The Babysitter. Nancy Bush
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“Let’s do it,” said Robbie Padilla.
“I’m in,” Mark Norquist agreed, and Tim Merchel, Cooper’s closest friend, said the same.
It was decided that fast. Race said he had to get things settled at the party and then they would all coordinate at the Ryersons’. Dug, as ever, stayed with Race, and the rest of them were supposed to catch up with them later.
Cooper tried to talk Tim out of it. “Let’s not go. Video games at my house,” he tried to entice his friend.
“Are you kidding? It’s almost Halloween. Let’s get some pumpkins. Line ’em all up at the house. Ring the bell. Give her a scare.”
“She’s babysitting. There are kids there.”
“They’re probably already in bed. What’s the matter? You still hung up on her?”
“It was never like that between us.”
Tim smirked. “Race wants it to be that way with them. He’s planning to pop her cherry.”
Rarely had Cooper ever even noticed that kind of crude talk among his friends, but when it was directed toward Emma, it made him uncomfortable. “Well, he’s not gonna do it.”
“Why? You got there first?”
“Shut up, man.”
Tim cackled. “Oh, that’s right. She’s moved on to college guys. We’re all too immature for her.”
“Why’re you getting on Emma?”
“Chill, dude. I’m just yanking your chain.”
Cooper’d let it go then. Clearly, Tim, and probably all the guys, knew of his feelings, whether he thought he was hiding them or not.
Tim drove Cooper, Mark, and Robbie, and soon enough they met up with Race and Dug about three blocks from the Ryerson home.
“Have you seen Emma’s sister?” Robbie asked. He was the shortest guy in the group, but he worked out and had strong biceps he loved to show off. He also was proud of the facial hair he could grow and was currently sporting a dark, Fu Manchu mustache. “She’s just as pretty.”
“And younger. Maybe you have a chance with her, Haynes.” Tim grinned at him. Tim had sandy blond hair he wore long.
Cooper smiled and said, “Maybe.” It had been a bold move to invite her to the party but cute girls were always welcome and Jamie Whelan was definitely cute.
“I’d do her,” said Mark, but then, he could hardly keep from showing how horny he was all the time. Hugging and touching girls was all he wanted to do. Race had told him to knock it off, going so far as to suggest he step up his masturbation and give the girls at River Glen a break. Robbie had confided to Cooper that all Mark did was watch porn, which had made Cooper wonder if advising more masturbation was really the answer.
The six boys got to the Ryerson house and started tapping on the windows, sawing one that was partially open back and forth, which made wonderful, creaking sounds. They rolled the plastic garbage can at the side of the house along a rough stone path, and Tim made a low, moaning sound that could almost have been the wind had there been any that night. Robbie had a Michael Myers mask from the film Halloween that he jammed over his head before running onto the porch with a couple of pumpkins, which he set down in front of the door before ringing the doorbell. He was jumping down the porch stairs, planning to stand at the end of the front walk and stare back at Emma in a menacing way while Dug, who’d left the rest of them hiding behind a laurel hedge, was tapping on the front windows. But Emma, true to form, boldly threw open the door and stepped onto the front porch, not giving Dug time to hide as he half-stumbled, half-fell off the porch.
“Okay, Race. Dug. Time to go back to fourth grade where you belong!” Emma’s voice rang out.
“Shit,” Tim whispered beneath his breath from their hiding place.
“Shhh,” said Robbie.
“Man, she’s got boobs,” said Mark.
Dug and Race, who’d both stumbled and run out of Emma’s sight in opposite directions, circled around to meet the others behind the laurel hedge.
Once together again, Robbie said, “We should go.”
“Don’t be a pussy,” said Dug. Though he was speaking to Robbie, he threw a look toward Race, trying to read his friend’s mood.
“I’m not a pussy,” Robbie declared.
“Shut up.” Race was glaring intently at the Ryersons’ front door. “It’s still cracked open.”
“Did she forget to close it?” Cooper asked.
“Nah. . . . She’s waiting for us to come back.” Race’s face was set.
“You think she’s got one of those water bazookas that really shoot out?” Tim asked. “She could be lying in wait.”
“We should’ve thought of that!” Mark moved closer, seeking a better view of the door. “I’d like to see her in a wet T-shirt.”
“Fucking pervert,” Race snapped, and Mark shrugged and pulled back.
After a whispered consultation, they decided to try a few more things. They even went so far as to throw pebbles at the house, but Cooper told them to cut it out. He didn’t want to break a window. He’d gone along with them because he’d hoped to see Emma, but the whole thing had grown dumber by the minute, and now she was on to them. When they realized the front door was fully shut, they realized Emma had given up the game. Everyone decided to leave except Dug, who never knew when to give up. Cooper tried to talk Dug into coming in his car, but Dug wouldn’t listen. Irked, Race assured Cooper that he’d get Dug to leave before Emma did something stupid like call the police. Cooper ended up dropping Tim, Mark, and Robbie back at the party, then went back into town, cruising past the Ryersons’ again to see if Race really had picked up Dug like he’d said he would. The street was entirely quiet as he drove by the house. The living room light was still on, the bedrooms dark. He turned around at the end of the block and took one more pass by. No sign of Emma, and no sign of Dug. He went home, never dreaming what was about to come down.
As soon as they learned about the attack, Cooper and all his friends had admitted to what they’d done at the time, pranking Emma, but none of them had seen anything. They’d left before the attack happened. They were all, to a one, full of rage over what had befallen Emma, and had expected quick answers and justice. Some sick, pervert needed to be caught and thrown behind bars.
But then the investigation had stalled.
And then it became clear that Emma wasn’t going to recover completely.
Cooper was consumed with guilt. His friends, not so much. They were all just relieved they weren’t considered persons of interest. For his part, Cooper haunted the police department. It killed him,