Strange Highways

picnic hampers. Sunbathers lounged on big beach towels on the lawns, and games of volleyball were under way.
     The Olympic-size municipal pool was full of screaming, splashing children. A lifeguard was posted at each end, on a raised chair, and half a dozen admiring teenage girls were gathered at each station, hoping to be noticed.
     Ben led Glenda through the flesh market and introduced himself to Martin Cable.
     The lifeguard was lean and muscular. He had a lot of long dark hair, but his face was as beardless as that of a much younger boy.
     "Sure, me and Mike were buddies," he said when Ben asked him about Karnes. "What's it to you?"
     " I don't think the cops are doing enough to nail the killer, and I don't like the idea of some lunatic running around with a grudge against me."
     "Why should I care?"
     "Your friend was killed." '
     "Everybody dies. Don't you watch the evening news?"
     Because Cable was wearing mirror sunglasses, Ben couldn't see the teenager's eyes. He found it unnerving to watch his twin reflections in those silvered lenses and be unable to tell for sure whether Cable's attention was focused on him, on the parade of girls, or on the swimmers in the pool.
     "I wasn't there when it happened," Cable said, "so how could I know anything that would help?"
     Glenda said, "Don't you want Mike's killer to be caught?"
     Because Cable didn't move a fraction of an inch or even tilt his head one degree to answer her, it was obvious that behind his mirror glasses, his attention was already on Glenda. "Whatever happens," he said cryptically.
     "We talked to Louise Allenby," Chase said.
     "Entertaining, huh?"
     "You know her?"
     "Pretty much."
     "She said maybe Mike had some trouble with a guy a while ago."
     Cable didn't reply.
     Ben said, "She thinks this guy made a pass at him."
     Cable frowned. "Mike, he was your fundamental pussy hound."
     "I don't doubt that."
     "Man, he didn't even get laid till he was halfway through his junior year, and then once it happened, he just went nuts for it. Couldn't keep his mind on anything else."
     Ben looked around uneasily at the teenage girls vying for the lifeguard's attention. Some were as young as fourteen or fifteen. He wanted to tell Cable to watch his language - but that would mean the end of their conversation.
     "You know his parents," Cable said, "you can see why Mike would go off the deep end over something - pussy, drugs, booze, something just to prove he was alive."
     "I've never met his folks," Ben said.
     "Ma and Pa Tightass. He just sort of broke loose, all at once. After that, his grades dropped. He wanted to get into State, but he wasn't going to make it if he didn't pull up his grade-point average. No college deferral. Hello, Vietnam."
     Screams rose from the pool. They could have been the shrieks of a hyperkinetic child at play or the frantic cries of a drowner. Marty Cable didn't turn to see which. He still seemed to be focused on Glenda.
     "Physics was his worst subject. He had to get a tutor Saturdays. The guy was a sleaze."
     "This was who made the pass at him?" Glenda asked. "The tutor?"
     "Tried to convince Mike there was nothing wrong with swinging both ways. Mike got another tutor, but this guy kept calling him."
     "You remember the name?"
     "No."
     "Not even the first name?"
     "No. Mike, he got another tutor, passed physics. But you stop and think about it, what was all the trouble for? He's never going to go to State after all, is he? He might've been better off just forgetting about physics and screwing his brains out. Better use of what time he had left."
     "With that attitude, then what's the point of doing anything?" Glenda asked.
     "Is no point," Cable said, as if he thought she was agreeing with him. "We're all meat." To Chase, he said, "You know how things really are - you were in Nam," as if he himself understood the horrors of the war thanks to his monthly subscription to Rolling Stone. "Hey, you know how many nuclear bombs the Russians have aimed at us?"
     "A lot," Chase said, impatient with the boy's cynicism.
     "Twenty thousand," Cable said. "Enough to kill every one of us five times over."
     "I'm not too worried until it's