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wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d seen many detectives unable to leave their children alone for even a moment because of the things they saw everyday.
    He rose and walked up the stairs. The noises were coming from Mathew’s bedroom. Stanton knocked on the door. “Hey, bud, you on the phone?”
    Stanton distinctly heard two voices and one was female. He opened the door. Mathew was lying with his shirt off, the moonlight illuminating his sunburned skin. A lump was in the bed next to him, loosely covered by sheets. Her feet were sticking out from the bottom. The scene was so ridiculous that Stanton felt like laughing, but knew he couldn’t.
    “Tell her to get dressed and go home, Matt. We need to talk.”
    Stanton went down to his own bedroom and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He thought about what to say to his son. That he himself had been right where he was.
    Stanton remembered living in a shack on the beach after high school. He would surf all day and spend his nights with the most lovely girl he had ever known. He couldn’t remember her name now and it bothered him. She wasn’t beautiful by conventional standards, but an innocence and vitality radiated out of her like the sun.
    One day she disappeared and he never saw her again. It wasn’t unusual. At least twenty surfer bums were in that house, and people packed up and left everyday. But she hadn’t said goodbye. He wondered if it was because she knew it would hurt him. He had fallen hard.
    Often, he thought about her and wondered where she was.
    He did this at around Matt’s age, but he also knew sex was a weapon that could lead to destruction. One of the best men Stanton had ever known was now HIV-positive because of a reckless night. He would die for a few minutes’ pleasure.
    Stanton wasn’t sure how to get this across in a way Mathew would relate to and understand. He heard whispering and footsteps. He rose and went to his window. A girl with long hair was walking to a car on the curb. She got in and left.
    Stanton went out and saw Mathew on the couch. His son picked up the remote and turned on the television.
    “Turn off the TV. We need to talk, Matt.”
    Matt rolled his eyes and sighed. He turned off the television and leaned back into the couch. “Is this where you lecture me on teen sex?”
    “I don’t want to lecture you. I trust you, and you don’t need a lecture from me. But what you did was dangerous. Reckless. And you did it in my house next to your little brother’s room?” Stanton paused. “Was this the first time?”
    Mathew didn’t say anything.
    “Matt, was this the first time?”
    “No.”
    “How many girls?”
    He shrugged and tapped the remote against his thigh. “I dunno.”
    “Well, think hard.”
    “Four, I guess.”
    Stanton had to suppress a gasp. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Here?”
    “No, she was the first one in Hawaii. The rest were back home.”
    Stanton stared at his carpet. No lights were on, and the moonlight cast shadows across the floor and walls. “Did you use protection?”
    “I dunno.”
    Stanton rose and grabbed Mathew’s arm. “Did you use protection?”
    Mathew ripped his arm away. “No, all right! It sucks.”
    A breeze was blowing outside and scraping a tree branch against a window in the kitchen. Anger coursed through Stanton as he listened to it. “How could you do that? Are you crazy?” he shouted.
    “Mom told me about the stuff you did when you were my age. You can’t judge me.”
    “I’m your father. I can do what I want. How could you be so stupid?”
    “Please, Dad. I know the girls are clean. This girl’s never even been with another guy.”
    “They all say that, Matt. Do you know what could happen to you? Forget pregnancy, do you know the diseases you could get? Do you want to die because of ten minutes in the sack?”
    Mathew rose. “I’m going out.”
    “No, you’re not,” Stanton said, stepping in front of him.
    “Get the hell out of my