with a guy like you for a while.”

“Ashley?” he said distantly. “Are you putting me on?”

“No Lyle, I’m not. Think about it, I get about as much chance to hang out with guys as you get to hang out with girls. What do you say we get together and do something this afternoon, just to have a good time?”

“I’d like that,” he said, sounding a little dazed at the idea. He probably thinks this isn’t really happening to him, Ashley thought, not that if he called me up with the same proposition I’d have trouble believing it, too. “Maybe we could get together at the Frostee Freeze.”

“If you want, that would be fine,” she told him. “But what with working there, I’d kind of like to give the place a pass for once.” Mostly because I don’t want someone to see us and start teasing us, and maybe ruin something before it gets going. It’s going to take a while before he gets comfortable with the idea. Hell, it’s going to take me a while, too. “We could head down to the Dairy Queen in Albany River, though. Or maybe get a pizza or a burger down there, or something.”

“I could do that,” he said, “but I don’t have wheels.”

“I do,” she said. “I really need to change clothes, but I’ll pick you up in a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I need to grab a quick shower. It got kind of sweaty out there this morning.”

“All right,” she said with a smile on her face and in her voice. “Be there in a few.”

“See you then.”

Ashley closed the phone. By God, she thought, how about that? A date, a real date. Well, sort of a date, but maybe it’ll lead to the real thing. As much as you worried and agonized about the whole damn thing, it turned out to be pretty easy, didn’t it? Now, what do I wear? Just something casual, shorts and a T-shirt or something. No point in going all out; this isn’t a real date, just two fellow outcasts getting together. If I overdo it I might scare him off. In any case, something cooler than what I’ve got on – it’s going to be hot out there this afternoon.

She headed up to her room, eyeing the clock. If he has to take a shower, it’s going to take him a few minutes, she thought, so no point in being in a big ass rush. I’ve probably got time to call Heather and Laurel, and pass along the word about Frenchy – it’s always nice to get one up on them.

On the other hand, she smiled to herself, that could take time, and that word is going to get out pretty quick whatever I do. I’ve got more important things to do than to gossip about that asshole.

“Boy, they really picked it over,” Howie said to Misty after surveying what remained in the refrigerator after Jack and Vixen left. “We can do peanut butter sandwiches and baked beans, I guess.”

“If there’s some jam we can do peanut butter and jelly,” Misty said hopefully. “I don’t need much more than that.”

“I suppose,” Howie shrugged. “Let’s face it, they were heading out to celebrate, and you and I had enough hassles with Frenchy that I wouldn’t have minded going with them. But there’s only room for four in the Jeep, and with the coolers and Stas there wouldn’t have been any room for us.”

“That’s all right,” Misty smiled, taking advantage of the refrigerator door being open to snag a diet soft drink. “We can have fun here by ourselves. It might be better without them around, anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Howie conceded, digging around to find a jar of strawberry jam and setting the baked beans on the counter. There weren’t a lot of beans; he could eat them by himself, although he’d share them with Misty if she wanted. “Let’s face it, Jack and Vixen will probably be talking birds, and Alan and Summer will probably be talking that role playing game I guess they’re writing. None of them are going to be talking Nintendo or football.”

“Football season is coming up pretty quick, isn’t it?” the little redhead said as Howie closed the refrigerator and hunted around for bread and peanut butter.

“Yeah, practice starts Tuesday, and who knows why Tuesday instead of Monday,” he glanced at his girlfriend, who was wearing short shorts and a sleeveless top that was so thin her bra showed through clearly. He knew what was under that bra, and with Jack and Vixen gone he knew he had a good chance to explore that wonderful area some more, which was probably more than Jack was going to get to do with Vixen since they were going to be with friends. Being left behind wasn’t all that bad a deal when you looked at it that way, he thought before continuing, “Let’s face it, Misty, it’s going to be cutting into our Nintendo time.”

“And our time for other stuff,” she smiled, just about reading his mind. “It’s kind of a shame that football has to keep us from that.”

“Yeah, as soon as school starts it’s going to be hard to find time alone,” he agreed as he hauled an armload over to the kitchen table. “So we’d better have our fun while we can.”

“You really like your football, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “Dad says it’s one of those experiences you get in high school that will stay with you, and I think he’s right. I personally think Jack is crazy to want to pass it up for his bird watching, but then he’s always been a little weird.”

“Well, I guess you do what you want to do,” she smiled. “I didn’t go to any JV games last year, but I got dragged to my brother’s varsity games. Thank goodness it looks like he’s not going to be playing this year, so maybe I can get to some of your games. What position do you play?”

“Well, last year I was a running back, but I filled in at quarterback some,” Howie explained. “I can probably run the ball about as well and throw it a lot better than Walt Lethbridge, but he was a sophomore so he got more playing time. It’s too early to tell, but since I’m a sophomore this year and he’s on varsity, I might get quite a bit of time at quarterback.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” she smiled, taking a couple slices of bread from the wrapper, and starting to smear peanut butter on one of them, while he did the same thing with the strawberry jam. “My brother was just a big, dumb lineman who got run over a lot, but to hear him talk about it he was the greatest football player Spearfish Lake ever had.”

“We’ve had some good ones, just not recently,” Howie agreed. “I’m just hoping when I get on varsity next year that we can do a little better than some of those jokers have done the last few years.”

“I hope so too,” she shook her head. “It’s no fun to sit in the stands freezing my ass watching the team get goose-egged again.”

“It’s a hell of a lot less fun to be on the field when it happens,” Howie shook his head. “At least the JVs had a better record than the varsity last year, so there’s a little hope for the future.”

“Yeah, well, I hope so,” she sighed. “Howie, I know you like your football, but I think we’re both going to have enough of it before the season is over with. Maybe we ought to talk about something else while we still can.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. “Jack keeps telling me that there’s more to life than football and Nintendo, and he may be right. At least, for him, anyway. Dad keeps saying he’s crazy to pass up the chance to play football, even with some of the jokers we’ve got on varsity, but he doesn’t want to put up with that shit. And, well, if he doesn’t want to, I guess I don’t blame him.”

“That’s true,” she conceded, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “And God knows they’ve got some assholes on the team, like my brother, and like Frenchy. Well, were on the team, since neither of them are going to be playing this year, I guess.”

“Right,” Howie smiled. “I doubt like hell they’re going to let Frenchy out of jail just to play football. Good place for him.”

“Darn right,” Misty smiled at him. “Even though we really ought to be thanking him for getting us together.”

“There’s that,” Howie said. A week before he’d gotten in the middle of a yelling match between Frenchy and Misty, mostly to protect her. He’d come out of it with a couple bruises, a mild concussion, and a red-headed girlfriend. On the whole, he figured he’d gotten the better part of the deal and that the injuries had been more than worth it. Even though they hadn’t been going together long, Misty was a lot of fun and she liked to do a lot of things he also liked. “But he’d never appreciate it,” Howie said. “Wouldn’t it be nice if they’d just keep him in jail?”

“It probably won’t happen,” she sighed. “But it is nice to think about, and we won’t have him around to mess things up for a while. It’ll be nice to be able to go out somewhere and not have to be looking over our shoulders.”

“No shit,” Howie agreed. “You know, we don’t have to just hang around the house to stay out of his sight anymore. Maybe after lunch we could get our swimsuits on, head down to the beach for a while, and maybe stop by the Frostee Freeze.”

“I’ll bet you want to show off that you have a girlfriend, too,” she giggled.

“Of course,” he grinned. “What’s the use of having a girlfriend as cute as you are if I can’t show her off?”

“Shit if I know where Frenchy got his beer,” Matt Effingham was telling Eddie Awkerman right about then. “He always played that real close to his chest. He didn’t want nobody knowing nothing about it. I heard some of the goddamnedest excuses out of him, too, but I wasn’t going to call him on it. I mean, you know Frenchy.”

“Yeah, doesn’t surprise me,” Eddie said. “He sure liked to be able to hold having a corner on the beer supply over people. So how’s he taking being in jail?”

“Not worth a shit, from what I could tell,” Matt replied. “And I couldn’t tell much. Except for a couple minutes in court this morning, I didn’t see him from the time they hauled us into the slammer. That ain’t no goddamn fun, I want to tell you.”

“I have to ask,” Eddie said, “how come he got seven months and you and Larry only got probation?”

“You mean besides Frenchy mouthing off to the judge? Well, Frenchy decided he didn’t need no goddamn lawyer. They threw that aggravated assault charge at the three of us, but the lawyer I had got it knocked down to simple assault in exchange for a guilty plea. Since Frenchy knew better, like he always did, he got slammed with the full charge. At least Larry and I sort of walked by comparison.”

“Sounds like Frenchy,” Eddie shook his head. “But that still leaves me with the problem of finding beer for the party tomorrow night. I could get a little, I suppose, but nothing like as much as we need.”

“I sure can’t help you on that,” Matt said. “I mean, I would if I could. About all I can tell you is that wherever Frenchy got his beer, it wasn’t around here. He always made the beer runs by himself, and it never took him less than about three or four hours, even when I knew he was in a hurry.”

“Maybe down in Wisconsin somewhere,” Eddie offered.

“Could be,” Matt said. “Sometimes the stuff he got had the Michigan deposit on it, but sometimes it didn’t, and the stuff that didn’t probably came from out of there somehow. But exactly where, I don’t know.”

“Damn, there’s got to be someplace,” Eddie said, feeling even more frustrated.

“Oh, sure there’s got to be someplace,” Matt agreed. “Hell, Frenchy made a beer run the first of the week to get set up for the party. He hid it out on the edge of town, but when we went over to get a twelve to sip on, someone had ripped off the whole stash.”

“Guess it wasn’t hidden as well as he thought,” Eddie smiled. “Sure would be nice to know who had it.”

“I’m sure Frenchy would like to know,” Matt shook his head. “Hell, he’d break out of jail to beat up the fuck-all that stole that beer. But you got to figure it’s just plain gone. But hey, if you want to ante up for the beer, there has to be someplace to get it.”

“I’ve got sources, I could get a twelve or two, but not two or three dozen,” Eddie shook his head. “What I can’t figure is why Frenchy thought he had a corner on the beer market in town anyway.”

“Well, he didn’t, even though he liked to think otherwise. Anybody can come up with a few cans, but if someone underage wanted a bunch, it was Frenchy or nobody. But I can tell you this much: there just about has to be someone around this town that knows where to get that much beer, and where they’re getting it probably isn’t around town.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty clear,” Eddie agreed. “But who do I ask?”

“I’ll tell you what, I don’t think it’s worth the effort to ask anyone on the team,” Matt replied thoughtfully. “Frenchy probably would have pounded the crap out of anyone he thought was trying to cut in on his territory. But he hasn’t been the beer source forever, only the last couple years. Somebody had to bring the beer into town before him, and the place they got it might be the same place. You could ask around; some of the guys that used to be on the team three or four years ago might know. Hell, one of them might be over twenty-one and be willing to help out on a tradition like the pre-season party.”

“You know, Matt, that’s damn good thinking,” Eddie smiled. “Any ideas where I could start?”

“Well, good question,” Matt frowned, thinking about it. “Allen Untermeyer comes to mind. He’s still in town, and as far as I know he ain’t working at anything much. He never used to have any problems finding enough beer to keep him lit up. He played football up to his senior year, when that goddamn Cody Archer kicked the crap out of his knee just before the season opener.”

“I don’t know him very well,” Eddie shrugged. “I do know he still manages to stay lit up most of the time, and I don’t think he’s twenty-one yet. He could really be a possibility, or at least he might know where to get the stuff. Can you think of anyone else I could ask?”

“Well, let’s see. I think Jim Hotchkiss is still around; he used to like to party pretty good, and Mike Hardnett. One of them might know something. I’ll think about it some, see if I can think of anyone else. If none of them can help you, get back with me.”

“Will do,” Eddie said, seeing at least a hint of light at the end of the tunnel. This had proved to be harder than he’d thought. “You going to come to the party?”

“I don’t know,” Matt admitted. “You know that I can’t be on the team anymore.”

“Well, true,” Eddie agreed, “but you’re part of the spirit of the team, you deserve to be there even if you can’t play.”

“Yeah, but being at the party and not being able to play ain’t my idea of fun,” Matt shrugged. “Besides, you have to figure that there’s a risk of the party being busted, and being on probation I don’t want to run the risk. That could land my ass right back in jail.”

“In all the years they’ve been having the party, it’s never been busted,” Eddie pointed out. “I mean, yeah, it’s supposed to be illegal, but nobody has ever fucked with it. Football is still too big a deal in this town, the cops would never dare to bust it.”

“Maybe not,” Matt shook his head “but Frenchy never thought anyone would dare bust his ass for him pounding on somebody, and look what happened.”

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.