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“I don’t know” Bubba yawned “I was stealing hubcaps back then, so I was probably just out of the crib We were maybe, like, eleven or twelve Probably seventy-four or-five Right around busing, yeah”

“And my father and Jack Rouse…”

“Were the leaders And then there was, like, leuy alore a tie, didn’t live in the neighborhood long, and like, oh yeah, to caps off Paul Burns’s car and they’re putting the boots toit I mean, Christ”

“Who were the women?” I said “Bubba?”

“Emma Hurlihy and Diedre Rider You believe that? A couple of chicks kicking my ass Crazy world Huh?”

“Gotta go, Bubba Call you soon Okay?”

I hung up and dialed Bolton

28

“What did these people do?” Angie said

We were standing over her coffee table with Bolton, Devin, Oscar, Erdha down at copies of a photo Fields had acquired by waking the editor of The Dorchester Cohborhoods since 1962

The photo was froroups the week of June 12, 1974 Under the headline NEIGHBORS WHO CARE, the article gushed about the daring exploits of the EEPA, as well as the Adahborhood Watch in Neponset, the Savin Hill Coainst Crime, and the Ashmont Civic Pride Protectors

My father was quoted in the third colu firemen know is that you have to stop a fire in the low floors, before it gets out of control”

“Your old man had a feel for the sound bite,” Oscar said “Even back then”

“It was one of his favorite sayings He’d had years of practice with it”

Fields had blown up the photo of the EEPA members and there they stood on the basketball court of the Ryan Playground, trying to look mean and friendly at the same time

My father and Jack Rouse were kneeling at the center of the group, on either side of an EEPA sign with shamrocks in the upper corners They both looked like they were posing for football cards, as if eround, opposite hands holding up the sign

Behind the a tie, followed froht by Diedre Rider, Emma Hurlihy, Paul Burns, and Terry Climstich

“What’s this?” I said and pointed at a tiny bar of black to the right of the photo

“The photographer’s name,” Fields said

“Can we et a look at it?”

“I’m ahead of you, Mr Kenzie”

We turned and looked at him

“Diandra Warren took that photograph”

She looked like death

Her skin was the color of white fored by wrinkles

“Tell me about the Edward Everett Protection Association, Diandra Please,” I said

“The what?” She stared at me with bleary eyes As she stood beforeat someone I’d known in youth but hadn’t seen in several decades, only to discover that time had not only worn her down, but had laid waste to her without mercy

I placed the photograph on the bar in front of her

“Your husband, my father, Jack Rouse, Emma Hurlihy, Diedre Rider”