Milo said, “That’s enough! Sit down!”
Buchanan put his hands on his hips and stared at Milo. “I want him to say it.”
“Pete,” said his wife.
Her husband pointed a finger at her. “
“Mr. Buchanan,” said Milo, “let’s not make things worse than they are. Why don’t you just sit down?”
“I’da been listened to in the first place,” Buchanan said, “there’da been no trouble. He
Milo said, “You’re absolutely right, sir. Face up is exactly what he needs to do. So let’s give him a chance to do that.”
Buchanan looked at his son. “Say it!”
The boy choked out a “sorry” between sobs.
“Sorry,
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“He really is,” said Mrs. Buchanan, looking at Linda. “He’s never done anything like this before and never will again. We’re
“Stop apologizing, for God’s sake,” said her husband. “What in hell do
“Pete, please.”
“Don’t Pete please me!” said Buchanan. “Just stop getting in the way and let me handle this the way it should have been handled a long time ago.” He extended a pair of big white hairy fists.
His wife bit her lip and turned away. The boy had stopped crying long enough to follow the parental skirmish.
Buchanan Senior turned his back on him and approached Linda. His lip was quivering and I noticed that one eye drooped lower than the other. “Ma’am, I’ve got a President’s last name.
An angry look over his shoulder.
The boy covered his face again.
“Don’t you dare when I’m talking to you!” shouted his father. “Face
He turned and moved toward his son. Milo got between them. “I’m going to have to insist that you sit, sir.
Buchanan tightened, then let out breath.
Milo’s face was a police mask.
Buchanan muttered, then returned to the recliner, picked up the previous day’s newspaper from an end table, and pretended to be interested in the sports section.
His wife’s heavy face was ripe with humiliation.
Milo said, “Dr. Overstreet, if you want to press charges, I’ll have Matt arrested and taken in.”
The boy started crying again. His mother followed suit.
Mr. Buchanan looked at both of them with revulsion.
Linda walked over to the sofa and studied the boy. He tried to avoid her gaze, sniffled, and wiped his nose with his sleeve.
She said, “Why, Matt?”
Fidget. Shrug.
“That’s important for me to know. Before I decide what to do. Why’d you do it?”
The boy mumbled something.
Linda said, “What’s that?”
“Don’t know.”
“You don’t know why you demolished my car?”
Shrug.
“What’d you use?”
“Crowbar.”
“Did you know it was my car?”
Silence.
“C’mon, Matt. You owe me.”
Nod.
“You knew it was my car?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you want to hurt me? Have I ever done anything to you?”
Shake of head.
“Then why?”
“The school.”
“What about the school?”
“Bringing the… them in.”
“Who?”
“The niggers and beaners. Everyone said you were bringing them in to take over the neighborhood.”
“Everyone? Who’s everyone?”
The boy shrugged. “Just people.”
Buchanan broke in. “He didn’t hear that here. Not that I approve of what you’ve done, but we stick with the law, go our own way and don’t make trouble for others. And we don’t talk gutter talk. I work with the colored- we get along just fine.”
“What kind of work do you do, Mr. Buchanan?”
He named an electronics company. “Line supervisor. Got seventy-five people under me, plenty of them Mexicans and colored. He didn’t hear that kind of gutter talk here.” To his son: “Did you!”
The boy shook his head.
“It’s the goddam rock videos,” said his father. “And that car- he never shoulda had it. Too damn babyish to wipe his own nose. Look at you!”
Mrs. Buchanan left the room and came back with a box of tissues. She pulled one out and handed it to her son.
He swabbed his nose.
His father said, “Congratulations, smart guy. That Trans Am is history.”
“Dad-”
“Shut up!”
Linda said, “Matt, let me get this straight. You resent me because you think I’m trying to take over your neighborhood by bringing in kids from other neighborhoods. So you smashed up my car.”
Nod.
“How’d you know it was my car?”
The boy said, “Seen you.” Barely audible.
“Was anyone else with you?”
Shake of the head.
“Did anyone else know you were going to do this?”
“No.”
“You just did it yourself.”
Nod.
