Summary Report #1
So what do we have at this point, reader? Have you been keeping track? Let’s run through it togther.
We have young Amber Bach, last seen at a place known only as “the club,” wearing an expensive dress splattered with blood from Tim Dopkowski’s head. Matt slipped on the stairs at the high school and cracked his head on the second step from the bottom. What did he slip in? A gob of spit, that we know. A gob of spit that Amber had seen another boy lob.
We don’t know Tim’s fate, do we? Is he dead? Alive? Time, perhaps, will tell.
And what of Tim, the non-smashed-head version? We think we have an idea of him, but let’s find out. We know he claims to love words, or at least to count them all the time. How one could be so obsessed with words and not love them is beyond me, so I suspect a harboring affection, perhaps of the romantic persuasion. But maybe later we analyze Tim; now, let’s continue the re-cap.
Tim who counts the words. What else do we know?
And that boy in the Kmart; is that Tim, as well? Can you remember? Did you tell me that one? Well good grief, why can’t you just remind me, then. Your overly sensitive nature is really a roadblock to your recovery.
Okay, so there’s Tim the word boy, and Amber. And the boy in the Kmart, and the mysterious person on the other side of the aisle. And we know that Amber has a stepfather who she feels hates her, and a natural father who named her for beer and reportedly bragged about this fact until his recent and unfortunate death, of which Amber does not speak. Yet.
We know that Amber has mentioned a little sister, Tina, but at other times has alluded to be an only child, or at least the only one living with her mother and stepfather.
What else? Let’s see. Ah yes, here we go. The church part.
Amber does not like church, which she attends weekly with her mother and stepfather. Sometimes her grandmother comes along, and Amber hates this most of all, though she does not explain why. She mentions being “hung over” in church, so we can safely assume that teenaged Amber Back parties with alcoholic beverages, at least on occasion.
We know that Amber was considered a slut in her neighborhood from a rather young age, a fact which she feels arose from the malicious rumors of a lady on her street. Michelle. Fine, okay. The incident that started the rumors was a night that Amber’s friend down the street, Candy, was babysitting for Michelle’s children. Amber went to visit Candy while she babysat, and apparently Michelle’s husband—who has gone unnamed—came home, and it was reported that Amber was flirtatious with him. A report which she has denied, but refuses to talk about in any detail.
In high school, Amber began to earn her reputation, it would seem, though we know little about that at this time.
What else?
Ah yes. Most recently, we have learned of the girl in the mental institution. Or, we assume that she is a girl; I’m not sure a name or details have been given. She seems a frustrated character, locked in and pessimistic, with little access to or willingness to explore the questions to which she is not certain of answers. I feel this may be key.
Okay, I think that about sums it up. I trust we will have more information at next week’s status meeting, and I look forward to discussion. I welcome all of you to bring your thoughts and comments on this most intriguing case.
Amber decides it’s time to go and picks up her bag from the floor. Ricky has been pushing her around for ten minutes, and the last shoved landed her head into a doorknob. She stands up, wipes away some blood from her lip, and looks at Ricky. He’s coming back from the bar with a fresh beer. Two fresh beers: one for Amber. That means it’s make-up time, and she’s his girl for the night. The physical trouble has created a bond between them now, one that is impossible to ignore and dangerous to blow off. The intimacy the bloody lip and bashed head have created between her and Ricky is more palpable than any sex would later, or even breakfast together in the morning, if he decided to be that nice. If Amber abandons him now, and he catches her, he might kill her. Depends how many shots are in him.
But she decides to leave. Decides she has to. This is the end of the road, right here in the club. It’s been a shitty road, a stupid road, a road to worse than nowhere. And Amber decides to get the fuck off and wander out into the wilderness, either to die, or to pat down her own trail.
We have young Amber Bach, last seen at a place known only as “the club,” wearing an expensive dress splattered with blood from Tim Dopkowski’s head. Matt slipped on the stairs at the high school and cracked his head on the second step from the bottom. What did he slip in? A gob of spit, that we know. A gob of spit that Amber had seen another boy lob.
We don’t know Tim’s fate, do we? Is he dead? Alive? Time, perhaps, will tell.
And what of Tim, the non-smashed-head version? We think we have an idea of him, but let’s find out. We know he claims to love words, or at least to count them all the time. How one could be so obsessed with words and not love them is beyond me, so I suspect a harboring affection, perhaps of the romantic persuasion. But maybe later we analyze Tim; now, let’s continue the re-cap.
Tim who counts the words. What else do we know?
And that boy in the Kmart; is that Tim, as well? Can you remember? Did you tell me that one? Well good grief, why can’t you just remind me, then. Your overly sensitive nature is really a roadblock to your recovery.
Okay, so there’s Tim the word boy, and Amber. And the boy in the Kmart, and the mysterious person on the other side of the aisle. And we know that Amber has a stepfather who she feels hates her, and a natural father who named her for beer and reportedly bragged about this fact until his recent and unfortunate death, of which Amber does not speak. Yet.
We know that Amber has mentioned a little sister, Tina, but at other times has alluded to be an only child, or at least the only one living with her mother and stepfather.
What else? Let’s see. Ah yes, here we go. The church part.
Amber does not like church, which she attends weekly with her mother and stepfather. Sometimes her grandmother comes along, and Amber hates this most of all, though she does not explain why. She mentions being “hung over” in church, so we can safely assume that teenaged Amber Back parties with alcoholic beverages, at least on occasion.
We know that Amber was considered a slut in her neighborhood from a rather young age, a fact which she feels arose from the malicious rumors of a lady on her street. Michelle. Fine, okay. The incident that started the rumors was a night that Amber’s friend down the street, Candy, was babysitting for Michelle’s children. Amber went to visit Candy while she babysat, and apparently Michelle’s husband—who has gone unnamed—came home, and it was reported that Amber was flirtatious with him. A report which she has denied, but refuses to talk about in any detail.
In high school, Amber began to earn her reputation, it would seem, though we know little about that at this time.
What else?
Ah yes. Most recently, we have learned of the girl in the mental institution. Or, we assume that she is a girl; I’m not sure a name or details have been given. She seems a frustrated character, locked in and pessimistic, with little access to or willingness to explore the questions to which she is not certain of answers. I feel this may be key.
Okay, I think that about sums it up. I trust we will have more information at next week’s status meeting, and I look forward to discussion. I welcome all of you to bring your thoughts and comments on this most intriguing case.
Amber decides it’s time to go and picks up her bag from the floor. Ricky has been pushing her around for ten minutes, and the last shoved landed her head into a doorknob. She stands up, wipes away some blood from her lip, and looks at Ricky. He’s coming back from the bar with a fresh beer. Two fresh beers: one for Amber. That means it’s make-up time, and she’s his girl for the night. The physical trouble has created a bond between them now, one that is impossible to ignore and dangerous to blow off. The intimacy the bloody lip and bashed head have created between her and Ricky is more palpable than any sex would later, or even breakfast together in the morning, if he decided to be that nice. If Amber abandons him now, and he catches her, he might kill her. Depends how many shots are in him.
But she decides to leave. Decides she has to. This is the end of the road, right here in the club. It’s been a shitty road, a stupid road, a road to worse than nowhere. And Amber decides to get the fuck off and wander out into the wilderness, either to die, or to pat down her own trail.
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