CARL

It was the older brother who left the bottle of Seagram’s for the boys. Since Carl Owen’s parents were square dancing, he and his two buddies decided to have a sophomoric version of a party. They used ice and 7-UP, with no clue as how to make - let alone drink - a cocktail. 

Kirk called the bowling alley in attempts to get Kim and her two friends to this party. The girls were surprisingly amenable, but a car would have helped. Accepting defeat, the trio switched to shooting pool, blasting Blackout, and continuing their foray into blended whiskey. 

Carl said it was time to go outside, so the boys bundled up and walked quarter mile in a light snow to the Teague’s trailer. There were three girls there - Johnna, Lydia, and Kenna. Johnna was a year out of high school and saw that the boys were already on their way and offered them all a Natural Light. Lydia, a senior, sat on the arm of the chair that Kirk reclined in. She half-flirted and drew looping smoke circles with her generic menthols. Carl and Johnna retreated to the kitchen. 

Kenna and George sat next to each other on an afghan that covered the bottom of the couch. The backs of their hands brushed the other’s a couple of times, but they were silent and watched a small black and white muted t.v. that showed Dick Clark.  

The reality outstripped the anticipation, so around 10:30 the boys headed over to the Morton Building that housed the tractors for the Owen’s landscaping business.  On the way back, though, Carl started talking about how Johnna wanted him. 

“No way. She was being nice to your drunk ass.” 

“She told me in the kitchen to come back later.”

“She’s 19. She wants nothing to do with you. Let’s get inside and warm up.” 

The lights in the Morton building were already on, and the double doors were slightly parted. Inside Hank Russell, a hand on the farm, was tinkering with a tractor. “What are you doing out here, Hank?” 

“What have you boys been drinking, Carl?” 

“Aw, hell. You won’t say nothing will you?” 

Hank pulled a beer from his coat. “Not a word.” 

Carl quickly moved to the Kawasaki 175 and climbed on. “I’m taking this over to Johnna.” 

Carl had just gotten it started when George stepped in and turned off the key. “You shouldn’t be going out there like this.” 

“You mind yourself, George. This here is my bike.” He turned the key back to run and started it again.

Again, George stepped in and turned off the key. “I said you don’t need to go off into that snow.” Carl twisted on the bike and delivered a downhill right that bit into George’s cheek. George was still on a knee when Carl sped off. About halfway across the field back to the Teague’s, the bike got away. The boys in the barn only saw a tail light sliding across the snow.

Carl pushed the machine back, put the kickstand down, rustled the snow out of his hair and said he was going back up to the house. 

His friends followed and said nothing.