When Harry arrived at the party, a maddening hour late, Polly ran to him through the open gate between the front and back yards, intending to have him help with the whole oyster shit show, get Maude off gimlets and on to something lighter, run interference in family squabbles. Harry nodded but walked on, and in hindsight, he had the look of a bad fairy arriving in a Brothers Grimm story. He crooked his finger to Graham through the open gate in the six-foot wood fence, and Graham, possibly thinking he was getting sprung, put down a mauled oyster and walked through. The gate swung shut and a moment later shook. Polly ran to open it and they all watched Harry punch Graham a second time and Graham rake at Harry’s hand with the oyster knife. Harry howled and hit Graham again. Blood everywhere, blood flying out of Harry’s hand and Graham’s nose as Harry threw Graham back into the yard, hard. Ned pinned Graham’s arm, and Polly stepped onto Graham’s outstretched hand with the back of her right heel.

Drake picked the knife up and shut the gate, cocooning them in a private coliseum.

The crowd was surprised by all of it, attentive and ready for more, but the thrill was gone for Polly, because Harry kept repeating, “You threw her jacket away, you cruel, controlling fuck. Did you hit her? Why was there blood on it?” He stood over Graham. “What happened to her hands?”

“She caught the kayak rope. I tried to pull her in,” said Graham, climbing to his feet.

More blood flooded down Harry’s arm as he smacked Graham to the ground again. Harry was no bigger than Graham; it was all coordination, a cat on a drunken rabbit. “How? I thought you were in the fucking water. You said you both fell in.”

“I went in after I tried to pull her in. I threw her the rope. I tried to pull her in.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I wasn’t strong enough. Because I failed. Would you want to admit that?” He spat it out through a bloody mouth.

“I wouldn’t want to admit anything that goes on in your fucking insect mind,” said Harry. “What happened to her face? What happened earlier? What happened on the island?”

“We fucked.”

Harry kicked him, then knelt next to him and whispered in his ear. Graham hissed something back and Harry put his bleeding hand over Graham’s mouth and held it there until Graham started choking, blowing blood out of his nose.

“I talked to your uncle. You knew that girl you ran over in Seattle, didn’t you? You fucking meant to hit her, didn’t you?”

Ned wrenched Harry backward.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” Drake said to Graham.

“I want a ride to the hospital,” said Graham.

“Get in my fucking car,” said Drake.