Steplings: A Novel

Chapter 1

It would seem a wholesome American scene, an updated Rockwell portrait. Here, on a September afternoon in 2003, a young man-shirtless, tanned torso, blond ponytail, cut-off jean shorts-was mowing the lawn of a modest ranch-style home in a Dallas suburb thirty years past its prime. Hackberry roots buckled the sidewalks, a few dead vehicles hunkered on cinder blocks in driveways or beside garages, and RVs were parked in plain sight; some houses had that closed-up, neglected look that results when the inhabitants grow old and run out of energy or money to replace a torn screen, to have the trim painted, or to worry about landscaping. \'(lhen it came to lawn maintenance, people on this block watered yards with sprinklers on hoses and usually cut their own grass or hired a kid like Jason to do it. Today, though, Jason was working gratis for his father, Burl. (Of course, as Burl rightly and often pointed out, it was Jason's lawn, too.) Since July, Jason had been looking for a job. He had applied at several restaurants and at three stores at Town East Mall. The mall was problematic because he'd been fired last spring from a job manning a sunglasses kiosk because he kept leaving it unattended. "It made me feel like a dog on a chain," he had complained to his father. He had also filled out applications at all three Mesquite Pep Boys auto stores (the job he wanted the most) and at two Blockbusters, including one on Belt Line and Military Parkway managed by a dweeb who had once ratted jason out for smoking in the North Mesquite High School restroom. After a callback at the Belt Line Blockbuster, he'd gone in and talked to the assistant manager, a black girl who said she'd attended N M HS and who seemed friendly enough, but she said he'd have to talk to the manager. He'd intended to set an appointment this very morning, but before he got around to it, Burl called from work at ten to tell him he'd just gotten off the phone with their lawyer. There was good news and bad news, Burl told j ason. T he good news was that after riding the fence for these three months, Lisa's father had finally agreed to withdraw charges for unauthorized use of a motor vehicle on the Miata, and the charge of minor in possession had been dismissed for lack of evidence. Of course, the shoplifting charge was dismissed too, because jason wasn't even in the store when somebody stole that fistful of Slim jims, so the clerk couldn't identify him as the culprit who had provoked his 911 call. And the charge of resisting arrest had been downgraded to failure to obey a police officer. When Burl didn't go on, Jason said, "So what's the bad news?" "The bad news is that the charge of assault with bodily harm is still on you, son, and we're going to court on Monday unless you make a plea bargain." "But I just rail into him, Dad! He was standing in the way trying to stop me! If he fractured his freaking skull and broke his collarbone, it's not my fault! I didn't try to do that-I just wanted out of his way!" " I know that, son. The lawyer said that might make a difference , and it's possible that charge will be downgraded, too. You might want to think about how you say all that, though. You might try to sound a little bit sorry." Burl sounded a little bit angry. " In the meantime we got to expect that they'll try to scare the bejesus out of us." "They are!" Burl's chuckle sounded like a ragged sigh. "Yeah. So maybe 2 in the end it will be some lesser charge, and there's hope for a probated sentence if you plead guilty." Jason fumed in silence. Why didn't that old fucker get out of the way instead of trying to be a hero? Who makes a citizen 's arrest over a half-dozen sticks of jerky? Burl said, "What's for sure is that Mr. Crawford will be filing a civil suit against us for damages." "Good luck with that! I'm eighteen and I don't even have a...