Joel Richter slammed his car door. Then he slammed the house door. “Your mother is sleeping.” His fathers voice hissed from the living room loud enough to compete with the blaring TV set.
Joel entered to the same sight that he entered to everyday. His Father, sitting in front of the TV, history channel on and a stack of papers to grade on the coffee table in front of him.
“Sorry.” Joel said taking a seat on the couch.
“So what’s eating you kid?” his dad asked.
“Just this jerk that cut right in front of me off road five. If I hadn’t been slowing down to turn we would have wrecked.”
“But you didn’t. That’s what I’ve been always telling you. You watch out for yourself. As long as you aren’t at fault the other guys insurance will cover it.”
“It was weird. I had the right of way but this truck it was like the driver couldn’t even see me. It was stopped. Stopped like it was going to let me go but then she just pulled out in front of me. Slowly, as if the intersection was empty, in no big hurry.”
“It figures. There are a lot of Crazy Drivers. You’ve got to watch out for them.”
“I know Dad,” Joel said. He stared at the TV and then decided that it would be better to change the subject, “So have you made any progress on your book?”
“No,” his father said placing the paper he had been reading back down on top of the pile. “I gave up. This morning I deleted everything from my computer and I threw away the rest of it.”
Joel looked at his father with a look of horror. “What, Why, How could you do that?”
“Because your mom was right. If the story isn’t true then there’s nothing to find except a pile of historical anecdotes and bizarre coincidences.” His Father paused and took a deep breath, “and if the story is true then it’s not for us to find out about.”
© This story and subsequent parts are my own original idea and are protected under United States copy right law.
C. O. Bonham 