The Accident

Kelly was on her feet. “You have to count to five hundred. And not five, ten, fifteen, twenty, but one, two, three-”

“That’s too much. A hundred.”

“But not fast,” she stressed. “Not one-two-three-four but one, two, three-”

“Okay! Go! Go!”

Kelly, phone firmly grasped in her fist, tore out of the room. She ran down the hallway, wondering where to hide. She looked quickly into the bathroom, but there really wasn’t anywhere good there. If she was home, she could stand in the tub and draw the curtain across, but the Slocums had a shower with a glass door. She opened a door that turned out to be a linen closet, and the shelves came out too far to squeeze in.

She opened another door and saw a bed the same size as the one her parents slept in, although now her dad had the whole thing to himself. The spread was off-white and there were tall wooden posts at all four corners. This had to be Mr. and Mrs. Slocum’s room. It had its own bathroom, but again, the shower-the best place to hide-had a glass door, and the tub was wide open without a curtain.

Kelly ran across the room and opened the closet. It was jammed with hanging clothes, and the floor was littered with shoes and purses. Kelly stepped in, nestling herself into the shirts and dresses that enveloped her. She didn’t shut the door all the way. She left a two-inch gap so that when Emily came in, she’d be able to film her poking about the room. And then, when she opened the door, Kelly would scream, “Surprise!”

She wondered if Emily would wet her pants.

She tapped her phone and the screen illuminated. She activated the camera function and pressed the video icon.

Her foot nudged against something. She thought it was a purse. Something inside it jangled. Kneeling, she reached her hand in, felt what she thought had made the sound, and took it out.

She heard some motion. Through the crack, she saw the bedroom door open.

She tucked the item down into her front pocket. She kept her phone in her hand.

It wasn’t Emily coming into the room. It was her mother. It was Ann Slocum.

Kelly thought, Uh-oh.

She wondered whether she’d get in trouble for hiding in the woman’s closet. So she kept very still as Emily’s mother came around the bed and sat on the edge. She reached for the phone on the bedside table and punched in a number.

“Hey,” she said, holding the receiver close to her mouth. “Can you talk? Yeah, I’m alone… okay, so I hope your wrists are okay… yeah, wear long sleeves until the marks go away… you were wondering about next time… can do Wednesday, maybe, if that works for you? But I have to tell you, I’ve got to get more for… expenses and-hang on, I’ve got another call, okay, later-Hello?”

Kelly wasn’t getting even half the conversation, what with Mrs. Slocum whispering so much. She listened, holding her breath, petrified she’d be discovered.

“Why are you calling this… my cell’s off… not a good time… kid’s got someone sleeping… Yeah, he is… but look, you know the arrangement. You pay and… something in return… mark us… down for a new deal if you’ve got something else to offer.”

Ann Slocum paused, glanced toward the closet.

Kelly suddenly felt very frightened. It was one thing, hiding in a friend’s mother’s closet. That might make Mrs. Slocum angry. But hearing her private conversations, that might really make her mad.

Kelly dropped her arms to her sides and held them rigid, soldierlike, as though this might magically make her thinner, less noticeable. The woman started talking again.

“Okay, where do you want to do this… yeah, got it. Just don’t be stupid… end up with a bullet in your brain-what the-”

Ann Slocum was looking right into the crack now.

“Hang on a sec, there’s someone-what the hell are you doing in there?”

FIVE

I was sitting, having a beer, looking at the framed picture on my desk of Sheila and Kelly winter before last, bundled up against the cold, snow on their boots, wearing matching pink mitts. They were standing in front of an assortment of Christmas trees, the one on the far left the one we eventually chose to bring home and set up in the living room.

“They’re calling her Boozer,” I said. “Just thought you should know.” I held a hand up to the picture, warding off any imagined rebuttals. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear a damn thing you have to say.”

I drew on the bottle. This was only my first. It was going to take a few more to get where I wanted to be.

It was lonely in the house without Kelly. I wondered if I’d be able to sleep when it came time to hit the sack. I usually found myself getting up around two, coming down to the living room and turning on the TV. I dreaded going upstairs, sleeping in that big bed by myself.

The phone rang. I snatched the receiver off its cradle. “Hello.”

“Hey, Glenny, how’s it going?” Doug Pinder, my second in command at Garber Contracting.

“Hey,” I said.

“What are you doin’?”

“Just having a beer,” I said. “I dropped Kelly off a little while ago at a sleepover. First night here without her, since.”