My Posse

My Posse

It was 10am as we drove down Dark Woods Lane, Leonard’s street, on our way to the batting cages. Arlo and I knew when we poured Leonard out of the truck at 3am that he would be dog-housed and would not be joining us for our Sunday bat around. He had 2-year-old girls, twins, for crying out loud. There would be a price to pay. We just wanted to bust his balls if we saw him in the yard.

The batting cages were part of the Community Complex in our town center and we’d been hitting balls there for years as sort of a Sunday ritual. We all would go to the cages together, Richie, Ross, Vincent, Leonard, Arlo and me. We would occasionally toke on a joint, but it was good clean fun.

Arlo and me were shocked by the leaves Leonard had already raked into a giant pile and left down by the street. “Somebody got up early.” Arlo chuckled as he slowed his truck. “Ginny musta cracked the whip across his ass as the sun come up.”

“Maybe she never let him into the house.” I said.

“Right! He's been raking since three this morning!” Arlo clucked. “You see him anywhere?”

We looked up into the yard but there was no sign of him.

I would have to say Richie getting killed our junior year kinda started things, as if a box got opened that we couldn’t close. That’s what it felt like. His death turned our whole school on its ear. Everyone loved Richie.

My head snapped back when Arlo floored his pickup. He swerved up over the curb and into Leonards yard. He aimed at the pile of leaves.

“Dude! He’ll be so pissed!” I screamed.

“Fuck him if he can’t take a joke!” Arlo bellowed.

We hit the pile doing about 30, sending Leonard’s freshly raked leaves everywhere. Arlo cut back down onto the street with a friendly honk-honk and we laughed our asses off all the way to the cages.

Then there was Ross. Ross joined the Marines right out of high school. He was the best athlete out of all of us, maybe in the whole school. He played center field and batted clean-up on the baseball team and was quarterback of our football team. He was great at basketball, too, but his father made him plow snow with him in the winter for extra cash. Ross was tough as nails. When we heard that he had gotten killed in some military exercise in North Carolina, we were devastated. His funeral was attended by like four hundred people, including the coach from West Lansing, our biggest rival. The news was on the cover of the newspaper. The thought of our stud being dead was unfathomable and shook us, shook me, to the core.

Arlo and me had been hitting balls for awhile when it occurred to us that the air was filled with a steady stream of sirens. We stopped to figure out the direction the sound was coming from.

“Did you leave your curling iron plugged in?” I asked Arlo. He’d been bald since the year after graduation.

“I was thinking maybe you torched Vanessa’s house because she fucked Chris Riley.” Arlo retorted. My ex girlfriend was where Arlo went whenever I poked fun at his baldness.

My phone began to buzz and vibrate on the bench outside the cage.

“Oh Randy,” Arlo mocked, “please come back to me, Randy. I swear, Chris Riley meant nothing to me after that week we spent together in your bed. While you were working.”

I got to the phone. “It’s Leonard, you dickhead.” I said.

“Tell him to put his big boy pants on and get down here.”

Leonard was really upset on the phone and I could barely understand him. I disconnected and the look on my face made Arlo automatically come out of the cage.

“What’s the matter?” Arlo asked.

“I don’t know. He’s totally freaked out. We both ran to Arlo’s truck and raced toward Leonards.

Vincent went away to some small school in Vermont near where his father lived. His parents divorced because Vincent’s mom apparently took up with some guy from the pharmacy where she worked. Although Vincent never talked about that, it was pretty clear he would never forgive her. He was hard-headed like that. The second he could go, he did. He came back only once... I’m getting to that.

We stopped abruptly when we got to Leonard’s street. There was no less than eight cops there, a fire truck and at least two ambulances. Red and blue lights reflected down the entire block.

“What is going on?” Arlo asked.

“I have no idea.”

We saw Leonard running toward the truck. He was frantically waving his arms at us. Arlo pulled to the side of the road and we both jumped out to meet him. It was obvious Leonard had been crying.

“You guys!” Leonard yelled as he approached. “Something happened. It’s the twins.”

He got to us out of breath and Arlo took him by the arms. “Lenny, chill! What’s going on?”

“They’re gone! They’re both gone.” Leonard collapsed onto his knees in the road. His wails could be heard throughout the neighborhood. Arlo looked at me as we both knelt with Leonard. Leonard’s face was buried in Arlos chest as I rubbed his back. He brought his head up.

“My girls were playing in the pile of leaves I had raked to the side of the road. Someone plowed through the leaves. They’re both gone. My kids are dead.”

Vincent showed up for the funeral, the one time he came back. He’d heard about the twins from Ginny who told him Leonard was going to need him. Aside from being distraught like everyone else, Vincent seemed like he was doing okay. Getting away was working for him. Arlo, on the other hand, didn’t show. In fact, The moment Leonard told us what had happened, Arlo shoved Leonard away, jumped into his truck and sped off. Nobody, not even his folks, saw him for days. Everyone assumed he couldn’t handle news like that and so soon after Ross. Arlo must have freaked out.

Everyone was worried about Arlo. Everyone except me. I was beyond angry with Arlo for leaving me alone with all that bullshit to sort out and without so much as a word. I jumped every time my phone buzzed, certain they had put the pieces together. By the grace of God nobody saw Arlo drive through those leaves that morning. The son of a bitch had actually gotten away with it.

I half-jokingly suggested that me and Vincent and Leonard go to the cages. It was only three days after we buried Areal and Gina. I was shocked when they said yes. Vincent was leaving that afternoon and Ginny flat out told Leonard to go. We all showed up at 10am and a few minutes later, however fleeting, our heartache faded away.

“Swing and a miss! You hit like a girl.” I yelled at Vincent. The second the words left my lips, I felt like a fool. There they were, those two tiny caskets.

“He does hit like a girl. I guess they teach you to hit like a girl in Vermont.” Said Leonard. We all laughed. We so needed to laugh. Then a car pulled into the lot and Arlo’s father stepped out. My heart skipped a beat.

“I had a feeling I’d find you guys here. Leonard, you need to go home.” He said.

“What’s going on? Leonard asked.”

Mr. Ronson looked to the ground and burst into tears. Leonard went to him. Mr. Ronson hugged him tightly.

“You need to go home, Len. There’s some police there. They’ve got something to tell you.”

Leonard jumped into his car and sped off. Mr. Ronson gave a slow look toward Vincent and me. He was sobbing as he got back into his car and slowly drove out of the lot.

Arlo admitted to what he had done. He told them he was only messing with Leonard and never saw the girls, which was true. Arlo left out the part where I was in the truck with him. And I never owned up to it. I saw no reason to except maybe to rid myself of the overwhelming guilt I would never shake. Arlo took it all by himself. He pleaded guilty to two counts of involuntary manslaughter and was sentenced to sixteen years in prison, eight years for each child. I followed the trial on TV and in the news, unable to bring myself to actually go and watch.

I went to see Arlo once in prison, but it was horribly painful. I think he felt like I owed him one and I didn’t know how to handle that. Then Arlo got transferred to another prison further away and I haven’t seen him since. I went to his mother’s funeral last week, so he’s been on my mind.

Leonard and Ginny broke up, sold the house and both moved away. The city even took the batting cages out. I got married and divorced within a year. My fault. Nothing to discuss.

I am stuck, trapped in this little house that I share with those I know best. Not Richie and Ross and Vincent and Arlo and Leonard. They’re gone. Strangers. No, no, not them. Misery and pain and guilt and anger. And shame. They are who I know. They are my posse. They are loyal and I can count on them and unlike the others, they will never leave me.