The Hayloft. A 1950s Mystery

trying to say.”
    “That sounds pretty much impossible to prove.”
    “Dr. Graves did tell me one thing. He said that he sometimes watches the boys’ swimming classes. You know, the boys swim in the nude.”
    “I know that, Gary.”
    “He mentioned your boyfriend, Sonny, specifically. He said Sonny was on the swimming team, and he had beautiful form. He liked to watch him swim.”
    When Sylvia didn’t say anything, I looked sideways at her. A tear was welling out of her eye.
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
    “No, it’s not that. Sonny…isn’t my boyfriend anymore.”
    “Oh. I’m sorry.”
    “He just finished basic training. He has a few days’ leave before he starts advanced infantry training, so he came home. When I didn’t hear from him, I called his house. He told me…he doesn’t want to see me anymore. Because of my father. He says he’s not going to Korea to risk his life for any commie bastards.”
    Tears were flowing freely down Sylvia’s face. I didn’t know what to do. I pulled a relatively clean handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to her. She took it and used it to dry her tears. It took a few minutes, but she pulled herself together and even gave me a bleak smile.
    “I didn’t mean to go to pieces in front of you. I’m all right now.”
    “It looks like the rain has stopped for a minute. This might be a good time to make a run for it.”
    ***
    Once inside the building, Sylvia went upstairs to her homeroom while I headed toward the cafeteria. As I passed the administration area, I glanced in and saw Dr. Graves standing in front of a file cabinet. He was here early. Unfortunately, he also saw me.
    “Blanchard,” he said. “Just the boy I want to see. Come on in.”
    I reluctantly walked through the doorway that separated the students’ turf from the principal’s turf and went to the counter. Dr. Graves closed a file folder he had been perusing, replaced it in the file drawer, and slid the drawer shut. He motioned for me to come around the counter and led the way into his private office. I sat at his command while he went to his desk and also took a seat. He took off his glasses, picked up a pencil, and started drumming it on the desktop.
    He looked at me for a few seconds without speaking. If he were trying to intimidate me, he was succeeding, but I returned his look. Then he silenced the pencil and said, “You’re a smart boy.”
    I assumed he wasn’t looking for an answer, so I just sat there trying to appear at ease.
    “This whole thing with Mr. Doran is unfortunate,” he continued.
    I still didn’t respond. What was he driving at?
    “It’s unfortunate that we have communists in a nice rural American town like Carter. A town that epitomizes the heartland of America.”
    He paused again as if waiting for me to say something. I determined to remain silent until he got where he was going.
    “But we will weather the storm. We beat the Nazis and the Japs, and we will defeat the communists. We will win because we live in a free country that is superior to any other form of government. One facet of that freedom is that anybody accused of a crime is innocent until proven guilty.”
    I wondered if there would be a quiz when he finished.
    “Being the child of a lawbreaker does not make one a lawbreaker.”
    I was beginning to see the light.
    “Therefore, Sylvia is deemed innocent of any crime and has a right to continue her education here at Carter High.”
    I wanted to point out that Mr. Doran had neither been convicted nor even accused of any crime. But the coward in me kept me quiet.
    “But there is such a thing as guilt by association. I know that you have been driving Sylvia to and from school. You’ve also been eating lunch with her.”
    Here it comes.
    “I had a long talk with your father before I admitted you to Carter High. We touched on many subjects, including the communist conspiracy. We were in remarkable agreement about that. I wonder what Thomas Blanchard would think if he knew you were consorting with the daughter of a known communist.”
    I gathered that my spying days were over. The game had changed. Now the objective was to isolate Sylvia.
    ***
    I ate lunch with two boys from my math class. They were not political and accepted me without question. I glanced at the table in the far corner several times. Sylvia was there, with Barney and Ed and a couple of girls. I was conspicuous by my absence. At least, that’s the way it looked to