Condemned

by Christopher Renna

  When Hailey's grandmother Mavis was alive, she'd spend hours sewing quilts for her granddaughters. Carefully selected panels of flowers or animals or farm scenes or girly things were stitched together with precision by dutiful fingers and a grandmother's love. And Hailey loved those handmade quilts of heavy padding and cotton threads with their earth tones and subdued pastels. Yet now she felt very much like one of the quilts, constructed of squares that someone believed constituted a representation of Hailey. But no matter how much love had gone into making the quilt, those scenic squares were more a representation of the maker than of the receiver. Hailey wanted to pull at the seams that held together the images others had assigned to her. She wanted to replace at least one panel with something of her own design, no matter how haphazardly she'd constructed it. At least it would truly represent her.

  She clenched her hands, pressing her fingernails into her palms. Then she straightened her posture and blurted, "I lost my virginity."

  The car suddenly accelerated.

  "Oh, dear Lord," her father bellowed as he apparently weakened his foot on the gas pedal.

  Her mother burst into tears. "No. Hailey, no."

  Hailey glanced at her fourteen-year-old sisters. They stared at her with wide-eyed amazement.

  Her father shouted, "Look what you've done to your mother!"

  One of the twins giggled.

  "Was it Conner?" he asked. "I'll kill that son of a bitch."

  "Eugene, no. Don't talk like that!" Her mother wiped at her cheeks. "Settle down. No more talking. Let's get home. Please."

  Again, he locked eyes with Hailey in the rearview mirror.

  Again, she averted her eyes to the window and slyly smiled at her reflection. Although her declaration wasn't technically true, the sense of satisfaction she'd achieved was like a burst of sunshine on the gloomy, overcast Sunday. She was confident God would not hold the little white lie against her.

  * * *

  Lou stood outside the surf and turf restaurant while Dave went inside to claim their table. Shivering in the cold air, he lit a cigarette before Stella and Walter arrived. Huddled against the restaurant's brick wall, Lou envisioned the pilot episode the team could create to wow the Hollywood producers. After interviewing the priest on Tuesday, he was confident that they'd be able to construct a compelling episode that would secure their production deal.

  How much money would the network be willing to pay upfront for the Jared Smith possession story? It had to be worth a pretty penny.

  As he flicked the cigarette butt to the street, Stella and Walter rounded the corner from the parking lot. Upon seeing Lou, she smiled broadly. Walter, on the other hand, displayed an expression that seemed suspended between boredom and restrained joy. Lou wondered how the clash of personalities worked so well together, but then acknowledged that he and Dave also appeared as a contrast of character.

  "You should kick that nasty habit to the curb," Stella said, "instead of cigarette butts."

  "One of these days." He followed them inside the moderately lit but warm lobby. "Wouldn't be surprised if it snowed tonight."

  "Not in the forecast until Wednesday," Stella replied.

  "Just in time for Thanksgiving."

  The high-school-aged hostess escorted them to their table. Before sitting, Lou weighed the value of asking if she knew Jared Smith. But he kept his mouth shut, knowing the interview with the priest was the only remaining dialogue needed to close the story.

  Stella draped her coat over the back of a chair, then sat. "Speaking of Thanksgiving, I'll be heading home Wednesday afternoon."

  "Both of you?" Lou asked.

  "Well, Walter has his family, and I'll be having dinner with mine. You don't have plans for Thanksgiving?"

  "I can eat a big-ass turkey dinner and give thanks next week. It's just another way they trick us into spending money."

  "Black Friday is worse," she said. "Besides, Thanksgiving is about getting together with family and friends."

  "Eh," Lou grunted. "I guess."

  She interlaced her fingers and set her cupped hands onto the table. "Let's talk about your interview with the kids."

  Leaning forward, Lou perused the wine menu. "We met with all four boys. At one point, Levi cut the interview short and never returned. But that's okay—"

  "Why? What happened?"

  "He provided a few details about Jared, but the other three had the more interesting story to tell. And it involves all three of them . . . well, all four actually, including Jared."

  "Great. Let's hear it."

  Lou revealed several carefully folded sheets of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Dave and I started piecing together bits from each interview to construct the full story."

  SEVENTEEN

  Conner awoke early the first Saturday of summer break, June ninth. To celebrate the end of the school year, Adam's parents had reserved a cabin at Lake Bantam for the week. It was only an hour drive to the lake, but they'd decided to eat breakfast out and do some shopping for supplies before hitting the road.

  The previous night, Conner and a group of buddies had hung out, drinking beers, recalling moments from junior year, and planning for the summer. He was slightly hungover, and he imagined that Adam, Jared, and Trevor likely felt the same. Still, Mrs. Wheeler had insisted that everyone be on time, so he jumped out of bed and quickly dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top. He'd already packed a small suitcase with clothes and shoes. Now he just needed to wash his face, brush his teeth, and then shove his toiletries into the suitcase. Before running out the door, he'd say goodbye to his parents and brother. Then it was a week of hanging with his best friends, swimming, lying out in the sun, and fantasizing about life at UCONN, studying sports medicine.

  A knock on the bedroom door stirred Adam from sleep. "What?" he shouted, although his face was pressed into his pillow.

  The door cracked open, the sound followed by his father's voice. "Are you guys up? We're leaving in forty-five minutes."

  "We're up now." Groaning, he shifted onto his side and nudged Trevor's arm. "Time to get up."

  "I'll let you guys get to it. But seriously, up and at 'em. Your mom wants to get settled in the cabin by noon."

  "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Fine. We're awake."

  Trevor stretched and released a muffled yawn. "Is it really time to wake up, or is your dad tricking us to make sure we're on time?"

  Adam fumbled for his phone on the floor. He glanced at the time. "No. He's not tricking us. We gotta get our asses in gear."

  Tossing the blanket aside, Trevor swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. "I gotta go get Jared." He looked over his shoulder. "You think I should take a shower?"

  Adam moved close to his buddy and sniffed. "Yeah, you stink."

  "Screw you. I do not."

  "You asked me, and I told you. So hurry up and shower first, then I'll take one while you pick up Jared."

  * * *

  Parked in front of Jared's house, Trevor only had to honk once before Jared rushed out to the car. He jumped in the passenger seat and threw his duffle bag in the back. Grinning, he scratched at the stubble on his chin. Anxiously, he said, "Let's go, man."

  "What?" Trevor asked. "Your parents giving you a hard time?"

  "My dad."

  "What'd you do this time?"

  "My report card. And he smelled alcohol on my breath last night."

  "Not the first time." Trevor chuckled. "But you weren't drunk."

  "Adam can get away with that. None of the rest of us can."

  "Adam's not a drunk."

  "You know what I mean." Jared glanced toward his house. "Let's go before my father comes out here and says I can't go."

  Incredulous, Trevor exclaimed, "Seriously?"

  "That's what he threatened last night."

  "Say no more, buddy. Buckle up." Trevor accelerated, screeching away from the curb as they both laughed. "Lake Bantam here we come!"

  * * *

  The
boys spent most of the trip to the lake on their phones or talking about random subjects that Adam's parents had little interest in. Jared dozed off at one point, using Conner's shoulder as a pillow. When they arrived at a grocery store, everyone emerged from the car, excited to begin their week at the lake.

  The two-story cabin wasn't even a cabin at all. It was a dark-gray, three-bedroom box of a house situated on the edge of the lake with its own private beach. But private beach was a stretch of the imagination, as it was no more than a small patch of sand with restricted public access. There was, however, a ten-foot narrow, wooden dock that extended out into the lake. Although it was nearly noon, only a few boats floated on the calm water.

  At first sight, Mrs. Wheeler was not pleased with the worn exterior of the house. But she relaxed once she discovered that the updated interior matched the online photos. "Oh, thank God," she said, entering the kitchen. "I would not be happy if we had to grill our food every day that we're here."

  Mr. Wheeler directed the boys outside. "Let's unload the car."

  Before the trip, they'd been informed that they'd share the two guest bedrooms, one with a queen-sized bed and the other with two twin beds. The guys had decided to sleep wherever there was an available spot at the end of each night. On that first day in the cabin, Conner and Jared carried their luggage to the room with the twin beds, intending to sleep there most nights.

  Jared dropped his duffle bag onto the bed closest to the window. "I doubt we'll spend much time in here."

  "Probably not." Conner pulled his tank top off and slung it onto the bed post. "Wanna jump into the water before lunch?"

  "Sure." He slipped off his sneakers and unbuttoned his jeans. "I'll get changed and then let's go."

  Two years prior, during a trip to another lake, Jared had swum too far out and suffered a cramp. He'd never been much of a good swimmer, and the cramp had only made the situation worse. As he was going under, Conner, Adam, and Trevor swam to his rescue. Each had claimed equal credit for rescuing their buddy. Ever since then, the memory surfaced whenever they went swimming.

  Conner walked outside to the wrap-around deck and looked out to the lake. "It's pretty warm, but I bet the water's cold."

  Jared called out, "It won't kill us."

  The sliding glass door to the second guest room opened, and Adam bounded out, rushing toward Conner. He leaped onto Conner's back, sending them both to their knees. "This is gonna be great!"

  "Why do you always jump on me like we're still in fourth grade?"

  "Because you always let your guard down."

  Trevor hurried out to the deck and collapsed onto his buddies.

  Forced onto his stomach, Conner griped, "You're killing me."

  Then Jared joined the heap of young flesh and muscle.

  "Now you're definitely going to kill me," Conner huffed as he tried to heave himself from the deck floor. "Okay. I give in. Get off me."

  Mrs. Wheeler yelled from the gravel driveway below. "Don't hurt each other. We don't even know where the closest hospital is."

  The boys separated, then raced across the deck, down the wooden steps, and through the yard to the dock. One after the other, they dove into the chilly lake. Splashing, hollering, and boisterous frolicking commenced. Minutes later, they lay out on the deck to dry in the sun.

  Trevor sighed with satisfaction. "One year left."

  "Finally seniors," Adam said.

  Jared placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. "Then we got one last summer together before college."

  "It'll be the best summer before college," Conner added.

  Several moments passed, then Adam said, "It's gonna be weird when we're not together anymore."

  "It'll be fine," Conner said. "We won't be too far from each other."

  "You're going to UCONN," Jared said. "And Trevor's pretty much already in Princeton. I don't know where I'm going yet."

  Adam propped himself up on his elbows. "Hopefully UCONN with me and Conner."

  Trevor groaned. "Then I'll be all by myself."

  "Go to UCONN with us," Adam said.

  Laughing, Trevor replied, "My parents will kill me if I don't go to an Ivy school."

  "I gotta improve my skills on the court," Adam said, "or I won't be going to any school."

  Sitting upright, Conner brought his knees to his chest. He wiped the few remaining drops of water from his legs. "Let's not start the trip on a downer, guys. We're supposed to be having fun, not getting all depressed about splitting up for college."

  "Yeah," Trevor agreed. "No whining until next summer."

  "C'mon," Adam said. "Let's go see if lunch is ready."

  Rushing to their feet, they headed back to the cabin.

  * * *

  They lounged around the cabin the following morning before deciding to venture out and explore around the lake. They didn't wander far, only making it a few blocks to an area known as Deer Island, a stretch of several roads with dozens of houses. But there was really nothing interesting to see.

  Back at the house, they jumped into the lake and then spread out on oversize towels laid out on their private beach.

  "Maybe your dad will let us take the car tonight," Jared said.

  Trevor seconded the suggestion. "There's gotta be something to do around here. I mean, it's cool hanging, but we might be bored as hell in a few days."

  Shielding the sun from his eyes, Adam replied, "Maybe."

  Later at dinner, he asked his father if they could use the Ford Expedition to drive around for a couple hours. Initially, Mr. Wheeler was hesitant, but then he agreed when the boys said that he and Mrs. Wheeler could enjoy some time alone.

  There wasn't much to look at during the drive. Houses and trees surrounded the lake. Although it didn't take long to sightsee, the sun was sinking to the horizon by the time they'd reached Bantam Road. But they'd arrived at a string of businesses and parked next to a long, narrow, brick building.

  "Hey," Adam said, cutting the engine. "It's a bakery."

  Conner peered out the window. "Yeah, it looks like the pastry café back home." He opened the back-passenger door. "Not much nightlife going on, huh?"

  "It's a tourist spot," Trevor said. "I bet there's even less people around when summer's over."

  Jared scooted across the back seat and then joined Conner on the sidewalk. "Looks like they're getting ready to close soon." He glanced back at Adam. "If you really wanna get something, we better hurry."

  Conner studied the dark, cloudy sky, searching for the moon. "Let's get something, and then we can go back to the cabin."

  "Boring!" Adam locked the SUV and walked toward the bakery. "What are we gonna do back there?"

  "Who cares?" Trevor draped his arm across Adam's shoulders. "It's the four of us. We don't have anything or anyone to worry about."

  They strutted into the bakery like the popular star athletes that they were in Newman. Carefree. Confident. They scanned the selection of cookies, pastries, and fancy small desserts. A young man appeared, obviously anxious to serve the last customers of the night.

  "Man, look at these." Adam pointed at a variety of doughnuts. "We gotta get extra to take back to the cabin."

  Huddled together, the four chose their treats in excited fashion.

  "Two coconut and two cinnamon," Conner said.

  "Lemon, chocolate, coconut, and jelly," Adam said. "And I want that cinnamon roll too."

  Jared asked, "Should we get something for your parents?"

  "Would be nice, I guess."

  Minutes later, they each stepped outside with a coffee and a bag of sugary snacks.

  Trevor laughed. "We just spent fifty bucks on doughnuts."

  "Not all doughnuts," Adam replied. "Jared got cookies."

  Two pretty girls, who appeared to be college-aged, strolled in their direction. Both wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a smile on the warm evening. As the girls advanced toward them, Adam was the first to nonchalantly step closer to the sidewalk, as if simply mu
nching on his cinnamon doughnut and unaware of the girls.

  Slowing their steps, the darker-haired girl said, "Looks like you're really enjoying that."

  Adam offered a wide, pearly-white-toothed grin. "This? It's pretty good, all right."

  "My mom gets stuff here all the time. Everything's good."

  The girl with light-brown hair agreed. "You guys renting a house on the lake?"

  "Yeah." He motioned for his buddies to approach. "We'll be here the whole week."

  "There's not much to do," the dark-haired girl said. "We've lived here our whole life. Trust us, we know."

  "We've been here two days," Conner said. "And we already know."

  The girls laughed.

  "What's fun around here?" Jared asked.

  "You have to make the fun," the second girl said. She extended her hand. "My name is Gwen. And this is my cousin Sam."

  The guys introduced themselves.

  "There's a party," Sam said. "If you're interested."

  Trevor asked, "What kind of party?"

  "Just a bunch of us hanging out."

  "Where?"

  "Well, hardly anyone is twenty-one, so we get together at a spot off the lake."

  "Like, in a field?" Jared asked.

  Gwen giggled. "It's embarrassing, we know. But when there's not a lot to do around here, you end up hanging out with friends in a field to have a good time."

  "Tell us how to get there," Adam said. "Maybe we'll show up."

  "If you do," Sam said, "make sure you look for us."

  "Why wouldn't we?" Conner asked.

  Sam chuckled. "I mean, you're not from here. And you guys will definitely stand out compared to the guys that live around the lake. They might think you're crashing the fun."

  "Stand out how?"

  "Your nice-looking clothes. Your muscles."

  "And good-looking," Gwen added. "The guys around here don't look like you. They'll be jealous if the girls pay attention to you."

  "We can handle it," Adam said. "A bunch of Bantam boys aren't gonna scare us off."

  Sam waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, please. I can't imagine any of them actually trying to fight. They might say something, but I doubt any of them would do anything."