"How'd you know I was here?" Kevin asked. "I know you and Christmas trees," Kate said as she rubbed a tear out of her eye. "I guess this is the bigge… - Todd Strasser

Anyone looking for simple black-and-white answer to the problem of school violence involving guns will not find it here. Like Beth Bender and Dick Flanagan, I have no one answer. But I do have suggestions: The manufacture, importation, and possession of all semiautomatic assault-type weapons should be banned. The sale of handguns should be restricted to the military and law enforcement agencies. Children should be taught from the earliest age to respect one another's differences. Schools should enact zero tolerance for teasing. Students' achievements off the field should be valued as highly as those on the field.

"Tell me the truth, Henry," she said. "Tell me what happened the night Richard died. "Don't you know?" Henry asked innocently. "I'd like to hear it from you," Susan said. "I was downstairs playing..." he began. Susan knew he was lying. She knew by the tone of voice he used. He used it every time he'd lied to her, and he'd lied to her many times. "Don't lie to me," she snapped angrily. "I'm sick and tired of your lying." She found herself shaking him by his shoulders. "Henry, tell me the truth: Did you kill Richard?" Henry pulled away and regarded her coolly. It was a look that was unnatural in a boy of his age. "So what if I did?"

"Come on," she said. "Let's go home." They turned and started back toward the house. Mark carried the dead brown flowers. Susan carried her memories and grief. Behind them they left Henry and the tombstone, which read: HENRY EVANS
1981-1993
WITHOUT DARKNESS
THERE CAN BE NO LIGHT