Heartstone

Billy straightened up and handed Bobby his comb.

“You still didn’t answer me.”

“About what?”

“What to do.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “We could crash Alice Fay’s party.”

“She having a party?” Bobby asked with interest.

“That’s what Rog says. We can ask him when we get back to the table.”

Billy pushed open the bathroom door and they wound their way through the usual tables of squares and teeny-boppers to their table in the far corner of the restaurant. Roger Hessey and Esther Freemont were eating their hamburgers and Esther, as usual, was finishing an extra shake. Bobby absentmindedly scratched his crotch when he looked at Esther. She had big tits, and Bobby liked big tits, and she wasn’t bad looking, either. All the same, she fucked anything that walked and Bobby’s personal opinion was that a good-looking guy like Hessey could do a lot better for himself. Also, she was a pain. She had a crush on Bobby and was always making cow eyes at him and giving him the big come-on. Bobby knew he could fuck her if he wanted, but he knew a broad as dumb as Esther wouldn’t keep his interest long and he couldn’t hack the big scene he knew would happen when he told her to get lost. He was also a little nervous, because he knew that Esther had stabbed a guy at Stuyvesant High who had tried something fu

“Rog, didn’t you tell me that Alice Fay was having a party tonight?” Billy asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe Bobby and me would go.”

“You ain’t invited,” Roger said.

“I know that, asshole. That has nothing to do with whether we go or not.”

Roger shook his head.

“That’s just go

Bobby gri

“You ain’t afraid of a little trouble, are you?”

“Shit no,” Roger said uneasily. “I just ain’t in the mood for it tonight.”

“Who says there has to be trouble?” Billy asked. “All I was thinkin’ of doing was going to a party. I ain’t go

“One of those jocks will.”

“Jocks are basically candyasses, right, Bob?”

Bobby nodded in agreement.

“Well count me out,” Roger said.

“Oh, Rog, can’t we go? I never saw Alice Fay’s house,” Esther said.

“What do you want to see her house for. It’s just another spoiled rich kid’s house.”

“I know, but I’d like to. Couldn’t we, please?”

“I told you, I ain’t going to no fucking party where I ain’t been invited. Alice Fay has got her nose stuck up her ass anyway.”

“I know something I’d like to stick up her ass,” Billy said.

“You watch your mouth,” Esther said angrily. Billy just gri

“Look,” Billy said, “I’m crashing. Who’s go

“Count me in,” Bobby said.

“I’m just going home,” Roger said.

“Can I come with you guys?” Esther pleaded.

Bobby looked at Billy. It would be a real pain to have to take Esther along, but, if they said yes, Roger would probably come so as not to lose face.

“Sure, Esther, come on.”

Roger looked at his plate.

“Ah, if you’re going, I’m coming.”

“Good. I knew you weren’t chicken.”

“Who’s chicken?” Roger bristled.

Bobby and Billy laughed.

“No one is chicken, man. We were just riding you.”

“Yeah, Rog. Everyone knows you’re a good man in a fight.”

“Almost as good as this,” Billy said and Bobby heard the familiar click as the long steel of Billy’s switchblade snapped out under the table. “The Old Equalizer,” Billy liked to call it and it had sure come in handy in the past. Bobby smiled as he remembered the time they had gone to the movies and the two niggers had sat down behind them and made all that noise. Bobby hated niggers. Bobby and Billy were Cobras and from time to time the Cobras would ride over to the nigger section of town and beat the shit out of one or two. But that time at the movies there had just been the two of them and these two noisy jig-aboos and Billy had asked them real polite to shut up, but they started with this wiseass jive and just kept making more noise and talking cool about white boys and one nigger leaned down next to Billy’s ear and whispered real low about how he was going to wait till the show was over and follow Billy outside and stomp him good. Bobby had started to turn, but he had felt Billy’s hand on his knee and had heard the sound of the blade being withdrawn from Billy’s pocket. The nigger’s lips were practically touching Billy’s ear and his nose was leaning down over Billy’s left shoulder. The nigger never saw the knife in the dark until it was too late. Billy brought it up real slow with his right hand and pressed the button. The tip of the blade had shot out just right, poking the tiniest hole in the tip of the nigger’s nose. The nigger had screamed in pain. Blood was pouring out of his nostril and Billy was up on his seat screaming. Those coons sure had run fast. Billy always ended the story by saying that it was the only time he ever saw a nigger turn white.

Esther was finishing her shake and Billy and Roger went over to the cashier and paid the bill. Bobby knew where Alice lived and Roger did not, so they decided that Roger and Esther would follow Bobby and Billy. Bobby felt good. He knew that something would happen tonight. He had that tingly feeling in his stomach that he would get when he was nervous, but cool. Like before a rumble or before he would start to put the make on some chick. The clock in the hamburger joint read eight fifty-five.

Richie Walters parked his ’55 Mercury next to the curb in front of Elaine Murray’s house. Before he got out, he checked his face in the rear view mirror. He had taken care of a pimple on the left side of his chin with Clearasil and he wanted to make sure that he had done a good job. The pimple was almost invisible under the flesh-colored cover-up. Richie smiled. He looked good. He had made a special effort to look good, because tonight was going to be a special night.

It was chilly out and Richie tucked his hands into the pockets of his letter jacket as he headed for the house. He felt fu

Going steady was a big step to take. He had thought about it for some time before deciding to ask Elaine. The biggest problem would arise next September. Richie was crazy about Elaine, but he knew that she was not as smart as he was. She had applied to State and a few other local colleges, whereas he had applied to mostly Ivy League and other eastern schools. State was his last choice and he did not really want to go there.

Richie did not think that he would have much trouble getting into a top school. He had excellent grades and he had letters in three sports, plus an honorable mention All-State as a halfback his junior year. Coach thought he would make first team this year and a few schools had already offered him athletic scholarships.

Richie had turned the athletic scholarships down. He wanted to play sports in college, but he was more interested in his education. He had listened hard to what John Ke