The Accident Curse Read online

  “Yeah. I’m going to check out your internet and see if I need to run to Oakland to buy a new router.” Oakland was the closest town with anything resembling an electronic store.

  “New router?” Dad said with a laugh. “I don’t think I have a router at all.”

  I grinned. “I brought mine from home. But I’m not sure if it’ll work with your computer.”

  “Clever boy. You want toast?”

  “Sure.”

  I put the eggs onto plates and sat down at the island, then grabbed the toast from the toaster. Dad poured us each a cup of black coffee and put the butter on the counter.

  “Looks good,” I mused. “Been awhile since I made breakfast like this. It’s easier to hit up a Starbucks.”

  “Lazy.”

  “Time is money.”

  Dad shook his head. “We don’t need to hustle around so much.”

  “Not here,” I agreed.

  “Not anywhere.”

  “You’ve spent time with me in Phoenix. You know how it is there. If you don’t move fast, or move out of the way, you get run over.”

  “It’s kinda sad.”

  “Maybe, but it’s the way it is.” I took a sip of my coffee then changed the subject. “What about you? What will you do today?”

  “I’m moving my sorry ass into the recliner and I’m not getting up until I gotta piss.”

  I barked a laugh. “Sounds like a plan.”

  After I washed the dishes—no dishwasher in this house—I went to the spare room. It was a hodgepodge of functionality. A desk with the computer on it. An ironing board set up under the window. Boxes in the closet full of my old toys and comic books. A dresser beside the door with picture frames. A murphy bed hidden out of sight in the corner. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d used it.

  I held my breath as I flipped on the computer. A few years ago, I’d sent Dad a gift card to buy a new computer for his birthday. I hoped he’d gotten a good model that wouldn’t be too out of date now.

  The internet was another concern. Not too many carriers provided service way out here in the boondocks. We’d had dial up all through high school. Some of my friends in town were able to get broadband. I’d been so envious. But now, Dad had service through a satellite dish, which also gave him access to more than the public television channels.

  I fired up the internet and checked the speed. It would do. Nowhere near what I was used to, but I could make it work.

  I spent the next few hours setting up all my equipment, including installing the router—giving me wireless access to use my laptop, and better reception on my cellphone. I hadn’t been able to get a signal since we pulled off the 219. The trees interrupted the transmission with cell towers.

  By then, it was lunch time. I went out to check on Dad and found him napping in the recliner. Rest was probably the best thing for him right now, so I left him to it and settled for a refill on my coffee.

  With nothing else to do, I got to work. Film editing had been a passion for me since Mom bought me a camera when I was nine. I played around with stop motion at first, inspired by the style used in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. The camera was the last present Mom gave me. She passed away two months later. I still had the camera at home.

  Even after Mom’s death, Dad continued to encourage me with my photography and filmmaking. He’d also been clear about his desire for me to attend school in Pittsburgh instead of trying for the Film Studies program at Arizona State. Pittsburgh may have been a viable option, but I had wanted to get farther.

  Being close to Accident was bound to keep the curse alive. There was no way—

  Damn it! The internet, as predicted, kicked me off as I downloaded a large video file. I rebooted the network connection and began the process again.

  Not ten minutes later, it did the same thing. I tried again. This time, I stayed connected for a whole fifteen minutes before it shut off. Rather than have a screaming meltdown from frustration, I decided I’d get out of the house.

  Dad was watching TV again. He glanced at me when I appeared in the doorway to the living room.

  “I’m going to go out to the market for some things. Anything I need to pick up for dinner?”

  “You can get a gallon of milk. Whole. Not the skimmed stuff. And a couple pounds of apples.”

  “What about for dinner? I’ll make us something tonight.”

  “Nah, I got everything we’ll need. The freezer in the basement is fully stocked.”

  “All right. You mind if I take your truck?”

  He wheezed a laugh. “What else are you going to drive? Just don’t crash her.”

  “I only ever did that once, Pop, and I barely dented the fender. Are you ever gonna forgive me?”

  “Never,” he answered with a smile.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Okay. Drive safe.”

  It felt like old times as I grabbed his keys off the hook beside the back door. Maybe I should look up a couple of friends from high school and see what they were up to. Dad kept in regular contact with most of their parents, but I hardly paid attention when he turned the subject to old classmates. He was naturally nosey, but my apathy came through pretty clearly. Still, it might be interesting to catch up with one or two of them. I wondered if the bar in Accident was open.

  The closest store—besides the gas station—was the market in Grantsville, about twenty minutes northeast. It was perfect for little things, and closer than the grocery stores in Oakland.

  I fired up Dad’s Tundra and backed out of the driveway. The steep slope was perilous in the winter, but perfectly manageable in the summer. I headed down the road back to the 219.

  I was amazed at how well I remembered the landscape. The few houses I spotted were familiar. Each bend or bump in the road was expected. Ten years gone and I still knew this place.

  Was that a good thing, showing off my brain’s ability to retain information, or a bad thing, that this place hadn’t evolved at all in the past decade? Were they behind the times with everything else too? If I came out, would they glare and scowl and curse?

  Doesn’t matter what they’d do, cause I won’t come out. I’ll only be here a month or two. No reason to talk to anyone about myself.

  Friday’s Fruit Market was right off the freeway at the far end of Grantsville. This town was a booming metropolis compared to Accident. Most of my friends from high school lived out this way. With only two high schools in the whole county, the boundaries were spread far and wide.

  I exited the freeway, which put me back on 219, go figure, and headed toward the market. The parking lot was relatively full and I had to park the Tundra toward the far end of the blacktop because it was so big. I’d gotten out of the habit of being comfortable behind the wheel of larger vehicles. Looked like I’d get reacquainted over the next few weeks.

  Inside the market, I grabbed a tiny basket and went to the milk and apples first. They were the only things I needed. The rest would be impulse buying, whatever I felt I might want. I got a hand full of individually wrapped caramels from their extensive candy section. A bag of Utz dill chips went next—a brand we didn’t have out in Arizona. I didn’t realize I’d missed the taste until I saw the cute smiling girl logo.

  Too bad this place didn’t sell beer or else I would had grabbed a six pack. As it was, I settled for a case of root beer instead. Maybe Dad had some ice cream and we could make floats.

  Oh God, this is so pathetic. Floats? I wasn’t sixteen anymore, and yet being home made me feel I was. If I was in Phoenix, I’d see a concert with friends, or we’d all hit up a restaurant in Scottsdale, or see a movie at the Film Bar. Here, I was reduced to wanting ice cream floats.

  There were few other options. I’d missed the fairs in July and August. The seasonal changing of trees was another two months away. No snow at the Wisp for skiing.

  Sinking to a new low, I set my items for purchase up on the checkout counter.

  “Marty Smith?”
r />   I spun in surprise and glanced at the good-looking guy behind me. No recognition, but he was covered in a thick layer of mud. At least, I hoped it was mud.

  “Uh….” I replied.

  He grinned. “I’m Colten Williams. I was a year behind you at school.”

  My surprise increased. I examined the guy, trying to spy any similarities to the kid from school. Well, besides the mud. Then I saw it, the gleam in his eyes as he continued to smile.

  “Colten,” I said with a nod. I stuck out my hand to him.

  He shook it, his lips widening more. “What are you doing back here? I thought you were gone for good.”

  “Dad broke his leg and needed an extra hand around the house. I’m here for a few weeks.”

  “I’d heard. Didn’t realize it was bad enough for him to need help.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s not too keen on admitting it himself.”

  The cashier interrupted us. “That’ll be $12.72.”

  I handed over a twenty-dollar bill and got my change.

  “Well, nice seeing you,” I told Colten.

  “Hold up. I’ll walk you out.”

  I raised an eyebrow at the request, but waited at the door for him to pay for his groceries. He hefted his paper bag into his hands and we walked out together.

  “How have you been?” he asked as we made our way toward my dad’s truck.

  “Not too bad. Not super happy now, with Dad laid up, but no complaints overall. What about you?”

  I studied him off the corner of my eye, trying to meld the image of him in the here and now to what I remembered from high school. We’d had math together my senior year—he was advanced—but since it had been first period, he often showed up late, and covered in mud. He’d been tall then, muscular from all the farm work; his physique remained the same. But then he’d been awkward and quiet, now he’d sought me out and expressed an interest in conversing.

  “Busy as always,” he answered. “We got an additional twelve sheep this summer, so it’s a lot more work.”

  “We?”

  He chuckled. “Me and my parents. Now, before you start accusing me of still living at home, I do have my own place. It’s easier to stay with them during the week.”

  “Makes sense. You still raising prize cows?”

  His eyes light up. “You remembered?”

  I laughed. “How could I not? How many times did you show up to school with pictures of your current favorites?”

  A pleased pink touched his cheeks, and he raised a hand to push back his brown hair. “Never realized anyone paid attention when I talked about them.”

  “The one I remember is Lizzie. Right? She took first in the State Fair?”

  “It was Lassie,” he corrected me gently with a grin. “But yeah. She was champion for three years.”

  We got to the Tundra and I pressed the clicker to unlock the door. I set my bag of groceries in the passenger seat, then turned my full attention to Colten.

  “I better get going. Don’t want Dad alone for long.”

  “Sure, I gotta get back to the farm too.”

  I turned to get into the truck.

  “But,” he said suddenly. “What if I give you my number and we can get together sometime? I’d like to hear how things are. Your dad said you wound up in Arizona.”

  I looked at him in surprise again. Catch up? Why on earth would he want to? We’d never been friends in the first place. But, he was quite gorgeous.

  “Sounds good.”

  I pulled out my cellphone and he rattled off his number. I saved it.

  “Give me a call when you get a free evening. I’ve never got anything goin’ on.”

  “Sure, Colten. See ya.”

  He waved and I got into the truck.

  Chapter 4

  On the drive to Dad’s, I called Rick, my best friend. I’d texted him the day before, but since the reception was impossible, I hadn’t tried to call. Here, on the open roads, it wouldn’t be a problem.

  “Marty,” Rick said when he picked up the phone. “How’s your dad?”

  “He’s doing fine, but stubborn, like most old men.”

  “How are you?”

  “Besides the internet being piss-poor, and my dad refusing to admit he needs the help, and absolutely nothing to do for fun, I’m great.”

  “It won’t be long,” he consoled. “It’ll go by quick. Will you be able to keep up with your assignments if the internet’s so slow?”

  “I’ll figure out a way. I may have to call Dad’s provider and pay an upgrade fee. Anything to keep the connection consistent. It’s taken me the whole morning to download one file.”

  “It’ll work out.”

  I rolled my eyes. Rick was an optimist. “How are things there? I’m sorry I won’t be able to attend yours and Tony’s party this weekend. Bad timing, huh?”

  “Don’t worry about us. We’ll have more than enough people without you there. But on that note, I’d heard Marco was now on the market. Too bad you won’t be able to scoop him up before someone else does.”

  I laughed, but only to keep from sobbing. I’d had my eye on Marco for the past two years. Bad timing indeed. “Put in a good word for me. How selfless I am to travel all the way across the country to help my invalid father. He’ll eat it up.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “Everything else going all right?”

  “Tony’s got a review coming up at work at the end of the week. He’s stressed. And we need to get Sammy to the vet sometime soon for shots. I can tell she misses you already.”

  “I haven’t even been gone two days. Your poodle can’t miss me.”

  “But she does.” His voice turned all soppy and sweet. “Don’t you, sweetie. You miss Uncle Marty, huh?”

  “Damn, Rick, I never thought you’d be the type to go crazy over a dog.”

  He made an affronted noise. “She’s not just a dog, Marty. Come on, you grew up in Farm Central, USA. You have to have a fondness for animals.”

  “Not even slightly. I think they’re good to have for dinner.”

  “Don’t let Sammy hear you say that, you monster.”

  “Gross, I’d never eat a dog. I bet they taste disgusting.”

  Rick harrumphed and wisely changed the subject. “If you’ve got nothing fun to do, how are you going to keep your sanity?”

  “No idea.” I sighed. “I guess I’ll catch up on reading, or start a new TV show.”

  “Don’t you have any friends you can see?”

  “You know I don’t. I lost touch with everyone right after high school. But….” I guess there was Colten.

  “What?” Rick asked, interpreting my silence for what it was. “An old boyfriend?”

  “Of course not! There was no way I could have dated anyone here. I would have been kicked out of school.”

  “Don’t exaggerate.”

  “I’m not. You don’t understand the mindset here. It’s borderline toxic on certain subjects.”

  “Then what were you thinking about if not an ex?”

  “I ran into someone who was a year younger. He gave me his number.”

  Rick made an interested noise. “Is he cute?”

  “Incredibly.”

  “You gonna call him?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You said you had nothing to do, well, here’s your answer. You should at least call.”

  “I don’t know. He’ll probably talk about farming. I might be better on my own.”

  “Only one way to find out. Give it a try. You know what I’ve heard about those farm boys.”

  “I’m one hundred percent certain he wasn’t hitting on me, Rick. Probably being polite.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Listen, I’m pulling off the freeway so I’m going to lose reception. I’ll call you later. Tell Tony hi for me.”

  “Sure thing. Bye.”

  I hung up and thought about my chance encounter with Colten. There was no way he’d been flirting. People li
ke that—like me—couldn’t last in a place like this.

  Chapter 5

  I didn’t think anything could have scared me more than waking up to Dad cursing. I was wrong.

  My eyes flew open at the unmistakable sound of Dad’s Tundra. I fell from my bed, and landed on the floor with an umph. I got to my feet, then ran down the hallway, peering into each room to make sure Dad wasn’t inside.

  Of course he wasn’t. The stubborn mule was backing out of the driveway behind the wheel of his truck.

  “Dad!” I shouted, throwing open the back door and rushing out with bare feet. The wooden floorboards of the deck dug into my skin, but I didn’t stop. I raced down the planks, holding up my hands in panic.

  “Dad!”

  He didn’t hear, or didn’t listen. He got to the end of the driveway and put the car into drive, without even a look in my direction.

  Then he was gone.

  “Fuck!”

  I hurried back into the house. In the kitchen, I grabbed Dad’s landline and found Fred’s number written on a pad by the phone. I dialed but had little hope. Sure enough, there was no answer.

  God damn him! Dad knew he wasn’t supposed to be driving. First because of his limited mobility—how was he even pushing the pedals? And secondly, his painkillers could make him the equivalent of a drunk. He could hurt himself or someone else easily.

  What could I do? I didn’t have a car. The closest taxi would come from Oakland, thirty minutes away. The damage would be done by then.

  A little light sparked in my head. Colten. He was closer. Would he be willing to help me out?

  I went to my room and unplugged my cell from the wall. I searched through the contacts until I found Colten’s number. With Dad’s landline, I dialed.

  He picked up in the first ring.

  “Hi, Colten. It’s Marty Smith.”

  “Oh hi, Marty! I’m a little surprised you called so soon. Are you bored already?”

  I would have laughed at his good-natured joke, but I was too much in a panic currently.

  “Not quite. I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor. My dad took off in his truck and I don’t have any way to track him down. He shouldn’t be driving.”