Cemetery Street

The next morning, I got into a snowball fight with my dad. After digging out his car and watching it slip and slide down Cemetery Street, my excitement waned. The cold air stung my face as I struggled with the heavy snow. I stopped, taking a quick break. Diane stared at me from behind her front storm door. Guilt rushed over me. When she saw that I noticed her, she opened the door and asked if I would shovel her driveway and front walk.

"Sure," I said.

"Stop in when you're finished."

Sitting at Diane's kitchen table, her teapot screaming on the stove, I agonized that she knew I saw Ms. Horne. "The last time I saw your face so red, I asked if you remembered to put down the toilet seat," Diane teased. I blushed again. "James," she said placing a boiling cup of hot chocolate in front of me. "I owe you an explanation."

"About?" My heart skipped a beat, I pictured last night. I thought of Ms. Horne - how was I going to look her in the eye?

"About Halloween night," she answered. She blew into her hot chocolate as she sat down.

"The Manson thing."

"The Manson thing. You should know why we acted the way we did. I despise violence," she sighed. "But I felt vindicated when Leroy," she paused again; searching for the right words. "Well, when he kicked Manson's ass. I would have loved to do it myself." Diane took another sip. "James promise me that you will never talk about this with Shannie." She stared at me, crow's feet punctuated the corner of her eyes.

"Promise," I said.

"You also have to promise that you will stop asking around town about what happened."

"I've only asked Russell."

"Please don't ask anyone anything. Promise?"

"But I…"

"James. Promise!" It was an order.

"Promise," I answered.

"I've heard that you've had some trouble in school with Michael Manson and his cadres. I don't think it's a coincidence since you live in Manson's Uncle's old house."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're a friend of Shannie and Leroy," Diane said.

"So? I had trouble with them. I stumbled in where I wasn't supposed to be."

Diane sat her cup down and gazed at me over her glasses. "Do you really believe that?"