NOT 'REALITY TV,' BUT DEADLY REALITY

When the news reports "a drug deal turned sour," everyone understands.
Somebody was trying to buy drugs from somebody, and the money wasn't right
or the drugs weren't right or the seller or the buyer tried to cheat each
other. Anyway, somebody ends up dead. Dealing drugs is a dirty business.
People die. No big deal.

Today, sour drug deals are so common they blur into background noise.
Occasionally, however, a case occurs that we can't ignore. A week ago
Friday, Royal Palm Beach High School student Aaron Lauter, 17, went
missing. He was found near a housing project, shot once between his right
eye and the bridge of his nose, the killer would say.

Perhaps because of the victim's identity or the location of his wound, we
are now focused. Somehow, a fatal shot to the victim's face makes the perps
seems more atrocious. We want to reverse the plot to put Aaron back on
campus, or at least give him a flat tire so he would miss this rendezvous
with death.

By Tuesday, sheriff's deputies had learned that the student arranged a
meeting to buy $500 worth of marijuana from Octavious G. Wade, 18, and
Lawrence Walker, 24. The naive buyer arrived armed with his pit bull. The
dealers, both of whom have extensive criminal records, came armed with
handguns. It was no contest, especially since Aaron tied his pit bull to a
fence to assure the dealers they could trust him. Convinced, they rode with
Aaron in his 1983 Cutlass to another site, where they robbed him of his
wallet and pager and took his car.

After shooting the boy, Wade went on a desperate crime spree Sunday and
Monday. Seems he had an urgent bill to pay. He owed Walker $5,000, a debt
that Aaron's money had repaid only partially. Obviously, the drug business,
though highly profitable, requires an influx of outside cash from time to
time. Would-be players continually have to find new sources. Just like on TV.

This story could be a melodrama, tragedy or dark comedy. Depending upon the
focus of the director, we could be made to laugh or cry -- or both.

But this stunningly atrocious story of modern mayhem is not Entertainment
Tonight. It's reality. Hence, we are stunned, confounded by such a
senseless waste of human life. Teenagers who go off to school each morning
are not supposed to be engaged in a drug deal by midafternoon. The beepers
they carry are supposed to be an innocent fad that allows them to stay in
contact with friends and family.

Even if good kids occasionally stray from the straight and narrow, it's
supposed to be a lark they'll look back on and laugh about. Everyone knows
a little youthful "experimenting" is to be expected in this day and age.
Why else would our popular culture be chock-a-block full of jokes about
weed, mind you, definitely not to be confused with hard-core drugs and
strung-out addicts who live in a netherworld that society has written off.

Aaron Lauter's death in the afternoon reminds us that the worlds of drugs
as innocent fun and drugs as serious business are fruits of the same
poisonous tree. Showing benign tolerance of one while penalizing the other
is not a sane option. But that is what we have chosen to do. Our children
know it, which is why this case roils in our gut.

It's time to roll the final credits. Monday morning, school district
counselors were at Royal Palm Beach High to talk with grieving students.
Wednesday morning, his parents held Aaron's funeral. Wade and Walker have
been charged with first-degree murder and armed robbery. This story's over.

But before we leave this theater of the absurd, we should take a long look
at the other players, the customers who were waiting to purchase Aaron's
newly acquired stock. They are probably the really cool kids who think they
know what's happening and are unlikely to be convinced otherwise. After the
crying and the hugging and the ritual bringing of flowers, few of these
youngsters will comprehend that they, too, played major roles. They helped
make Aaron Lauter "the man" -- just like on TV.