Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes by Chris Crutcher Page A

life and I’ve done nothing; stayed as far from her as I could because I don’t like thinking about her pain. But that’s chicken shit, because once a thing is known, it can’t be un known.” He sits back and folds his hands behind his head. “Dad and I sit around and watch the God networka couple of hours a week just to see what guys like Brittain are thinking. You know, keep up with the enemy.”
    Ellerby stands. “That, my friend, is about as much philosophical bullshit as I can take in one night. Let’s crank up the Cruiser and spread the word.”
    Â 
    The Cruiser slows to a stop in front of my house a few minutes before midnight. “Get some sleep,” Ellerby says. “We’ve got a tough meet tomorrow.” He squints into his side window. “Look, isn’t that Dale Thornton’s wagon?”
    I cup my hands around my eyes to block the light from the dash. “Hard to imagine there’s three of these things.” As I say it, the door to the wagon swings open and Dale steps out. “Wonder what he wants. You didn’t steal anything from his garage the other night, did you?”
    We meet Dale in the middle of the street. “Hey, man,” Ellerby says, “got her running, huh?”
    Dale locks his fingers into his belt loops, a stance preceding the moment he used to kick my butt, or take my lunch money. He says, “Yeah. No sweat.” He stands, eyes shifting from one to the other of us.
    I’m on past conditioning. “You pissed, man?”
    Dale smiles uneasily. “Naw. Why would I be pissed?”
    â€œTo tell the truth, Dale, up until the other night, I never saw you when you weren’t. It was just a guess.”
    He looks at the ground. “I wasn’t always pissed,” he says. “I just needed to make sure all you guys were a-scared of me.”
    â€œIt worked. What brings you out this late?”
    â€œGot to thinkin’,” he says. “The other night. You guys talkin’ about Scarface.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYeah. She really laid up in the crazy house? Like you said?”
    I nod. “Yup. Why?”
    â€œWell,” he says uneasily, “we was purty good friends there for a little bit. After that stupid newspaper, when she was kinda mad at you for goin’ off to be a jock…”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYeah. Helped me out of some tough spots. You know, let me talk without tellin’, stuff like that.”
    I say, “Yeah.”
    â€œThought I better tell you somethin’ else. Told her I never would, but I don’t wanna see her rot in some crazy house. I got a aunt there….”
    I wait, and Dale looks at the street again, kicking at a pebble. “You got to be careful what you do with this. I mean, who you tell.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œCan’t just be tellin’ anybody.”
    â€œOkay, I won’t. Tell me.”
    â€œReason I know them burns wasn’t caused by no boilin’ pot of spaghetti is she tol’ me different.”
    â€œWhat’d she say?”
    â€œSaid her daddy pushed her face against a burnin’ wood stove.”
    The hammer hits my stomach with such force that my knees turn to rubber. “ Jesus Christ . Are you shitting me?”
    Dale casts a sideward glance at Ellerby, then back at me. “You think I’d drive over to your house in the middle of the goddamn night to shit you?” To Dale the very worst thing in the world is to be called a liar. I need to remember that.
    â€œNo. I didn’t mean that. I just meant…Jesus, Dale. Are you sure?”
    â€œYeah, I’m sure. Night she tol’ me she was fixin’ to kill herself.”
    God, I’d had no idea. “How’d you stop her?”
    â€œHad to slap her around pretty good,” he says. “That ain’t no way, to go killin’ yourself.”
    I glance over at Ellerby, who has just set a