* * *

When the fateful day arrived, I think it must have been a Saturday, the May sky was blue with a radiant glow and the daffodils were dancing. Marti picked me up at half past two and we drove to the other side of town together. I noticed Marti’s hands were wet and slid all over the wheel every time she turned. I spun the volume wheel until the radio was loud enough to make dogs bark. Somehow Taylor Swift’s dramatic relationship rantings made the flow of conversation easier. I hummed along to the annoying tune and talked school nonsense.

  “Did you finish the story assignment for creative writing?”

Marti shook her head. Her eyes were on the road, but her mind was somewhere so far away that I couldn’t follow. I kept a lookout for traffic and potential road hazards, but we seemed to be the only car on the road. Literally on the other side of the tracks, the road was full of potholes.

  “Did you?”

I jumped. It had been a full five minutes since I’d asked the question and I’d given up waiting for an answer.

  “Oh. No. I started it. But I think I’m going to start over, ‘cause I have a better idea.”

  “Cool. What’s it about?”

  “I’m not sure exactly. Two friends maybe. I want it to be a happy story. Everybody’s been writing sad things lately and I feel like being different.” I smiled, reflecting on my idea. “What are you going to write about?”

  Marti motioned to the sheet of paper in my hand. According to Google Maps’ directions we were only a block away.

  “I think maybe I’ll write about something silly. Like a story about me and Leroy. You know, a girl and her puppy having adventures.” I tried not to sigh. Lately Marti’d been slacking on her creativity. But stress does that.

 “Sounds fun. Take the next right.” I directed, feeling my pulse like a war drum in my wrists.

  “Ok.” She spun the car around and slammed on the breaks. A cat was strolling complacently across the street. It looked scrawny and starved. And mean. I swallowed. In the yard of the house adjacent to us three really dirty and wild looking kids played with a hose. They stared at us as we passed.

Living in a neighborhood like this could make a person crazy. I thought.

 “Which one is it?” Marti asked.

 “13088. 14B. There.”

 We spied the number on a small gray house and Marti eased the Honda up to the curb.

 “Well here we are.” I said way too cheerfully. “You ready?” Again, she nodded breathlessly. “Well ok then.” I clambered out of the deep seat and slammed the door. The sound shattered the air, and made my heart skip a beat. We walked up the steps, me in the lead and Marti trailing behind. I rang the bell.

 

After that, a cloud of calm settled in around me and we waited.