It was Tuesday 4PM in the Poco Mesa Junior High School principal’s office. The Principal, Dr. Ruth Gordon, was shaking her head, feeling like she’d just beem steamrolled.
Isabel Evans, reigning leader of the Poco Mesa Junior High School Ice Princess Posse had never expressed any interest in student government, school sports, student organizations, school plays, school dances, or school activities of much of any kind. When Isabel asked for a meeting the principal would never have guessed it was about organizing another student dance.
Before she could get out of her mouth that there really wasn’t money for it in the budget that nice Ms Graves from the counseling center had been all over her about the problems she saw from unsupervised raves, and Officer Daniels was saying the same thing and offering to donate her services for security and Isabel talked about volunteers lined up for the decorating and…….she just felt like she was being overwhelmed.
She’d tried to resist, but then Isabel had hit her with the final idea…….a Sadie Hawkins dance. ‘Why should the guys always get to invite the girls, wasn’t it only fair to have just one dance where the girls got to do the inviting?’ she’d asked.
Dr. Gordon had looked out to her parking lot, looked at the fading Equal Rights Amendment bumper sticker that was slowly peeling off the rear bumper on her car, and said to herself, ‘Well that’s right. That’s only fair’.
It really wouldn’t cost that much if the decorating committee put up and took down their stuff. The PTA would toss in the money for some cake and punch, the custodians overtime wouldn’t be all that much. What the heck, they spent money on a lot of less worthy causes.
But she would have never believed until today that Isabel Evans would have gotten this involved in any school function.
And where did she come up with the Sadie Hawkins dance idea. She was only thirteen. Al Capp had died before she was even born, and there hadn’t seen a Li’l Abner cartoon strip in the town paper in decades.
Sock hop (M/L Mature) complete
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Tuesday dinnertime with the Parker family was the best it had been in a week. The parents were starting to believe that Lizzy might have turned a corner over the weekend. They were still worried, really worried, but the tension level had dropped off considerably.
Until dessert, that was. Lizzy had looked up at her parents and seemed hesitant, like she really didn’t know how to say something. Then she’d dropped the bomb.
“Mom, Dad, I know that I’m grounded and everything, and I don’t blame you for that, but remember how Grandma Claudia always used to tell me about Dogpatch and Shmoos and Sadie Hawkins and everything? Well they are having a Sadie Hawkins Dance at school Friday night, and I wanted to triple date with Maria and Isabelle. I was going to ask Isabel’s brother…, he’s kind of shy, like me, and he’s never had a date either. Izzie said her mother will take us there, and it’ll be over by ten. Izzie and Maria were going to come back here for another sleepover then. I know I deserve to be punished, but somehow…..well I’m just afraid if I can’t bring myself to do this, I’m just never going to get over what happened to me.”
A panicky Jeff Parker stalled for time. “Well Lizzy, let us think about this for a little bit.”
Lizzy hadn’t been back in her room 10 minutes before a scared Jeff and Nancy Parker were on a conference call with the assault counselor, Ms Graves.
Until dessert, that was. Lizzy had looked up at her parents and seemed hesitant, like she really didn’t know how to say something. Then she’d dropped the bomb.
“Mom, Dad, I know that I’m grounded and everything, and I don’t blame you for that, but remember how Grandma Claudia always used to tell me about Dogpatch and Shmoos and Sadie Hawkins and everything? Well they are having a Sadie Hawkins Dance at school Friday night, and I wanted to triple date with Maria and Isabelle. I was going to ask Isabel’s brother…, he’s kind of shy, like me, and he’s never had a date either. Izzie said her mother will take us there, and it’ll be over by ten. Izzie and Maria were going to come back here for another sleepover then. I know I deserve to be punished, but somehow…..well I’m just afraid if I can’t bring myself to do this, I’m just never going to get over what happened to me.”
A panicky Jeff Parker stalled for time. “Well Lizzy, let us think about this for a little bit.”
Lizzy hadn’t been back in her room 10 minutes before a scared Jeff and Nancy Parker were on a conference call with the assault counselor, Ms Graves.
Lizzy hadn’t been back in her room 10 minutes before a scared Jeff and Nancy Parker were on a conference call with the assault counselor, Ms Graves.
They listened on the speaker phone, the volume turned down so Lizzy couldn’t hear as the counselor responded to their question.
“A triple date with her two girlfriends and their dates? With a boy in her class who has never dated before and is shy? And one of her friends is the boy’s sister? To a school function that’s going to be well supervised? And she’s taking the initiative to ask him? Well Mr. and Mrs. Parker, if you’d asked me what would be the best way in the world for her to get back to normal with safe baby-steps along the way, this would be it. I really don’t think that’s an opportunity you would want her to miss.”
As she said that Ms Graves marveled to herself at the coincidences in the world. She’d talked about almost exactly the same scenario to that young girl doing the career day research only one day ago.
After a brief husband-wife conference the couple went up to Lizzy’s room to tell her that, while they still were upset with her for what she’d done, they realized that Sadie Hawkins dances didn’t come along all the time, and that, just for that one night, her three months grounding would be suspended.
They went back downstairs hoping they’d done the right thing.
They listened on the speaker phone, the volume turned down so Lizzy couldn’t hear as the counselor responded to their question.
“A triple date with her two girlfriends and their dates? With a boy in her class who has never dated before and is shy? And one of her friends is the boy’s sister? To a school function that’s going to be well supervised? And she’s taking the initiative to ask him? Well Mr. and Mrs. Parker, if you’d asked me what would be the best way in the world for her to get back to normal with safe baby-steps along the way, this would be it. I really don’t think that’s an opportunity you would want her to miss.”
As she said that Ms Graves marveled to herself at the coincidences in the world. She’d talked about almost exactly the same scenario to that young girl doing the career day research only one day ago.
After a brief husband-wife conference the couple went up to Lizzy’s room to tell her that, while they still were upset with her for what she’d done, they realized that Sadie Hawkins dances didn’t come along all the time, and that, just for that one night, her three months grounding would be suspended.
They went back downstairs hoping they’d done the right thing.
It was Thursday at noon and Liz couldn’t believe how she looked in the mirror of the girl’s restroom. Nobody did makeup and hair as well as Izzie, and she and Maria had just spent a half hour working her over. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever been quite this nervous. ‘Well, it’s show time…’ she thought, as she walked into the lunchroom.
Max was sitting by himself in the farthest corner of the lunchroom. He’d been thinking a lot the past week. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever really forgive Izzie for what she’d done, but she was family, not just his sister but one of only three people in the world who really understood him. He just wished that she had understood about how he felt about Liz.
But maybe she was right, at least in one respect. She’d always told him that he shouldn’t get too close, that no matter how much he and Liz might get along as friends, if they ever got close enough, Liz would eventually find out about the secret. And he knew that was true.
Liz had been his friend for most of his life, at least most of the life he remembered post pod. He couldn’t really believe what Izzy had said about her maybe turning them in to the Sheriff or FBI or Air Force or something. He’d never really believed Liz would do that.
But what he really wanted was to be her boyfriend, and he knew that would have been hard enough, after how he’d failed her, after what he’d let happen to her, without the added issue of …the secret.
And nothing could change that secret. Even if she could somehow find it in her heart to forgive Max for letting that happen to her, to say to just say ‘to err is human’, ..well, that really didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t. Wasn’t human that is. Or at least, not all human.
The fact of the matter was that neither he nor Michael nor Izzie really knew what they were, or why they were here. Were they orphan alien kids? Were they some alien-human cloning experiment? Were they supposed to be the vanguard of some space invasion gone awry? They didn’t know themselves.
So even if Liz by some miracle would forgive the terrible thing he let happen to her, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because she’d never want to buy in to that mess. And he didn’t blame her.
He was glad that she was still in school though. Maybe someday, in a few years, it could go back to being like it was, friends, lab partners that could look one another in the eye, he hoped so. Because even though he figured Izzie was right, he could never really have Liz, he was happier when she was around.
Max was staring at the floor when he saw the pair of girls shoes walking up to him. He was all by himself in the corner, and they walked right towards him. It was an empty table, sure, but those shoes were walking by plenty of other other empty tables to come towards him.
Finally certain that his pity party was about to be interrupted by someone he looked up from the shoes to the face of the person who wore them.
Omigod, it was Liz.
Max was sitting by himself in the farthest corner of the lunchroom. He’d been thinking a lot the past week. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever really forgive Izzie for what she’d done, but she was family, not just his sister but one of only three people in the world who really understood him. He just wished that she had understood about how he felt about Liz.
But maybe she was right, at least in one respect. She’d always told him that he shouldn’t get too close, that no matter how much he and Liz might get along as friends, if they ever got close enough, Liz would eventually find out about the secret. And he knew that was true.
Liz had been his friend for most of his life, at least most of the life he remembered post pod. He couldn’t really believe what Izzy had said about her maybe turning them in to the Sheriff or FBI or Air Force or something. He’d never really believed Liz would do that.
But what he really wanted was to be her boyfriend, and he knew that would have been hard enough, after how he’d failed her, after what he’d let happen to her, without the added issue of …the secret.
And nothing could change that secret. Even if she could somehow find it in her heart to forgive Max for letting that happen to her, to say to just say ‘to err is human’, ..well, that really didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t. Wasn’t human that is. Or at least, not all human.
The fact of the matter was that neither he nor Michael nor Izzie really knew what they were, or why they were here. Were they orphan alien kids? Were they some alien-human cloning experiment? Were they supposed to be the vanguard of some space invasion gone awry? They didn’t know themselves.
So even if Liz by some miracle would forgive the terrible thing he let happen to her, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because she’d never want to buy in to that mess. And he didn’t blame her.
He was glad that she was still in school though. Maybe someday, in a few years, it could go back to being like it was, friends, lab partners that could look one another in the eye, he hoped so. Because even though he figured Izzie was right, he could never really have Liz, he was happier when she was around.
Max was staring at the floor when he saw the pair of girls shoes walking up to him. He was all by himself in the corner, and they walked right towards him. It was an empty table, sure, but those shoes were walking by plenty of other other empty tables to come towards him.
Finally certain that his pity party was about to be interrupted by someone he looked up from the shoes to the face of the person who wore them.
Omigod, it was Liz.
Wow, was it ever Liz! Max had fallen in love with Liz when he stepped off the bus in third grade. She’d just been a skinny kid. He’d loved her when she skinned her knee playing dodge ball in fifth grade with dust from a desert playground ground into her clothes. And he loved her in an old lab coat and safety goggles in Science class. He rarely noticed her clothes, it was her pleasant smile and her sweet character he loved. He had always considered her beautiful, but today….WOW.
As she walked up to him he thought she’d never looked more beautiful, and what was that scent? It smelled like that ylang-ylang oil stuff Isabel used for special occasions.
As he looked at her he thought of Sisyphus, condemned by the gods to roll a rock up the hill for all eternity, only to reach the top and watch it roll down again. She was exquisite, she was eternally desirable, and she could never be his. They were too …different, and always would be.
Like Sisyphus, the gods were tormenting Max Evans.
Liz had a hard time looking Max in the face as she walked up to his table. This was sooo scary. “Max….”
“Yes Liz.”
“Did you hear about the Sadie Hawkins Dance this Friday?”
‘Sadie Hawkins dance? What the heck was a Sadie Hawkins dance?’ “Uh, no Liz, I don’t think so. What’s a Sadie Hawkins dance.?”
“My Grandma Claudia used to tell me about it. There was this newspaper cartoon about a place called Dogpatch. One day a year there’d be a race and all the unmarried men would be chased by all the unmarried women. Whoever they caught they would get to marry. A Sadie Hawkins dance is sort of like that, only the girls get to ask the boys to be their dates, instead of the other way around.”
Max noticed Liz getting kind of red in the face. He thought he understood that. Suddenly it seemed quite warm in the lunchroom. Perhaps the air conditioning had failed. Someone ought to fix that. Maybe he should go tell a custodian.
“Oh, that’s a Sadie Hawkins dance, huh? Thanks for telling me, Liz. I never heard about that before.”
“Max..?”
“Yes, Liz?”
“I’m inviting you to be my date to the Sadie Hawkins dance Friday night.”
As she walked up to him he thought she’d never looked more beautiful, and what was that scent? It smelled like that ylang-ylang oil stuff Isabel used for special occasions.
As he looked at her he thought of Sisyphus, condemned by the gods to roll a rock up the hill for all eternity, only to reach the top and watch it roll down again. She was exquisite, she was eternally desirable, and she could never be his. They were too …different, and always would be.
Like Sisyphus, the gods were tormenting Max Evans.
Liz had a hard time looking Max in the face as she walked up to his table. This was sooo scary. “Max….”
“Yes Liz.”
“Did you hear about the Sadie Hawkins Dance this Friday?”
‘Sadie Hawkins dance? What the heck was a Sadie Hawkins dance?’ “Uh, no Liz, I don’t think so. What’s a Sadie Hawkins dance.?”
“My Grandma Claudia used to tell me about it. There was this newspaper cartoon about a place called Dogpatch. One day a year there’d be a race and all the unmarried men would be chased by all the unmarried women. Whoever they caught they would get to marry. A Sadie Hawkins dance is sort of like that, only the girls get to ask the boys to be their dates, instead of the other way around.”
Max noticed Liz getting kind of red in the face. He thought he understood that. Suddenly it seemed quite warm in the lunchroom. Perhaps the air conditioning had failed. Someone ought to fix that. Maybe he should go tell a custodian.
“Oh, that’s a Sadie Hawkins dance, huh? Thanks for telling me, Liz. I never heard about that before.”
“Max..?”
“Yes, Liz?”
“I’m inviting you to be my date to the Sadie Hawkins dance Friday night.”
Max felt kind of trapped. He still felt that he couldn’t ever have a relationship with Liz, but …….what could he do? She was feeling so vulnerable, she had almost just left for the East Coast. If he said no, what would happen?
He would never forgive himself for what had happened to her the night of the last dance. How could he risk upsetting her again? He couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t turn her down either.
Quickly he thought of a plan. He’d accept one date. He’d go, but he’d be kind of….bland. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to anger her, but if he could just be kind of…uninteresting, she wouldn’t really care that there would never be a second date.
But maybe they could still wind up friends. And he could beat the torment of the gods, at least to some extent. Although they’d never be a couple again after Friday night, he’d have that one memory of her to cherish for the rest of his lonely life. And he knew in his heart, he’d be grateful even for that.
“Sure Liz. I’ll go with you.”
He would never forgive himself for what had happened to her the night of the last dance. How could he risk upsetting her again? He couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t turn her down either.
Quickly he thought of a plan. He’d accept one date. He’d go, but he’d be kind of….bland. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to anger her, but if he could just be kind of…uninteresting, she wouldn’t really care that there would never be a second date.
But maybe they could still wind up friends. And he could beat the torment of the gods, at least to some extent. Although they’d never be a couple again after Friday night, he’d have that one memory of her to cherish for the rest of his lonely life. And he knew in his heart, he’d be grateful even for that.
“Sure Liz. I’ll go with you.”
It was Friday evening and Principal Gordon was amazed at the appearance of the school gymnasium. That Isabel Evans was sure a great organizer. The whole place had a Dogpatch theme, with hay bales that had been loaned to them by the local feed and grain store for the night. The art classes had been drafted to come up with posters of Dogpatch characters, and the home economics sewing class had made several dozen stuffed Shmoos. The bunting was…toilet paper, it appeared, although she had no idea where you could get toilet paper in those colors. The Crashdown and a couple of other restaurants were donating snacks and punch. Officer Daniels was going to be there in 30 minutes. The PA system was plugged in and the volunteer disc jockey from the West Roswell High School FM radio station was ready to go. This was all going to work.
“Thanks Mrs. Evans, for providing the transportation,” said Maria DeLuca as the minivan pulled up to the trailer court. ‘Well, there he was,' she thought. Izzie had talked her in to asking him, a “diamond in the rough,” she’d called him. Maria was reasonably sure that Izzie had also intimidated him into saying yes. They needed six people for a triple date, and she was reasonably sure that Isabel had drafted Michael. 'He was really kind of cute, but what was with the hair?' He really looked apprehensive about this. Izzie said he wasn’t really good in social situations, because of his many foster homes and current jerk foster father. 'Like a lost kitten in the rain,' she thought, as she moved over to let him sit beside her.
“Yeah Mom, thanks,” said Isabel Evans, looking slightly flushed. She looked at Alex Whitman out of the corner of her eye. Alex had been kind of a guilty pleasure for her for almost 4 months. She had believed that she would really never have a social life, or any real friend other than Max and Michael, but she’d always wanted one. She’d dreamwalked most of the 13 year old boys at Poco Mesa Junior High School at one time or another, and had been a little bit appalled. Apparently 13 years old was a time of raging hormones for boys, and many of them would have dreams about girls that were just short of pornographic. As leader of the Ice Princess Posse, she found herself starring in a number of those dreams, roles that at least unnerved her, if not insulting her altogether.
Alex had been a lifetime friend of Maria and Liz, and his galpals had taught him well. It wasn’t that Alex wasn’t interested in girls, he certainly was. It’s just that his dreams about girls were more…..romantic, rather than…..well, let’s just say anatomical. And since she’d asked him to the dance, his dreams had been largely of Isabel Evans.
'Like last night,' she thought sweetly.
It had been Princess Isabel being saved by the knight in shining armor, Sir Alex. He’d fought and rescued her, and he hadn’t even gotten a kiss, just a lousy blue silk scarf to wear around his arm as he carried his lance. She felt bad about that, even as she realized it was foolish to do so, it had after all only been his dream.
'It wasn’t really fair though,' she thought. 'That had been one damn big dragon.'
As the car stopped at the Crashdown, Liz Parker was waiting nervously outside. “Uh, Max, my parents kind of want to meet you before I go out with you. Would you mind stepping inside?”
“Thanks Mrs. Evans, for providing the transportation,” said Maria DeLuca as the minivan pulled up to the trailer court. ‘Well, there he was,' she thought. Izzie had talked her in to asking him, a “diamond in the rough,” she’d called him. Maria was reasonably sure that Izzie had also intimidated him into saying yes. They needed six people for a triple date, and she was reasonably sure that Isabel had drafted Michael. 'He was really kind of cute, but what was with the hair?' He really looked apprehensive about this. Izzie said he wasn’t really good in social situations, because of his many foster homes and current jerk foster father. 'Like a lost kitten in the rain,' she thought, as she moved over to let him sit beside her.
“Yeah Mom, thanks,” said Isabel Evans, looking slightly flushed. She looked at Alex Whitman out of the corner of her eye. Alex had been kind of a guilty pleasure for her for almost 4 months. She had believed that she would really never have a social life, or any real friend other than Max and Michael, but she’d always wanted one. She’d dreamwalked most of the 13 year old boys at Poco Mesa Junior High School at one time or another, and had been a little bit appalled. Apparently 13 years old was a time of raging hormones for boys, and many of them would have dreams about girls that were just short of pornographic. As leader of the Ice Princess Posse, she found herself starring in a number of those dreams, roles that at least unnerved her, if not insulting her altogether.
Alex had been a lifetime friend of Maria and Liz, and his galpals had taught him well. It wasn’t that Alex wasn’t interested in girls, he certainly was. It’s just that his dreams about girls were more…..romantic, rather than…..well, let’s just say anatomical. And since she’d asked him to the dance, his dreams had been largely of Isabel Evans.
'Like last night,' she thought sweetly.
It had been Princess Isabel being saved by the knight in shining armor, Sir Alex. He’d fought and rescued her, and he hadn’t even gotten a kiss, just a lousy blue silk scarf to wear around his arm as he carried his lance. She felt bad about that, even as she realized it was foolish to do so, it had after all only been his dream.
'It wasn’t really fair though,' she thought. 'That had been one damn big dragon.'
As the car stopped at the Crashdown, Liz Parker was waiting nervously outside. “Uh, Max, my parents kind of want to meet you before I go out with you. Would you mind stepping inside?”
As her son talked to the young girl, Diane Evans looked at her intently. A week ago, Izzie appeared to have two new friends, and this was one of them. She thought about the differences in her two children. Izzie and Max were so different and always had been.
Izzie seemed to have bonded with her and Philip when they’d first brought the two children home. She’d cuddled up to them, and seemed content. She’d had a fair number of friendships over the years, although most were kind of superficial, much like the overdressed haughty crowd she’d run with until the last week or so. Maria, from what little she’d seen of her, seemed more real, more genuine, and her daughter’s friendship had seemed more genuine. Izzie had met Maria through Liz, apparently they were longtime best friends. Suddenly they were almost like the three Musketeers. She found herself hoping that Liz was like Maria, a real person, not a phoney persona to project before the world. But Izzie really wasn't her worry.
Max, on the other hand, had always worried her. He hadn’t really accepted it when he was brought to the Evans home. It was hard to understand what he really wanted, a six or seven year old who couldn’t even speak, but it was clear that he didn’t consider the Evans home to be ....., well, home. Whatever weird home had raised two children who couldn’t even speak, weren’t even potty-trained, was still “home” to Max, and the Evans home he regarded as something not-home, something alien.
She’d given young Max the toy house then, telling him it was a magic house, that if he held it, it would take him home. Somehow he seemed to understand, to be comforted by it. Max had slept with that house for nearly two years, while he learned English, while she caught both children up on their schooling. One of the happiest days of her life was when he had come to her, fresh off the bus, home from his first day of school, his first day of third grade. He had taken the toy house off the small table by his bed and given it to her. He had said, “Mommy, you can put this away in the closet now, because now this is my home.”
She watched as Max opened the door and accompanied her into the building, studying the young girl. She was small, a pretty girl, on the cusp of womanhood. She imagined that her face, in a few years, would break a lot of hearts. Izzie had explained that she and Max were…lab partners…..as if that explained everything. But it explained nothing, really. For almost two weeks Max had been so upset, so uncommunicative, so depressed, they’d tried to get him to see a counselor, and he wouldn’t. Izzie had tried everything and Max wouldn’t even speak to her.
Isabel had even enlisted Michael, the kid from the wrong side of the tracks they chummed with, apparently guilt stricken at being adopted kids having home and family when Michael had clearly gotten the worst the foster care system had to offer, with that old drunk Hank Guerin. But even Michael couldn't help.
Max was a shy kid, he had acquaintances, but really no other friends, but all of his friends and all of his family had not been enough to raise Max from his depression, his endless hours of laying in bed, listening to his music. If she never heard that song again, that Murder of One, it would be too soon.
But then, this petite woman child had asked him…to a Sadie Hawkins dance? And like a light had been switched on, it was “Mom, will you please take me and a date to the dance Friday night?” Granted, the Counting Crows hadn’t stopped, but the playing had been slowed noticeably and there were even a few other songs scattered in to the mix. He still looked daggers at Izzie, but even that might be mellowing some.
What strange power did this young raven haired girl have over Max, that her shy depressed son should suddenly respond to her, when he had responded to no one else?
Izzie seemed to have bonded with her and Philip when they’d first brought the two children home. She’d cuddled up to them, and seemed content. She’d had a fair number of friendships over the years, although most were kind of superficial, much like the overdressed haughty crowd she’d run with until the last week or so. Maria, from what little she’d seen of her, seemed more real, more genuine, and her daughter’s friendship had seemed more genuine. Izzie had met Maria through Liz, apparently they were longtime best friends. Suddenly they were almost like the three Musketeers. She found herself hoping that Liz was like Maria, a real person, not a phoney persona to project before the world. But Izzie really wasn't her worry.
Max, on the other hand, had always worried her. He hadn’t really accepted it when he was brought to the Evans home. It was hard to understand what he really wanted, a six or seven year old who couldn’t even speak, but it was clear that he didn’t consider the Evans home to be ....., well, home. Whatever weird home had raised two children who couldn’t even speak, weren’t even potty-trained, was still “home” to Max, and the Evans home he regarded as something not-home, something alien.
She’d given young Max the toy house then, telling him it was a magic house, that if he held it, it would take him home. Somehow he seemed to understand, to be comforted by it. Max had slept with that house for nearly two years, while he learned English, while she caught both children up on their schooling. One of the happiest days of her life was when he had come to her, fresh off the bus, home from his first day of school, his first day of third grade. He had taken the toy house off the small table by his bed and given it to her. He had said, “Mommy, you can put this away in the closet now, because now this is my home.”
She watched as Max opened the door and accompanied her into the building, studying the young girl. She was small, a pretty girl, on the cusp of womanhood. She imagined that her face, in a few years, would break a lot of hearts. Izzie had explained that she and Max were…lab partners…..as if that explained everything. But it explained nothing, really. For almost two weeks Max had been so upset, so uncommunicative, so depressed, they’d tried to get him to see a counselor, and he wouldn’t. Izzie had tried everything and Max wouldn’t even speak to her.
Isabel had even enlisted Michael, the kid from the wrong side of the tracks they chummed with, apparently guilt stricken at being adopted kids having home and family when Michael had clearly gotten the worst the foster care system had to offer, with that old drunk Hank Guerin. But even Michael couldn't help.
Max was a shy kid, he had acquaintances, but really no other friends, but all of his friends and all of his family had not been enough to raise Max from his depression, his endless hours of laying in bed, listening to his music. If she never heard that song again, that Murder of One, it would be too soon.
But then, this petite woman child had asked him…to a Sadie Hawkins dance? And like a light had been switched on, it was “Mom, will you please take me and a date to the dance Friday night?” Granted, the Counting Crows hadn’t stopped, but the playing had been slowed noticeably and there were even a few other songs scattered in to the mix. He still looked daggers at Izzie, but even that might be mellowing some.
What strange power did this young raven haired girl have over Max, that her shy depressed son should suddenly respond to her, when he had responded to no one else?
Liz watched with growing fear as Max went up the stairs into their living room. She had been apprehensive for the last two days, waiting for this night, but not so apprehensive she hadn’t noticed that her parents were also more and more worried as the time approached. She had tried to call Max to warn him about this, to try to reassure him somehow, but her father had sprung it on her only in the last 15 minutes. As the fifth ring sent her to the Evans answering machine she had hung up. They’d obviously already left. She watched as he faced her father, shaking his hand. She was praying this didn’t go as badly as she feared it might.
Had Jeff Parker asked Ms. Graves about this, she’d have likely advised against it. Lizzy’s baby-steps to normalcy, she would have reasoned, would not be helped by such tangible evidence of her parent’s fears. But the fears were there, the fears had grown hourly as this time approached, the fears driven by the memory of how he had failed her only two weeks ago, how his baby had come to be drugged, helpless, and at the mercy of those three monsters. Only the words of the doctor and the sheriff had let him start to forgive himself for his failing her that terrible night. If a father’s rage and fear for his daughter had been enough to destroy those three that night, he certainly would have done no less than the “guardian angel” had done to them, but even her rescue left him frightened and fearful for her, that apparently for hours she had been drugged and helpless, in the arms of someone so powerful, someone who he didn’t know, someone who could have done anything to her then, some stranger who could not possibly love and care for her as he did, as they did.
While his head may have told him that he should be making this easier for his daughter, his heart told him otherwise as the guilt was still there. Two weeks ago his daughter had been drugged and assaulted and he and Nancy had endured the worst ten days of their lives. He was pleased that she was making progress, but that couldn’t undo the terrors he had experienced during that time. Whatever his head may have told him his heart told him that he must not only see this young man, not only assess for himself the quality of his character, but must impress him with his responsibility to respect his daughter, to guard her safety from the moment he took her away from their door until the moment he returned her safely to their arms.
Any teenage girl would have been mortified to watch as her father interrogated her date, but Liz understood the demons that drove Jeff Parker to lecture Max Evans. The guilt of her parents over what had happened two weeks ago had been a palpable presence in this house for the last 13 days. And that guilt had resonated in Liz Parker for the last five days. It had been easy to pretend, when she went to the party with Pam and her sister, that it had been somehow Max’s fault, or Izzie’s fault, but like her they were just thirteen year old kids. She and Max were probably the two shyest kids in their class, and he certainly hadn’t been obligated to ask her out. And for the last week she’d known that Max’s justification for being a shy kid certainly exceeded hers. And Izzie’s actions, had never ever been about hurting Liz Parker, but about protecting her brother.
Her father’s only failing, she decided, was trusting his daughter, trusting that she wouldn’t go off with lowlife’s like Pam and her sister, trusting that she wouldn’t go to a rave and grab a beer at the door, rebelling against the world because something hadn’t gone her way.
It was she, Liz knew, that should feel guilt about that night. No, she hadn’t wanted it to happen, but her stupidity and immaturity that night had let it happen, and she had brought suffering on her parents and herself, her friends, even Izzie and Max who owed her nothing but had risked exposure, risked their very lives to rescue and care for her.
But that wasn’t the way her father saw it, she knew. If her mother’s job was to nurture her, his he believed, was to protect her, and he’d failed in that job.
And while she couldn’t blame her father for what he was doing, what he was saying to Max, driven by that guilt, how she wished he weren’t doing what he was doing, saying what he was saying. Because as she saw the guilt he felt forcing those words out of Jeff Parker she winced as she knew the effect they were having on Max Evans. For Izzie was right, she could tell that every word, every caution, everything her father was saying, was feeding into Max’s own guilt about that night, his feeling that he should have been there with her at the dance, should have been there sooner at the rave.
Two men, both believing themselves protectors, and the guilt of the one was stoking the guilt of the other. Liz watched as the big brown eyes glistened with the threat of tears. It was so unfair, so ironic. Max had saved her from the three, saved her from her own stupidity, but every word her father was saying was like an arrow piercing to Max’s very soul. She would have given anything to spare Max this moment. Anything at all.
Had Jeff Parker asked Ms. Graves about this, she’d have likely advised against it. Lizzy’s baby-steps to normalcy, she would have reasoned, would not be helped by such tangible evidence of her parent’s fears. But the fears were there, the fears had grown hourly as this time approached, the fears driven by the memory of how he had failed her only two weeks ago, how his baby had come to be drugged, helpless, and at the mercy of those three monsters. Only the words of the doctor and the sheriff had let him start to forgive himself for his failing her that terrible night. If a father’s rage and fear for his daughter had been enough to destroy those three that night, he certainly would have done no less than the “guardian angel” had done to them, but even her rescue left him frightened and fearful for her, that apparently for hours she had been drugged and helpless, in the arms of someone so powerful, someone who he didn’t know, someone who could have done anything to her then, some stranger who could not possibly love and care for her as he did, as they did.
While his head may have told him that he should be making this easier for his daughter, his heart told him otherwise as the guilt was still there. Two weeks ago his daughter had been drugged and assaulted and he and Nancy had endured the worst ten days of their lives. He was pleased that she was making progress, but that couldn’t undo the terrors he had experienced during that time. Whatever his head may have told him his heart told him that he must not only see this young man, not only assess for himself the quality of his character, but must impress him with his responsibility to respect his daughter, to guard her safety from the moment he took her away from their door until the moment he returned her safely to their arms.
Any teenage girl would have been mortified to watch as her father interrogated her date, but Liz understood the demons that drove Jeff Parker to lecture Max Evans. The guilt of her parents over what had happened two weeks ago had been a palpable presence in this house for the last 13 days. And that guilt had resonated in Liz Parker for the last five days. It had been easy to pretend, when she went to the party with Pam and her sister, that it had been somehow Max’s fault, or Izzie’s fault, but like her they were just thirteen year old kids. She and Max were probably the two shyest kids in their class, and he certainly hadn’t been obligated to ask her out. And for the last week she’d known that Max’s justification for being a shy kid certainly exceeded hers. And Izzie’s actions, had never ever been about hurting Liz Parker, but about protecting her brother.
Her father’s only failing, she decided, was trusting his daughter, trusting that she wouldn’t go off with lowlife’s like Pam and her sister, trusting that she wouldn’t go to a rave and grab a beer at the door, rebelling against the world because something hadn’t gone her way.
It was she, Liz knew, that should feel guilt about that night. No, she hadn’t wanted it to happen, but her stupidity and immaturity that night had let it happen, and she had brought suffering on her parents and herself, her friends, even Izzie and Max who owed her nothing but had risked exposure, risked their very lives to rescue and care for her.
But that wasn’t the way her father saw it, she knew. If her mother’s job was to nurture her, his he believed, was to protect her, and he’d failed in that job.
And while she couldn’t blame her father for what he was doing, what he was saying to Max, driven by that guilt, how she wished he weren’t doing what he was doing, saying what he was saying. Because as she saw the guilt he felt forcing those words out of Jeff Parker she winced as she knew the effect they were having on Max Evans. For Izzie was right, she could tell that every word, every caution, everything her father was saying, was feeding into Max’s own guilt about that night, his feeling that he should have been there with her at the dance, should have been there sooner at the rave.
Two men, both believing themselves protectors, and the guilt of the one was stoking the guilt of the other. Liz watched as the big brown eyes glistened with the threat of tears. It was so unfair, so ironic. Max had saved her from the three, saved her from her own stupidity, but every word her father was saying was like an arrow piercing to Max’s very soul. She would have given anything to spare Max this moment. Anything at all.
He’d watched her enter the Crashdown with the young kid and hung around outside wondering if that was really her. As the kid held the door open for her and she came back out on the sidewalk he looked at her again. That was her alright. Debbie’s little sister Pam had shown him her picture in their sixth grade class photo. The girl who….liked football players.
'Well I'm a football player,' he thought, 'and she was a fox.'
He took several steps to place himself between her and the minivan in the parking lot, while mentally reviewing his not very extensive library of pick-up lines. Number three he decided, ‘Hey babe, that’s a nice outfit! You know what would look even better draped over your body….? Me '
Yes, that was the one alright. Both of the others lacked subtlety. Oh, they’d worked well enough on Debbie Troy, and her little sister Pam, too. But something told him this little gal was a class above the Troy sisters, likely several.
As he turned to face her he thought to himself with amusement, ‘Funny, I never before thought of using “class” and the Troy sisters in the same sentence'.
As she approached he couldn’t help but leer, undressing her with his eyes, already convinced that she’d be overawed by his age and experience. He was surprised to see the young kid who’d held the door open somehow get in front of her. Surprised to see the kid close upon him and look up at him.
Those big brown eyes had looked kind of girlish as the boy had passed him when the two had gone together into the building. But there certainly was nothing sissy about them now as they looked up at Frank Gilman, second string defensive tackle for the Harrington High School Lobos. Momentarily they flashed golden, probably a trick of light from the setting New Mexico sun, he thought.
Suddenly the hair on the back of Frank’s neck stood up as those eyes communicated some primal message, past his conscious mind, way down to the teenager’s midbrain, to the ancient part of the brain that existed before there had even been human self awareness.
Frank sputtered, “Oh…sorry, Wasn’t watching where I was going....my bad!,” and stepped aside, away from the young couple.
As the two went by and entered the minivan the evening desert wind blew a soft gust down the streets of Roswell New Mexico, or that’s what the conscious mind of Frank Gilman told him. Deep in his subconscious mind, his midbrain knew differently. The breeze was from the wings of the angel of death, which had hovered briefly and then passed over Frank Gilman.
As he walked away, his body sweating despite the cool night breeze Frank wondered why that small kid's gaze had affected him like that. The kid hadn’t said anything, and he had at least 70 pounds weight and 6 inches more height than that kid. Not to mention being years older.
‘Well,’ he thought as he wandered away all alone on a Friday night, ‘I'm not going to get lucky tonight. Too bad the Troy sisters are both grounded. Neither of them was a fox like that girl, but they sure were easy.’
'Well I'm a football player,' he thought, 'and she was a fox.'
He took several steps to place himself between her and the minivan in the parking lot, while mentally reviewing his not very extensive library of pick-up lines. Number three he decided, ‘Hey babe, that’s a nice outfit! You know what would look even better draped over your body….? Me '
Yes, that was the one alright. Both of the others lacked subtlety. Oh, they’d worked well enough on Debbie Troy, and her little sister Pam, too. But something told him this little gal was a class above the Troy sisters, likely several.
As he turned to face her he thought to himself with amusement, ‘Funny, I never before thought of using “class” and the Troy sisters in the same sentence'.
As she approached he couldn’t help but leer, undressing her with his eyes, already convinced that she’d be overawed by his age and experience. He was surprised to see the young kid who’d held the door open somehow get in front of her. Surprised to see the kid close upon him and look up at him.
Those big brown eyes had looked kind of girlish as the boy had passed him when the two had gone together into the building. But there certainly was nothing sissy about them now as they looked up at Frank Gilman, second string defensive tackle for the Harrington High School Lobos. Momentarily they flashed golden, probably a trick of light from the setting New Mexico sun, he thought.
Suddenly the hair on the back of Frank’s neck stood up as those eyes communicated some primal message, past his conscious mind, way down to the teenager’s midbrain, to the ancient part of the brain that existed before there had even been human self awareness.
Frank sputtered, “Oh…sorry, Wasn’t watching where I was going....my bad!,” and stepped aside, away from the young couple.
As the two went by and entered the minivan the evening desert wind blew a soft gust down the streets of Roswell New Mexico, or that’s what the conscious mind of Frank Gilman told him. Deep in his subconscious mind, his midbrain knew differently. The breeze was from the wings of the angel of death, which had hovered briefly and then passed over Frank Gilman.
As he walked away, his body sweating despite the cool night breeze Frank wondered why that small kid's gaze had affected him like that. The kid hadn’t said anything, and he had at least 70 pounds weight and 6 inches more height than that kid. Not to mention being years older.
‘Well,’ he thought as he wandered away all alone on a Friday night, ‘I'm not going to get lucky tonight. Too bad the Troy sisters are both grounded. Neither of them was a fox like that girl, but they sure were easy.’