AARON FLOPPED ON THE living room couch and screamed loudly.
“What the hell was that about?” asked Sean, trying to study at the desk in the living room. In the secondhand recliner, Barry sat and read the latest Tom Clancy novel.
“Let’s go fuck somebody up,” said Aaron.
His roommates ignored him. He got up from the couch and turned the radio up to a painful volume.
“I’m trying to study,” said Sean, whose soft, serious face contrasted sharply with his muscular body.
“It’s Truck time,” said Aaron as he tuned the radio to KWIZ. Sean pretended not to hear Aaron, but Barry threw his paperback across the room. Truck spoke. That was how David Rogers’s brother and roommates learned about the latest murder. Less than twenty minutes after they heard the news, Aaron and Barry were in downtown Seattle beating an old Indian named Lester, while Sean sat in the back seat of Aaron’s Toyota 4Runner and watched it happen. The old man wrapped his arms around his head and lay on the ground while Barry kicked him. The three white boys hadn’t even bothered to wear their ski masks this time. But Aaron’s face was so contorted with rage he looked like a different person.
“Get up, you fucking squaw!” shouted Aaron. He had a bloody nose from a wild haymaker. Lester, who had won quite a few bar fights in his youth, had managed to land that first punch. After that, Aaron kicked Lester in the groin so hard that he lifted the old Indian out of his shoes. With all the fight kicked out of him, Lester had just fallen to the ground and covered up, hoping they would not send him to the hospital. Living on the streets, he had been beaten quite a few times. It was part of the territory. The cops would be along eventually to break it up. Sometimes a few bystanders jumped into the action and stopped it. With this Indian Killer thing happening, Lester was surprised that this was the first bunch of white guys to jump him. He was also surprised that he had somehow lost his shoes.
“Get up! Get up!” shouted Aaron, totally out of control. Barry had stopped kicking the old man, but Aaron was now trying to pick him up to deliver more punishment.
“He’s had enough,” said Barry. “We’ve got to go. The cops will be here soon.”
Barry dragged Aaron away from the old man. They hustled into the 4Runner and raced away from the scene. They pulled into a parking lot near Pike Place Market a few blocks away.
“Fuck, yeah,” said Aaron. “That felt good.”
“Your nose is bleeding,” Sean said to Aaron.
“What?” Aaron wiped his face and saw blood on his hand. “Fucking squaw got lucky with the first punch, didn’t he?”
Barry laughed nervously. Sean felt sick to his stomach.
“Let’s go get us some more,” said Aaron.
“Maybe that’s enough,” said Sean.
“Are you talking to me, you pussy?” Aaron bellowed at Sean, who looked shocked. “Yeah, you pussy. I want to go kick some more Indian ass.”
“Hey, Aaron,” said Barry. “Maybe that is enough? I mean, we’re going to get caught. We’re not even wearing our masks.”
“I’m not going to do it anymore,” Sean announced. “We put those other Indians in the hospital. And this sure isn’t helping David anyway.”
Barry also wanted to stop, but he was afraid of Aaron’s reaction.
“Fuck that,” said Aaron. “The police aren’t going to do anything. Hell, the police are probably beating the shit out of Indians, too. And David would’ve wanted us to do this, man. It’s for him.”
“Listen to yourself,” said Sean. “Do you believe what you’re saying?”
Aaron leaned over and punched Sean in the forehead. Barry shrank back in fear.
“Do you hear me?” asked Aaron. “Do you hear me, you pussy? I’m saying those fucking Indians killed David.”
Sean was crying.
“I always thought you were a pussy,” said Aaron. “Look at you. Big as a fucking house, but you’re just a pussy. All fucking righteous now, aren’t you? You weren’t so righteous when we started this, were you? Now, you decide. We’re going to go kick some more ass, aren’t we?”
Aaron looked at Barry, who hesitated briefly before agreeing.
“See,” Aaron said to Sean. “Barry’s with the program. Now, are you with us or are you against us?”
“That old man didn’t do anything,” said Sean.
“He’s Indian,” said Aaron. “That’s enough. Now, I’ll ask you one more time. Are you with us or against us?”
Sean looked at Barry, who avoided eye contact, then back to Aaron, who made a fist.
“Get the fuck out of my truck,” Aaron said. “You’re done. You hear me? You’re done.”
Sean opened his door and stepped out. As the 4Runner pulled out of the parking lot, Sean touched his bruised forehead. He found a pay phone and called a cab, which took him to the Fourth Precinct.