Summer of '69 Page 86

It’s not a problem. Kirby is too disconcerted by the events of the night to impose on Mr. Ames for a ride anyway. She calls a taxi, and they send a burly driver covered in tattoos who looks like a long-haul fisherman. Why couldn’t they have sent this guy last night? Kirby wonders. That would have solved everything.

Kirby promptly falls asleep in the back seat, awakening only as they turn onto Circuit Avenue, at which point she sits up and gathers her things. She can’t believe she missed the senator. She hates Luke Winslow! And then, as though she has somehow conjured him with this one thought, Kirby sees Luke pacing on the sidewalk in front of the house.

No! she thinks. No, this can’t be happening, but yes, that’s him, fists clenched, muttering to himself. He has showered and changed, at least. His hair is combed, and he’s wearing a white polo shirt and blue seersucker Bermudas. This is almost worse, she decides; he looks respectable.

“I’ve gotten the address wrong,” Kirby tells the taxi driver. “Keep going.”

“Keep going where?” the taxi driver asks. Kirby leans over the seat and notices a tattoo of a snarling Elvis on his forearm.

“Methodist Campground?” Kirby says. She doesn’t know Darren’s exact address. “The big blue house? Judge Frazier’s house? Do you know it?”

“I do, actually,” the driver says. He winds around Ocean Park and a few moments later pulls up in front of Darren’s house. “Buck twenty-five.”

Kirby gives him a dollar fifty, then gets out of the taxi. She stands at the white gate for a second, wondering if she would be better off waking up Evan in the basement or finding a pay phone—there’s one over by the fudge shop—and calling the police directly.

But…she’s here. She strides up the walk and knocks on the front door. A second later, she’s face to face with the good doctor. Dr. Frazier is wearing athletic shorts and a white tank top; her hair is held off her face by a striped sweatband.

“Hello,” she says.

“Dr. Frazier…”

“Darren’s asleep,” she says. “He doesn’t have to be at work until noon.”

“I have an urgent situation,” Kirby says. “I need his help.”

“What kind of urgent situation?” Dr. Frazier asks. Her voice is arch. Kirby holds the woman in high esteem and she wishes the feeling were mutual but it just isn’t, and now she can’t even lean on Mr. Ames’s good opinion of her.

“It’s my roommate,” Kirby says. “She’s dating someone who hurts her, and he’s waiting for her now outside the house on Narragansett.”

Kirby watches Dr. Frazier struggle between doctor-mode and mother-mode. Mother-mode wins. “What does this have to do with Darren?”

“Nothing, but—”

“I think it’s better that he not get involved,” Dr. Frazier says. “He’s a good boy. He stays out of trouble. I take it your roommate’s boyfriend is white?”

Kirby nods. She doesn’t understand what that has to do with anything.

“If Darren gets into an altercation with a white boy…” Dr. Frazier says. She narrows her eyes. “You should find someone else to help you.”

“I thought maybe Darren could reason with him.”

“Men who hurt women can’t be reasoned with,” Dr. Frazier says. “If it’s serious, call the police.”

“It’s serious,” Kirby says.

“Okay, then. Would you like to use the phone?”

Would she like to use the phone? Dr. Frazier is watching her closely, possibly to determine her motives. Do the police need to be called or is she really here only so she can see Darren?

“You’re welcome to come in,” Dr. Frazier says. “I have nothing against you personally, Kirby.”

But you do, Kirby thinks. Though she doesn’t have time to defend herself right now.

“I’ll go get my landlord,” Kirby says. “Thank you, Dr. Frazier. Sorry to bother you so early.” Kirby turns and hurries back down the walk and out the gate while, she’s sure, Dr. Frazier watches her from the doorway.

Kirby runs toward Narragansett Avenue. She won’t wake Evan. She can handle Luke herself.

She’s a block and a half away when things start to unfold. A black sedan pulls up in front of the house and Patty gets out of the passenger side. Kirby can’t see who’s driving but the car is unfamiliar. The car drives off.

“Patty!” Kirby yells.

Patty turns toward Kirby’s voice but then Luke approaches her and…Patty hugs him. They start kissing right there on the sidewalk and Kirby thinks, Okay? Maybe Luke has had a chance to calm down. But still, Kirby is concerned. And sure enough, Luke pushes Patty away, hard, so that she stumbles, and then he grabs her by the hair and starts pulling her up the stairs to the house.

Kirby runs. “Let go of her!”

Luke doesn’t let go. He’s swearing under his breath, calling Patty a whore, asking Patty where she spent the night, who she was with, how many guys she slept with. Patty is crying softly, saying, “I was with my sister Sara. We were at a party on Chappy. Let go of me, Luke, you’re hurting me.”

“I thought you liked it when I hurt you,” Luke says.

Kirby takes the front steps two at a time and starts pummeling Luke’s back. “Let go of her. Luke, stop!”

Luke swings around and backhands Kirby right across the face.

She’s stunned. No one has ever hit her before. She brings her fingers to her lip. She’s bleeding.

“Are you kidding me?” a voice says.

Kirby backs up a few steps as Darren comes charging up the stairs. He regards Luke for one second then punches him. The hit is solid; the sound, gruesome. Luke drops to the ground.

“Go inside,” Darren says to Kirby. “Call the police.”

Luke doesn’t even bother getting up. He just lies splayed across the yard, whimpering.

Patty kneels down next to him. “He’s hurt!” she says. She glares at Darren. “You hurt him!”

“He hit Kirby,” Darren says. “Any man who would raise his hand to a woman does not deserve your sympathy.”

“It was self-defense,” Patty says. “Kirby was attacking him.”

“Attacking him?” Kirby says. Her face stings; she’s going to have a fat lip. “He was dragging you by the hair like a caveman.”

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