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ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS BOOK--EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL

PEOPLE--ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL VOICES ARE PARAPHRASED...POORLY. THE


FOLLOWING BOOK CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND POSSIBLE GRAMMATICAL
ERRORS THAT WOULD MAKE CERTAIN COLLEGE PROFESSORS SHUDDER.
CHAPTER 20: Saturday, October 14, 2009, 6:03, p.m.

On our drive from our nation's capital to our nation's chubby midsection, Julie and
laughed and spoke of all of those times nearly 20 years ago: the lunacy of the homecoming
parade and me being rescued by the Chief of Police of that small little Missouri hamlet, Matt
with his towel and bong, my bike's tires getting slashed, Julie running for her life from the MSA,
the wedding, the funeral, the smokestacks, the stolen Mac, Kevin Blackman's endless petitions,
the autopsy report. All of it while we listened to decades old KCOU mix tapes Julie managed to
download onto an iPod.

Truly, that was great music.

At rest stops, looked again at The Meaneater Reunion invitation. n small print at the
bottom, it read: "Due to the relocation of the Meaneater offices, we felt this was the perfect time
to close down shop with a full-blown reunion with old staff. Come with us as we go through old
issues, old photos, and debate whether we should throw out the old couch. Drinks and chili will
be provided.

"The old offices, gone. Unbelievable, said to Julie as we sipped bottled water on the
nterstate. " bet that fact alone will get everyone out of the woodwork to visit the old place. Are
we really prepared to see Rad, Ronnie, and the rest of the Jennys again?

Some 50 miles outside of Columbia, on -70, started scanning the horizon for the
gigantic McDonald's that sat on a hill, off the exit ramp. t was bigger than the Lincoln Memorial,
bigger than any restaurant 'd ever seen or seen since. My father and stopped there on our
way toward Columbia before he dropped me off. On his way home, he said he stopped there
again, this time crying as he left his little lady behind. But it appeared to have been torn down,
gone.

When we drove past the golden arches, remember how swore after graduation 'd
never return to Columbia, Missouri, again. And yet here was. Curiosity brought me here.
wanted to see how they all turned out, those Meaneater staffers. We were going to take on the
world, after all. And Julie did; so did before got burned out.

n an hour, we pulled off the highway onto North Providence Road by the Wal-Mart
and the Columbia Mall, and drove south to Campus. Before knew it, was driving on East
Broadway, past the Boone National Bank. And then, making a left, we passed The Blue Note,
the site where the old, new Cool Stuff used to be, Shakespeare's and drove down a hill and into
the campus. The town looked like an old Western movie set, so much sky and so much beige
and grey. Flat top roofs with no ornamentation. Sparse. Simple.

We noted with a nod the new journalism digs, much more massive than when we were
there in the late 80s and early 90s. All that alumni money put to good use, no doubt.

made another right and then a left to coast around a small circular drive. "Holy hell,
Julie muttered. " forgot about them.

We stopped, no traffic behind us, and stared at the lonely columns of Academic Hall in
front of us. The hall itself had burned down probably a hundred years before. Only the columns
remained---making the campus's quad look like a ruin of a Grecian Temple. t was unmistakably
cool, even to my older jaded eyes, yet all of those years went to school here, don't think
any of us thought of them as anything important or interesting. They just blended into the
background.

"We need to check into the hotel, Julie said, scrolling her Blackberry, gently urging me
to move on. "And get to this reunion, right?

We made reservations at a Courtyard Marriott on Old 63, past the sports stadium, but
eons better than the nasty Tiger Hotel that was downtown. There was a shuttle to campus and
joked with Julie that we should rent bikes like our old selves.

Twenty minutes later, a generic hotel concierge handed us generic room key cards and
pointed to the generic elevators next to the generic green plastic ferns. As Julie tapped away on
her Blackberry, noticed a maid touching her crotch a few feet from us.

No, adjusting her crotch.

As we stood at the elevator banks, nonchalantly stared at the maid. Trunkish legs in
pantyhose, in which black spiky hair poked out from the nylon. The rest of the outfit nondescript:
A blue maid's dress with white apron. White anklets with pink pom poms. Black dusty sneakers,
size 11 or 12.

"That maid is a man, muttered to Julie, who looked up and squinted. After a beat, she
nodded in agreement.

"Missouri and their freaks, she muttered and returned to her Blackberry.

He was clean-shaven but already sporting a three-o'clock shadow under orange Cover
Girl foundation. He wore eye shadow the color of a robin's egg, a color myself remembered
from my junior high days. The color matched the dress. He carried a mop with attitude. A name
tag on his or her chest read "JUANTA.

The elevator dinged and he or she got in with us, mop and all. pushed six. A hairy
knuckle pushed three. The doors closed and the elevator hummed as it rose.

There was something so familiar about him couldn't place it. starred at his profile and
could smell his aftershave.

The elevator opened at three and he pushed out the mop and looked back at us with
some interest, before the doors shut again.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 7:17, p.m.

An hour or so later, Julie and opened the south doors of Brady Commons, where the
computer store used to be. From the sidewalk, the building looked the same, except the trees
had all grown, giving more shade. Once we entered, we were overwhelmed with the noise, a
den of echoes. could hear squeals of young girls as they teased their new boyfriends. You
could smell the overheated fake bread at a Subway sandwhich shop, where Brady Grill used
to be. Black and gold were everywhere. could not believe we thought we could study with any
success in there.

Directly in front of us was the staircase, going down, to the offices of The Meaneater. n
front of the staircase was a huge blow-up poster of The Meaneater, from the 1970s. The lead
story was about campus race relations on Martin Luther King day. A banner draped across the
poster read "REUNON DOWNSTARS. Next to it was print outs of dozen of other Meaneater
front pages. scanned them until found those that were from our years.

My eyes fell upon the murder coverage. Julie and stared at it.

"Never did figure that out, who murdered Ashley. None of the pieces came together.
mumbled. " thought we were such Nancy Drews too.

"And then Watts put it in the cold case file, Julie added. "And it stayed there. No justice
for Ashley. No Pulitzers for young girl journalists.

She paused.

"But it's OK. We turned out just fine. We all did. Except for Ashley.

smiled at her. We again looked down the stairs and saw a ray of light coming out of
The Meaneater offices.

"God, can you believe we came out to this? asked Julie, who was balancing a
Tupperwear container in her hands that held a famed St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake.

"No, she replied.

We stood on the landing looking down for a long spell. With the offices of The Meaneater
already halfway moved to Memorial Union, this would be the last hurrah of our old haunt. What
remained of our old offices would be renovated to make room for the Black Student Association.

We were halfway down the stairs when a man, pot bellied but with pencil thin legs
approached us. His hair was thinning but was combed back into a pathetic skinny pony tail. His
blue eyes were squinty.

He wore a black T-shirt that had a white slash across the profile of our 44th president
with a tagline that said "NOBAMA.

" was wondering if you ladies would sign my petition.

Julie looked down to her gooey butter cake.

"Petition? Her tone was full of annoyance.

"To return the MSA offices to their rightful owners. Giving black students priority over
the MSA is nothing more than pandering to a handful of students who ascribe to misguided
affirmative action beliefs. What's next?

blinked and looked hard at the man. His watery blue eyes looked eerily familiar.

After a beat, grabbed Julie's arm hard. She squealed in pain. The cake shook.

"Kevin Blackman? t's us. Julie and Sasha. Do you remember us? Are you here for the
reunion?

The man nodded. Then tapped a leathery finger onto his clipboard.

"So you want us to sign a petition taking away rights from someone? From black
people? From black kids.

Yes, he gruffly nodded.

"My God. What happened to you?

t was Julie who tossed out the question and she likely meant his shift in politics as well
as his pot belly. Kevin didn't have an answer. Like the old days, took over the interview.

"Kevin Blackman, who once was the champion of black students everywhere, despite
being a white dude, is now against.

He didn't let me finish; he pulled away from us.

" grew up, he said, sharply. Sadly. " suggest you do the same and stop being so nave
to the world around you. t's changing, ladies. And not for the better.

He pushed past us and up the stairs.

We stood there for a moment before we descended into the darkness of Brady
Commons and to the place we called home for so long. What other changes were we going to
find?

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 7:27 p.m.

Sasha and reentered The Meaneater newsroom after 20 years. The first thing noticed
was how much it looked the same; the beige carpet, The Savitar yearbook's closet cum office,
the people. Familiar faces. Filled out. Fat.

A table of food under a banner reading 'Welcome Home Reporters---Now Help Us Pack
Up!' on glossy paper was set up in the middle of the central newsroom where many a story
meeting had taken place. Black and gold Hawaiian leas and tapestries mixed with images of
Bengal tigers decorated the space. As upstairs in Brady Commons, the walls had been covered
with even more blow-ups of former Meaneater issues spanning the years.

The last party had attended, a few days before, was at the Moxy Club on Lexington
Avenue in Manhattan with the World Press nstitute. Culture shock jarred my sense of time and
space before almost dropped the gooey butter cake brought from St. Louis. Sasha held out
her hands to save it.

"Are you OK? she asked.

"Yes, 'm fine, answered still a little woozy.

spotted Jennie Tyler, my advertising director at Forrest Post, looking sharp in a pink
skirt suit behind the table of food. She arrived a few days earlier than Sasha and with the
intention of visiting family in Tennessee before heading over to Columbia.

Jennie stood next to a woman whose face came level with my ad woman's Coach
belt. Her round face was above a plate of crudits on a gold and black checked tablecloth. As
she raised her arm to take hold of a few carrot sticks, figured out the face belonged to Jenny
Taylor, the one who made out with stuttering Mark Cooter in the dark room the morning after
Ashley's funeral. Her hair now straight, (everybody had big hair and a spiral perm in 1989!), she
was sitting on the down low in what must have been a child's chair.

"Sasha! And.her friend! Sasha and turned to our left to see Rad in a trio with Don
Dandy and a woman didn't recognize in horrible, yet familiar, blue eye shadow. With short,
dark brown hair, the woman certainly wasn't his old girlfriend Jeni Tiller.

The former editor in chief of The Meaneater looked almost exactly the same, but with a
fuller face. Lifting his arms to greet us, his irresistible smile and energy were still in tact. He wore
a T-shirt reading, 'My President is Black.'

"Looks delicious! Don Dandy, journalism professor extraordinaire, motioned towards the
gooey butter cake with the same eyes beaming from a much older face. Kids were still using his
books at university classes the world over.

"Rad worked on the Obama campaign in owa, Sasha relayed to me in a soft voice
before calling out to him, "We're here! Good to see you.

"You too, Dandy, wearing a black turtleneck with a tiger patch on the neckroll, replied
raising a can of cheap beer. Was the 70-year-old professor trying to pull off a hipster look? Or,
was his old beatnik look in style again? "And you two girls look fabulous!

The three stood in front of the old production room in a corner of the editorial office. The
door was open and the room formerly used for pasting pages was filled with stacks of outdated
computers.

turned to face our old, nutty professor; "Who's the fascinating, young woman to your
right, Professor Dandy? t felt good to tease him post graduation.

"Why, it's your old partner in crime! Dandy slapped the back of the large girl with darting
eyes. Just then realized the woman standing next to Dandy was Juan Wayne. And not more
than 40 minutes earlier, he was dressed as a maid at our hotel.

Sasha led out a loud gasp before asking; "Sorry, but weren't you dressed as a maid at
our hotel earlier today? My partner read my mind, and then added slowly; ".Juanita?

Juanita's made-up face turned from orange to red.

" thought you jumped in front of a train in Georgia, Sasha wondered way out loud.

"That wasn't me, Wayne scrunched his face up in embarrassment. "That was a man
named Juan Wayne in fact.

"There was a real Juan Wayne? asked him.

"His mother was a Mexican John Wayne fan, married to a Scotsman, Juanita continued
to explain, sucking in his gut, looking longingly toward the table of food. " heard from witnesses
at the funeral, he eyed options; chili, cake, corn on the cob.

Juanita Wayne, the same boy who popped the cherry of my investigative journalism
career was a man wearing skin-tight Jordache jeans. His manicured fingers gripped an orange
liquid poured into a hurricane-style glass with a teal-colored umbrella. His wig was a variation on
a Liza Minnelli theme.

"'m going to refresh! he said in a shaky falsetto to no one in particular before heading
over to the bar set up near the old light table.

Sasha and took the opportunity to move toward the Jennys. Our desire to talk to Rad
was outweighed by our desire to not talk to Dandy. Steps away, we approached items typical
of a Missouri B-B-Q. My gooey butter cake, mastered by a Dutch bakery along the Mississippi
River, fit in nicely with the spread.

Jenny Taylor rolled around the corner of the table to reveal she was, in fact, not sitting in
a conventional chair at all, but a wheelchair. A really nice one too. Like one of the newer baby
strollers, but with bigger wheels, an SUV of a wheelchair. Though her face looked exactly as it
did 20 years before, her body had grown to monstrous proportions. Her style was unchanged
from the old days. She appeared as if she were still wearing the same baggy, turquoise Firenze
sweater from college, her physique simply filling the formerly-oversized, yarned pattern to the
limit. n fact, wasn't entirely sure it wasn't the same sweater.

"Ladies, it's so great to see you, the woman smiled warmly as Sasha's eyes gleamed.
Jennie Tyler, appeared ridiculously drop dead gorgeous standing next to Jenny sitting in her
chair. My travel companion from the nation's capitol strained to hide an expression of
competitive victory.

"Great to see you too, Jenny, offered before Sasha had a chance to reveal her true
colors. " see you still remember my right hand lady, Jennie Tyler!

"Yes, she has been telling me all about her adventures at Forrest and your exciting lives
in D.C., Jenny beamed. " read you guys all the time. A true fan, the former beauty queen
seemed genuinely happy to see us. Fully digesting the bittersweet nature of the moment, a
tinge of sadness struck my gut.

"Are you spearheading the press for the Special Olympics? offered clumsily, trying to
think of the most fabulous journalism position possible for a woman in her condition. Sasha
visibly winced at my politically incorrect guesstimate.

"No, nothing, that exciting, Taylor countered with a matter-of-fact attitude. "Bugs are my
life, 'm afraid.

"Bugs? questioned while Sasha continued to suppress the perma-grin on her face.

"'m the editor of Bug Monthly. Remember what Dandy told us in our Media Matters
class? The future is service journalism. So, write about bugs. All of 'em.

"Oh, that's right! Sasha's arms sprung up with good humor. " read that in the alumni
newsletter, my companion recalled, overjoyed for all the wrong reasons.

"Sasha, Julie! The voice came from Ronnie Bolt as he paraded out of the editorial office
carrying an extra 70 pounds. Arwen followed behind him, looking almost exactly as she did the
last time saw her, sporting an asymmetrical haircut and new pink Converse high-top basketball
shoes. A chill crept up my spine as recalled the day Ashley died in pink high-tops. Upon
instinct, my eyes moved towards the editorial office, the site of Ashley's murder and the sight of
her body.

"Ronnie! Sasha ran over to hug the man and broke me out of reverie.

My senses adjusted to the fact the perverted charm the crime beat editor used to have
was buried under sallow skin, dark circles, a receding hairline and a spare tire to the spare tire.

On top of all that, was adjusting to the fact that, unlike our days in the newsroom twenty
years before, we were living in a post-politically correct age. Not only had 'fat' become a bad
word to say in certain company, wasn't even supposed to be thinking it.

"What have you been up to? Sasha asked.

"Working in PR, taking naked photos on weekends, Ronnie replied with a mischievous
expression.

"Arwen, you look exactly the same, turned my sights to appreciate her draped,
zigzagged, long-sleeved shirt pouring over her left shoulder. Purple leggings hugged her lower
limbs.

"Well, now do, she answered. "'ve gone through about 30 costume changes in the
past 20 years and have landed right back at the Thompson Twins, the woman smiled as she
pulled her long bangs behind her right ear.

"Nice, complimented.

"Looking good, Sasha nodded along. Had the East Coast turned Sasha and into totally
superficial people? Too concerned with what people and things appeared to be?

Turning away from Arwen and Ronnie, found another sight for sore eyes in the editorial
office. Matt Wilde, former KCOU disc jockey and cutest guy in school in 1989, stood with an
attractive male couldn't identify. n the middle of the room, they conversed near the same stain
that had been on the carpet since before was a cub reporter. Matt wore a Mizzou basketball
jersey reading the name 'POWERS,' and black jeans. He leaned on an open ladder decorated
with black and gold leis. Fitting him in all the right places, he still had the power to transform a
standard, poorly tailored clothing ensemble into something special.

"Welcome back, girls! a deeper version of Mark Cooter's voice called out from the body
on the other side of the ladder. "Join us!

"Wow! My voice reacted on it's own just outside the editor's door. What a
transformation! Sasha, eyes wide, appeared to be frozen with shock.

A large, muscled man with a warm smile and infectious sense of confidence moved
towards us. Wearing a sweater and turtleneck, he looked good in his clothes too. The familiar
stutter and skinny frame of Mark Cooter were no longer. He opened his arms to greet Sasha.

Dazed and confused, my fellow journalist landed into his arms. He squeezed her with a
warm embrace. , in turn, used the opportunity to enter the editorial office to meet Matt with my
own full body reunion. He felt warm, open and loving. My former Hadley-Major dorm mate still
smelled really good. melted as the four of us hugged silently for a moment.

Ah, reunion!

"Man, Mark, you look fantastic, offered with genuine enthusiasm after pulling away
from Matt. "Oh, you look great too, Matt. added as an after thought. Sasha and were used to
Matt's look. Mark was something altogether new.

"No offense taken, Matt raised his hands in surrender. "We've been hearing about the
transformed Mark Cooter all day. Matt hid his irritation behind his unchanged signature smile.

"Where've you been hiding? Sasha asked Mark with genuine interest. " couldn't find
you on the 'Eater alumnae data base.

"New Orleans, working at Blaine Kern's Float Factory.

"Wow, why there?

"n January, oh-six, couldn't take the Missouri winter anymore so went down to the Big
Easy to help with post-Katrina construction and just stayed. Mark sounded like a different
person than the one we knew in college. His voice was deeper, his movements grander and he
had the courage to look us in the eye when speaking. He and Matt looked good together
regardless of the tension between them.

"Still working at Penthouse, Matt? Apparently, Sasha was more in touch with keeping
tabs on our former Meaneater co-workers than was. The update on Mr. KCOU took me by
surprise. Or did it?

"Oh, no, Matt replied. "after being Larry's personal assistant for a few years, couldn't
take it anymore.

"Must have been awful! Mark shot out with a bitter tone, rolling his eyes.

"t was actually, Matt countered. "Believe it or not, it's hard work to keep the party going
all day and night.

" believe it! did indeed before turning my attention left. Not only was the editor's desk
the same as it had been 20 years before, so was the stain-covered, beige couch just as the
reunion invite stated.

"Ah! Matt appreciated my sympathy as his shoulders relaxed. "Well, came out of the
whole thing with a lot of funny stories. So, that's what do now.

"What, now? Sasha asked, anxious.

"Stand up comedy, Matt announced.

"Stand up?! Sasha couldn't hide her disappointment. Back in the old days, before
started my blog, had considered stand-up as a career choice, before realized guys don't like
women who are funny. t appeared the same was true for the flipside.

"Didn't Sam Kinison die right around graduation? Sasha blurted out as Mark started
laughing for no apparent reason.

"Yeah, Matt said with a confused expression.

"Remember the robot homecoming? offered trying to change the subject back to
Matt's glory days.

"What year was that? Matt jumped on the change of focus.

"Was that the year Ashley died? knew but asked anyway to see how the guys would
react.

"Yes! Sasha's index finger sprung up into the air as she remembered, blowing my
angle. drew my attention upwards and noticed the ladder looked like it was leading to the old
hideout, as the ceiling panel was ajar.

"Yeah, now remember! Matt announced. "She was supposed to take pictures of
albums with future themes for an advertorial, but she never did.

"Yes, she did, Mark interrupted, anxious to prove Matt wrong. " saw her. We spent a
few late nights in the office together, he added with innuendo.

"You did? Matt asked with surprise.

"You saw her? Sasha's tone was puzzled.

"We never saw the shots, Matt insisted with a sneer. "Rad ultimately pulled the
advertorial because he didn't have time to take the pictures himself. He was too busy dealing
with the cops and the funeral. He was certain. "The whole KCOU staff was pissed off about it.

"And, the last roll of film was pulled out of her camera. Sasha recalled, lost in thought,
her eyes looking up the ladder.

"But, know saw her, in this office. Mark's voice trailed off as he began to doubt
himself.

"The police never found the roll of film. Sasha spoke from her own reverie, without
fully taking in Mark's claim.

"They didn't? Mark uttered.

"Whatever! Matt blurted. "n the end, KCOU didn't need The Meaneater to promote the
best robot soundtrack of the homecoming season, Matt closed. Losing interest in us, the former
KCOU star wandered around to the chair side of the editorial desk.

"No, the police didn't find the film, Sasha emphasized her train of thought before she
gave Mark a cold, puzzled look while he cleared his throat.

"My god, look at it under here, Matt called out drawing our attention away from Mark.
Though Mark's physical assets had greatly improved over the years, Sasha and still enjoyed
watching whatever Matt was doing. And now, he was on the floor. The distraction of our
attention allowed an eerie moment between Mark, Sasha and to subside.

Matt threw a Magic 8 ball, a Sir-Mix-A-Lot cassette tape and a tiger paw plushy toward
the feet of Julie and . Matt looked really good under that desk as his mop of hair still flopped
and his syrupy voice still melted the atmosphere like our college days.

As Sasha and magnetically moved closer to Matt on the floor, could see old
Meaneaters stacked up in two mountains under the desk leaving just enough room in the middle
for legs to kick. The newsprint looked a fossil ready for excavation. Stratums of paper formed a
fascinating geology project right before our eyes. couldn't resist the magic emitting from it, and,
apparently, neither could Matt or Sasha.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 7:43 p.m.

nstinctually, stepped in front of Julie, pushed aside Matt and dozens of issues before
grabbing a fistful of the faded yellow Meaneaters that were deep down in a box, forgotten, under
the desk. The smokestack story Julie and wrote appeared below the fold of the issue at the top
of the stack. turned the paper over, and looked at the dateline.

It was dated Tuesday, September 19, 1989. The day before Ashley's murder.

again edged forward ignoring Matt and Julie and knelt down, grabbing more of the
bounty, this time a huge pile's worth and dumped them on the desk.

They were all from Tuesday, September 19, 1989.

"So these issues have been sitting under a desk for 20 years, heard Julie say. "Does
no one around here clean up after themselves?

glanced at Julie and then at the couch. Same nasty ass couch.

"Apparently not.

"Kids, heard Matt say. "Come on, when we hung out here or at KCOU did we ever pick
up after ourselves?

returned to the pile of Meaneaters. heard Cooter talking to Matt about checking
out the chili table one more time, but Matt blew him off as he was looking at old Meaneater
columns.

Julie edged away from the desk to gingerly finger the couch. "This needs to be burned,
she said. "When they move they need to just burn this. Filthy kids.

Someone walked by the office and poked her head in. She wore a T-shirt that
read "Eater 2001.

"Filthy kids? she said to us, in a dimisive tone, as she balanced two bowls of chili. "Like
Meaneater 89 ever cleaned up squat! We inherited this mess, like you inherited another mess.
One mess begats another mess. Why else would they decide to move the offices? t's easier to
start fresh than to steam clean this area out.

She handed a bowl of chili to a friend who walked up to her and disappeared.

Julie and shot sidewise glances at each other. So, for apparently 20 years, the office
was never vacuumed, dusted, or aired out since we worked there. And now that thought about
it, the office back in 1989 was full of a bunch of crap from the 1960s. t was a perfect specimen.
And it also meant something else to me: The crime scene, more or less, was still remarkably
untouched.

Julie returned to the stack of old Meaneaters. "Never filed, she mumbled
again. "Dozens and dozens of the same issue.

Back at the desk, Matt was flipping through the old issues when Cooter grabbed Julie
and me loosely by our shoulders.

"So we never filed anything. Who files when they are 18? Big deal.

"This is right before Ashley was killed, Julie said. "They are all the same issue.
September 19. Remember? t's odd that these were never put away.

She leaned down to grab the box the issues were in when Cooter yelped.

" wouldn't touch that if were you, Cooter's body stiffened. He remained standing back
like bedrock on the other side of the desk. He seemed to be drifting away from us as his spirit
gravitated away from the front corner of the desk and towards the door. A nervousness started
to take over his mannerisms.

"What do you mean? Matt enquired before bending his knees and popping his body
back under the desk. "We haven't seen these old issues in years. How could you resist? He
raised his head above the desktop to try to convince Cooter with a smile to no avail. After
insulting Cooter for not being adventurous, Matt got to work under the desk.

"You could hurt yourself, Cooter's full-out nervous manner returned for the first time
since we had seen him in 20 years. noticed that he started to jerk his body more and the
smooth coolness with which he met us had started to fade into the insecure Cooter of yore. t
made me feel horrible for him. Something was very wrong; it was eating away at me. looked
back at the front page of the old issues, staring at the dateline.

"Hurt ourselves, how? Matt asked from down below.

"Ouch! What is that? Matt shouted as he banged his head below the desktop. Mark
Cooter's eyes darted around before he walked out the door without note.

"Holy, shit, it's a really old computer tower! Matt called out. He pulled layers of paper
away in a mad rush to dig deeper. Julie and crouched down to help him pull out old issues of
newspaper from under the desk. "The cord's missing! jammed my fingers into some fringed
wiring.

"Wow, that is an old one, Julie said evenly. "Look at how dark the housing is.

" had forgotten about that beige that used to get filthy so easily, observed.

"Only men would think to make a desktop appliance that ugly, Julie added.

"t almost looks like the computer that got stolen, noted as an afterthought before
bending my body toward the floor to get a closer look. "Oh my God, it is the stolen Mac!
squealed out before raised my hands to cover my mouth with fright.

Matt and Julie turned to me, puzzled.

"How do you know? she asked, right before recalled the computer's defining mark out
loud. "t has the KCOU sticker on the back. pointed to the old KCOU sticker, that read "Music
Matters.

"Exactly! she yelled out.

"Are you talking about the computer that got stolen when that Ashley girl was killed?
Matt caught on as ran to the editorial office door.

"You guys! Come in here, shouted out to the newsroom, now packed with old staffers
eating chili and drinking booze. "We just found the stolen Mac!

"t can't be! heard Dandy's voice call out with a tone of doubt. "f so that would be
fascinating.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 7:55, p.m.

As former reporters raced into the office to join Sasha, Matt and , the former KCOU DJ
pulled the hard drive out to set it in the middle of the room for all to see. One by one, reunion
attendees filed in and circled around it. Dandy entered last as he wheeled Jenny Taylor into the
crowded space.

"That can't be it! Mark called out from the corner where the computer was stolen in
1989. "Do you honestly think the hard drive would be sitting there all this t-t-time undetected?
Did he stutter?

"Yes! answered. "'ve worked in offices in New York and DC with shelves of
magazines that haven't been touched in decades.

"And, you know how college kids are, Sasha pointed out. "As we were just reminded,
they don't even want to clean up their own messes, let alone someone else's.

"That's true indeed! Dandy agreed with a full heart.

" wonder if the rest of it is here somewhere?

As people looked around the room, picking up piles of newsprint and looking behind the
disgusting couch, Matt started digging into another pile under the desk opposite the one he had
already excavated, behind another set of drawers. Jenny Taylor pulled a batik cloth off a de
facto table to reveal a brown moving box in fact.

"A monitor! Jenny called out after opening the lid of the box. As she spun her
wheelchair closer to the box to dig inside of it, the crowd started to move toward the corner of
the room she and Mark occupied. Shocked, Dandy helped the struggling girl pull an 18-inch
monitor out of the box.

"The old monitor! Ronnie called out as he stood on an armrest of the Gross Couch to
see above the crowd. "The one where we could finally.

".see the whole page without scrolling, Sasha finished his thought from behind the
editor's desk.

"Why is it in here? Juanita wondered aloud as he stood by the door, his deep voice
incongruous with his lacey top. "t makes no sense.

As if from a premonition, a tall, dark student donning a sweatshirt with Alpha Mega
Greek letters walked under the threshold of the editorial office. He stood for a moment in the
same spot where the Al Meg brick fell the night of the murder.

"Hey, Meaneater people! he called out with a bright smile and a deep voice. "My mom
told me all about you.

Everyone turned to look to each other in confusion while Matt and Mark's eyes
brightened. Suddenly, Lucinda Powers popped out from behind the tall boy with a big smile and
wide wave of her hands.

"Hi, everyone, she greeted us happier than had ever seen her at, in or out of the
newsroom. Cheers of surprise came from all sides of the editor's office.

" want you all to meet my son, Charles, Lucinda offered with pride.

"That's who he is! Dandy realized aloud.

"Some of you fans might have already seen him playing forward on the Mizzou
basketball courts.

As people in the room greeted Charles, Lucinda moved closer to Juanita with disgust.
The ruffles of his shirt contrasted with the straight cut of his jeans and red Candies' brand heals.

"Jesus, Juan. She looked him up and down with disapproval. "You're still an asshole,
aren't you?

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 8:01, p.m.

stepped away from Julie. needed a moment. sensed a fight erupting between
Lucinda and the freak that was now Juanita. Years ago, it would have been fun to stand back
and watch her pull him apart, but now, wasn't in the mood. Besides, needed to mull all this
over in my brain. eyed Julie and she, curious, followed me soon after.

don't know if anyone noticed we even slipped out as voices were raising. We made it
past the crowds past the smells of the chili and out into the hallway. fingered my cell phone in
my hand, turning it over and over.

When we got to what was once the bowling alley at Brady, now another consession
stand, turned to Julie.

"We can figure out who killed Ashley. Today, said to her, my voice a mere whisper.

Julie was way ahead of me.

"That computer. Our stolen computer. t was there the whole time, she answered.

"Buried under a pile of unfiled Meaneaters, muttered turning toward the carpeted wall.
All the walls in Brady were carpeted. Why was that? With my eyes, followed the carpet as it
ran up the wall to the ceiling. Then looked straight up at the ceiling tiles.

Julie paced around me in a tight circle, like a cat. "Let me get this straight. Ashley was
killed. Brick to the head. Case closed. Or, as Watts said, cold case closed. Everyone had a
good reason to kill her but what if she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? t is the
only thing that makes sense in that the stolen computer turns out to not be so stolen after all.

"We need to get back up there, said, staring at the ceiling. "That cord to the tower is
ripped right off. How did that happen?

Julie nodded, processing.

"That Mac was supposed to be stolen the night Ashley died. But for one reason or
another, that theft didn't happen.

"Or, it did and the person returned the hot computer!

"We need to see that murder scene again. From above.

As said that, didn't notice kept flipping my phone over and over in my hand until Julie
grabbed my hand and the phone fell to the floor. She leaned over and picked it up.

She looked at the person intended to call, all had to do was push "Send.

"Brad? She asked. "You want to call Brad? The Mutato? s that why you wanted to
come all the way out here? To see an old college boyfriend?

grabbed the phone from her. "No, of course not. But he lives in Columbia and thought
he could help us. looked up, to the ceiling. Julie looked up as well. A twinkle in her eye.

"Help us do what? Julie asked. "Get up into the heating ducts? Sasha we have spent
the better part of the last decade in kickboxing classes at the DC Sports Club. We can do this.
You can have your reunion with Brad later, Sash. 'll go up in those ducts myself.

And with that, Julie went down a dark Brady basement hallway for a few feet. Finding it
deserted she dragged over a chair to where stood and climbed up on it, and in moments pulled
herself up. Seconds later, scrambled after her.

Minutes later, we were in the crawlspace. Much more agile than we were as coeds with
still a layer of baby fat, we slid our Pilates bodies down the tight space and toward The
Meaneater editorial office. We saw a light ahead and the smell of chili had wafted through the
heating and cooling ducts. n record time we were above the editor's office, looking down.

Below us, was the editor in chief's desk as a crowd still was gathered around the found
computer. From our vantage point we could see the boxes where the computer had been all
those years. The cops never noticed it at the time of the murder---assumed it was stolen. The
focus was on why somebody wanted to kill Ashley, even though we tried to convince the cops
that it was about the Mac all along.

Someone below us, Ronnie, lifted up the computer monitor, but it slammed down on the
desk, hard.

"This thing ways a ton.

tapped Julie and whispered.

"The frayed cord.

Once again she was way ahead of me. She pointed to the editor's door.

"What if the brick, the murder weapon, was nothing at all, not even a murder weapon,
but another Kevin Blackman veiled threat?

"The cops never had anything on him. t was all circumstantial. We assumed---and never
assume cause as Dandy always said it makes an ass out of you and me---that the cops just
couldn't make a case. But what if we all missed the murder weapon the whole time. t wasn't the
brick that hit Ashley in the head, killing her. t was the computer.

nodded and then mimed someone pulling the computer up by the cord from where we
were above the desk in the heating vent. "f pulled that monitor up, 'd have to be really strong.
But even then.

"t would have been too heavy, Julie said. "And if

".The cord broke, it would have fallen on Ashley.

"And whoever did that felt bad enough to not go through with the crime. Hid the
computer. Or maybe just figured he or she would come back later to get it, and then.

paused. "And then, never did.

We looked down at the crowd of old Meaneater alums. Now knowing that one of them
was intent on stealing that computer so long ago, and killed Ashley in the process.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:06, p.m.

Sasha and had been mulling over suspects with Ronnie, the former crime beat
co-editor, when he fell into a clue inside the hideout. The space was dark, a single ray of
candlelight moving shadows.

"This is an accident waiting to happen. Ronnie picked up a thick, dirty keyboard from
under two columns of stacked cups from Harpo's and Shakespeare's. "Check out this old
computer keyboard! Turned upside down, the slanted keyboard had been used as a surface.

"What is? asked.

"That's got to be the worst idea ever! Ronnie noted, waving the keyboard around.

Sasha squealed out an expression of fright before covering her mouth with her hands.

"What? asked, confused.

"Using a slanted keyboard as a surface, Ronnie answered waving the keyboard around.

Sasha threw me a frightened look didn't understand, her eyes wide.

"t's so heavy, he added. "This must be a really old one. Look, there are keys missing.

"Yes, there's keys missing, Sasha agreed with a strained voice.

"So? Ronnie asked.

"t's the same keys, T, G and the number 5, that were missing from the stolen computer
keyboard, Sasha noted with incredulity.

"So, indeed! shouted out with a victorious smile.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:08, p.m.

remembered finding those computer keys 20 some years ago. Not knowing how
important they were. Before Julie and left for this trip, went back home to search through my
parent's basement to look for them, finding them in a milk crate full of Bloom County cartoons.

kept them. Why? Maybe to get to this point. So Julie and could finish what we started.
Solve the murder of a college coed we never bothered to get to know, but who, after having a
chance to live the 20 years she didn't get a chance to, deserved to have the truth come out?

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:09, p.m.

"t's almost as if someone wanted us to find all these parts to the computer and put them
together, Sasha said. She held the keyboard and fingered the spots of the missing keys.

"Howdy, folks! Matt had heard Sasha's squeal and climbed the ladder to come to her
rescue. He looked good in the candlelight.

"Ashley's spirit, said over the candlelight.

"When humans die a wrongful death, their spirits hang around for a while, Ronnie
suggested. "At least, that's what Arwen told me.

Suddenly, was in the mood to hear some heavy, old East Ash tune.

"But, for 20 years? Matt asked as he took a seat near the Bengal tiger bong.

" still wonder how she died, Matt appealed with a soft tone. " mean, what exactly
happened in the office below the night of the murder?

Sasha's facial expressions, her eyes wide, indicated to me she was dying to toss out her
own theory, but holding back in present company.

" still wonder why they needed my pants for evidence, Ronnie mused, missing the
humor of his own drama.

"Ronnie, one of your 501 jean buttons was found at the scene of the crime, remember?
Sasha scolded him like a child. "And a few of those black rubber bracelets you used to wear.

"Oh, yeah, he admitted with boyish guilt.

"Didn't everyone wear those? Matt questioned.

"Wasn't there also some camera film missing, though? Bolt recalled.

"Yeah, uttered.

"Film that probably had that robot music advertorial on it. She was supposed to take
pictures for it that night, Matt noted. "The film was due to KCOU the next day.

"Did she do the shoot, do you know? Ronnie asked. "Les Moore was assigned to that
story and never received them...At least that's what he told me.

"Are, are you sure? Sasha nervously enquired.

"Mark just said that... Matt didn't finish.

"Well, yeah, Rad had to pull the section, Ronnie recalled, interrupting Matt's
thought. "Production didn't get the pictures in time, partly because we had to deal with Ashley's
death. Nobody had time to take over her assignment.

"Exactly! Matt confirmed.

Sasha's brow furrowed; " just remembered. At the crime scene, the trash can was
overturned.

"So? Matt questioned.

"Cooter liked to dig through trash cans, finished Sasha's idea.

"Where were you the night of the murder, Ronnie? my partner in solving crime
unexpectedly asked. "Really?

". Ronnie stuttered. He looked over to Matt and the tiger bong for escape before the
former crime-beat editor let out a sigh of surrender.

"That was the night was raped by the witch, Ronnie let out. "Again.

"Quit with that, Ronnie, Sasha waved her left arm dismissively toward him in disgust.

"Seriously, Ronnie averted his eyes to meet a stack of worn tarot cards lying on the
floor. "She, the caped femme fatale, caught me alone behind the dumpster, behind Cool Stuff,
after Shattered closed that night.

"But, nobody saw us, there were no witnesses, Ronnie continued. " knew that account
wouldn't fly with Chief Watts. He looked up at the beamed ceiling. The candlelight hit the pale
skin of his neck. "And, knew he'd laugh at me. Mostly, because it already happened once
before.

"With all the people who linger around that corner, you saw no one? Matt begged with a
gentle tone, ready to hear more, almost wishing he had witnessed the scene.

"Only Mark speeding by on Ninth Street, Ronnie recalled, laughing as he saw it in his
mind.

"Speeding by? inquired.

"On his bike, Sasha ventured.

"Yes, Ronnie confirmed not seeing any significance.

"That must have been right before he met us at Balloon O Rama, Sasha turned to me.

"But, that doesn't make any sense, continued her line of thinking.

"He was supposed to be digging through trash at that time, behind the balloon store,
Sasha recalled. "That's where he was.

"Before you met me on the street, concluded. "After Shattered closed, Out of disbelief,
my voice repeated the time already mentioned by Ronnie.

"Yes, Sasha continued to look to me for support. "And we walked back to the
newsroom.

We paused.

"Walked? Why didn't he bring his bike back to the newsroom? Sasha asked me as Matt
and Ronnie silently listened to us think out loud.

"The bags of trash, answered.

"You carried the trash... Sasha noted to me.

"...into Brady, added.

"And later, remember, Chief Watts found his bike downtown, Sasha said. "Remember?
saw the Columbia Police Department tag on his bike in front of Shakespeare's?

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:14, p.m.

Julie, the guys and heard a noise and saw a figure shuffling toward us from the
adjoined air shaft leading to the spaces above the Media Center. squinted and then did a
double take. The figure slid over to us and crouched down near the candlelight. His freckled
face was still the same, only more lined. He had a receding hairline and looked up at us with the
kindest of smiles. He then took a puff on his inhaler. had forgotten he always had it with him. A
broken kid.

"Hey, gang! Julie and were surprised to see Les Moore. We never thought he would
come to the reunion. Last heard he was living in Berlin.

"Who are you all talking about? He asked, seeming to already know the
answer. "Ashley?

The idea of Les bringing up Ashley's name stung. remembered how he had all those
photos of her, collaged together with porn spreads, in his dorm room. thought at the time he
might have killed her, out of jealousy for marrying Bobby. But now just saw an old broken guy
who spoke with kindness. t confused me.

"We're talking about Ashley. The stolen Mac, which we found, Julie said, her voice
uncharacteristically soft.

"Ashley didn't deserve to die. Shame.

His words hung in the air for a moment. And then turned to him.

"We think whoever killed Ashley was strong enough to try to pull the computer right out
of The Meaneater offices and into this hide-out. And Ashley walked in and the cord broke and it
fell on her.

"Well, that wouldn't have been me, he said, taking another sweet puff of Proventil.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:54, p.m.

After ate another round of Alice's chili in the main newsroom, and Sasha pretended to
eat the decidedly non-vegan Missouri favorite, Bobby Benson and Mrs. Vicki Lawrence
unexpectedly emerged from the darkroom. Red lights shined onto trays of formula behind them.

Shock!

Mrs. Lawrence still looked like Ashley in her coffin in 1989. t was Bobby who had aged.
His facial coloring was sallow.

"Ah, just in time. Dandy called from the opposite corner in a clumsy attempt to steal
the spotlight from the odd couple. "Alice just brought in a fresh pot of chili from the pit outside.

"What have you two been up to? Jenny Taylor asked the couple, motioning from her
seat down low toward the darkroom.

"Adoptions, mostly, Mrs. Lawrence answered, misunderstanding the inquiry.

"Out of China, Benson added, turning to hold his lady's hand. Heads turned in wonder
as asked myself whether they were a real couple.

" just love babies, Mrs. Lawrence said with a crazed look in her eyes. "Ever since lost
my baby, Miss Ashley, 've dedicated my life to their cause. And, Bobby's been with me every
step of the way.

"Every step of the money trail, Bobby smiled as recalled him counting money during
the Berlin Wall Fall pool of 1989.

"Bobby! Mrs. Lawrence squeezed her companion's arm. "Don't disrespect babies,
especially so close to the exact place where my baby Ashley passed. Her spirit could come
back to get you. Ashley's mother sounded certain of it.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:56, p.m.

couldn't stomach the chili or Bobby and his MLF so ducked into the Media Center.
After touching the phone for a minute, lifted the receiver.

dialed the number from memory. Just like old times.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 9:58, p.m.

" never dressed as a woman in college but would have if a story warranted the act,
Juanita reasoned near the food table as looked around the newsroom for Sasha.

"t's all cool! Rad, visibly drunk, threw his arms up towards the popcorn ceiling in
surrender. "'m pro trannie! That's all 'm saying.

"'m not a trannie! Juan shouted. "'m a dedicated reporter!

Sasha reappeared from the old Media Center to meet me.

"Sasha! Her friend! You're back! our former editor in cheif turned our way to call out to
us, pretending for a moment he was just seeing us again for the first time, possibly in an attempt
to distract from his awkward moment with Juanita.

"Yes! Rad! Sasha called out to him. "Everybody, gather around. Sasha raised her arms
to cull in the crowd. "Julie and have been waiting for the right moment to share something with
you and now might be the time.

Eyes looked toward us, expectant. Sasha picked up her purse from a chair to pull out a
piece of domed silver the size of a deck of cards.

"First of all, we want to donate this ashtray to the spirit of journalism here at The
Meaneater.

"Where'd you get it? Juanita asked with interest, relieved Rad was off his back.

"Good question, Sasha pointed up towards the ceiling again. " stole it, from President
Obama's office.

Loud guffaws from around the room responded before Dandy uttered, "Sasha! How
could you?

"How did you? Ronnie asked taking a piece of gooey butter cake, impressed.

"We'll get to that later, Sasha, detracted, laid the ashtray down on the table of
food. "Right now, before it gets too late, we have a few questions to ask the staff regarding the
night of Ashley Lawrence-Benson's murder.

"Questions? Bobby flailed. "Like what?

"Like where did you get Ashley's wedding ring?

"The Piercing Bodega at the mall, he answered with ease.

"No, mean, after she was dead, Sasha countered. "When was at the crime scene that
morning, she wasn't wearing it. A couple of days later saw you at Shakespeare's with it.

", uh, Bobby stuttered as he loosened his tie.

"You had it? Mrs. Lawrence responded with fury, gooey butter crumbs spraying out her
mouth. "That chief of police told me at the funeral it was missing. How did you get it?

" can answer that, Chief Watts, wearing an apron reading 'God Bless This Mess,'
appeared from out of the Media Center holding a fresh pot of chili. All eyes followed him as he
set the fresh, steaming batch down onto a hot plate on the food table.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 10:01, p.m.

"You should tell them, Bobby, Watts said, as fatherly as always. had called him from
the Media Center. He remembered my voice and said he would come right on over.

"You should tell them Bobby, he repeated. "No shame.

Bobby looked at all of us. For a second he looked like Bobby from old. The Billy Joel
Bobby. nnocent, like a puppy dog.

"Ashley broke up with me the day she died, he said softly. "She gave me the ring back.

was stunned. looked at Julie, my eyes aflame.

" told Chief Watts, because knew if didn't it would make me look like the prime
suspect, but never told any of you because was so ashamed. That she thought our marriage
was a joke.

A sympathetic Les Moore walked over to Bobby and put his hands on his shoulders.

"No, think she did like you, but she was just young. We all were back then, he said.
They hugged.

From across the room, marched Mrs. Lawrence. She pushed the two men apart and
grabbed Bobby by the shoulders angerly.

"How dare you! she said. Her tone was ugly as she slapped Bobby across the
face. "You worm!

Chief Watts interjected. "Bobby didn't kill your daughter, ma'am. He had an alibi for that
night. He was just a jilted kid who was trying to save face.

Visibly shaken, Mrs. Lawrence moved away from Bobby and closer to Don Dandy who,
in turn, took the opportunity to put his arm around her for comfort.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 10:04, p.m.

"Rad! called out to the editor as moved away from Sasha and he leaned on the light
table, lined with half-empty liquor bottles, for drunken support.

"Yo! He lifted his heavy head.

"Wasn't The Meaneater scheduled to run an advertorial depicting album covers of future-
themed music before 1989's homecoming?

"Yes, indeedy! He raised his fist with sloshy energy.

"Was Ashley assigned to take the shots?

"Yes.

"Did it run? queried.

"No, he answered getting lost in thought.

"Why not? Sasha continued.

"Well, hmm, let's see, he stood up straight trying to sober his vision. "That was
supposed to be in volume fifty-two, issue number four, if recall correctly, right before Ashley's
funeral, the editor in chief reported with authority. "But, Ashley died. She was supposed to take
the pictures, our former boss was babbling, but he was honest, sharing thoughts
instantaneously, out loud as they popped into his intoxicated mind.

" recall she was staying in the office late to get it done. She was getting the album
covers from Matt Wilde but Matt lost the Gary Numan album..

"She had to wait for hours for me to find it. Matt turned to the floor, embarrassed as
he stood across the room from Rad near the Savitar yearbook office. " finally found the sticky
album under Les Moore's bed. winced at the thought of what else was under Les' bed as
Matt continued; " had to clean it off carefully to be camera ready. don't think she got around to
shooting that one until past midnight.

"Are you sure she conducted the shoot? Sasha pushed Rad.

"Well, no, now that think about it, our leader answered.

"Chief, did you ever find the roll of film missing from Ashley's camera? Sasha turned to
face Watts as she cut a slice of the gooey butter cake away from the whole. offered her a
spork.

"No, we didn't, Watts recalled. "At the crime scene, the camera was open but the film
was missing.

"Did we ever find out about that brick? Juanita wondered aloud.

"Charles, you're an Al Meg Man, responded. "Do you know anything about the Al Meg
brick related to the 1989 murder?

"According to Al Mega legend, Charles cleared his throat from near the Media Center
entrance, leaning off of the stat machine. All eyes turned to him with interest. "The brick was put
on the ledge of the door jamb with the intention of hitting John Radcliff on the head.

Sounds of confusion followed by shock left the lungs of a few former reporters.

"t was strung up so it would fall only on him, Charles continued.

"How? Bobby asked, perking up with interest.

"The old brothers refer to him as the editor who always slammed the door into the wall.
A few engineering brothers measured the string out to cause the brick to fall only if the door was
slammed into the wall.

"But, why?

"That don't know... Charles answered.

Lucinda raised her arms in disappointment; "What can say? My son's not a journalist.

" didn't think to ask, Charles looked to the floor.

Mark Cooter started to move quickly toward the exit of the newsroom.

"Where are you going, Cooter? shouted. He froze in his tracks.

" have a couple of more questions need to ask you, Mark, Chief Watts admitted.

"Like what? His eyes opened wide, nervous.

"Like did you kill Ashley Lawrence and take the computer? asked.

"What?! t w-w-wasn't me, Mark answered gravitating towards the hallway.

Sasha gave me a thumbs up, still holding her spork.

"How did you know she took the pictures of the albums, then? Like you told us when we
first got to this party? Sasha asked.

"Only the murderer would have known that, added.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 10:09, p.m.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Julie's accusation still hung in the air.
Like the stink of the chili.

"'m not...a...a mmmm....mmmmm....murdererer, Cooter sputtered out. "'m not even the
same kid was back in college. None of us are.

"Why did you leave your bike that night by Shattered? asked. "You, me and Julie
dragged that bag of trash back to the newsroom, but the whole time you had your bike. Which
gave you a lot of time. Time to have been in Brady Commons and then get out of Brady and
establish an alibi.

"You all think of mmmm....mmmm....me as some llllloser, Mark said, his voice
quivering. "But 'm strong now. work out. And 've mmmm....made such strides, he said.

"You were strong back then, said Julie. " remember how you pulled yourself up on the
filing cabinets the morning after Ashley died. And the pull ups in the dark room.

He seemed stunned.

"Me and Sasha saw you, she said. "And now, she and finally figured out what you did.

Saturday, October 14, 2009, 10:11, p.m.

"'m-m-m s-s-s-sorry, OK? Mark's voice sounded weak and girlish. He started to cry as
he continued to speak, two decades of emotion pouring out of him, more than willing to confess,
needing to open old wounds.

"She...she...she fell, he continued. " h-h-h-hit her and she...she...she f-f-fell.

"Hit her? Dandy was flabbergasted.

"How, Mark? Rad's voice was gentle as he approached a man morphing back into a
boy, and falling apart before our eyes.

Cooter leaned to his right and almost fell before he took hold of Jenny's wheelchair with
one hand, his shaky other hand just missing a mostly untouched dish of marshmellow-covered
yams. His body dislodged from the floor for a moment before he found his balance on his left
leg. Then, he turned away from us. His hands slapped his face.

"Who knew...knew what was happening? His words were garbled as he looked toward
the beige, popcorn ceiling above, removing his hands from his red face. "She walked into the
office and saw the computer was gone and started looking around, the computer cord dangling
from the ceiling, from the hideout, Oddly, as he relayed the past, his stutter left him again. "My
hands started to sweat. was afraid she was going to look up and see me in the crawl space.
So couldn't take it, she didn't know yet, but knew, and, and, then her head turned, she knew,
and the computer s-s-slipped out of my hands.

Mark let out a scream of agony.

"Sh, sh, Rad grabbed his former reporter from behind and hugged him hard before
mussing his hair.

n turn, Mrs. Lawrence let out a cry before Bobby rejoined her and took her shaking body
into his arms. Dandy looked disappointed.

"Breathe, Mark, Watts urged him. "Take your time.

"Th-Th-That old, heavy co...co...computer fell on her head and took her out-out, he
added with finality. " n-n-never forgave m-m-myself. He grabbed hold of his body as he peeled
away from Rad's protection and faced the wall.

" started working out my arm muscles, my legs, everything, so wouldn't have to be a
victim of weakness again! Losing his stutter again, he punched his right leg with violence.

"She trusted me, he babbled as he turned violently back around to face us. "We dug
through her first garbage can together. showed her how to steam letters open. Stepping
back from the light table, he fell into Rad's arms and wailed.

t was cool to see the old light table still in tact as Arwen turned it on from the other side,
creating a more dramatic scene before our eyes. Ronnie's mouth was open. The rest of the
group was speechless. looked around to see faces frozen in shock.

n contrast, Dandy looked on with a judgmental tone.

Was he jealous he didn't grab part of the spotlight while he had a chance? Once again,
John Radcliff V, the former boy editor, had taken over as the true leader of the newsroom just
as he always did back in 1989.

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