“

Good Behavior

Prologue

They were the perfect crimes, or they would have been. They were as perfect as a crime could possibly be if the criminal got caught. They were bad enough to warrant the death penalty, but good enough to make a pretty damn interesting story. And I’m glad I at least have a typewriter to share this mostly unknown tale.
This is the story of Fritz Redder, a person whom everyone either thought they knew or wanted to know. It begins in the middle and ends at the end. The beginning will take care of itself eventually.
Me, I’m a rather big fan of Redder. It’s evident by how much I know about the guy. First, I know his real name isn’t Fritz (it’s Wilford). And I know for a fact that he has MPD. I even know why he didn’t get a chance to plea for insanity. But we can touch that subject later, when the time comes.
Now that we are acquainted, the story can begin. But, as I stated before, it won’t be at the very beginning.

Chapter 1

This story begins on March 30, 2001, Wilford Arnold Redder’s (known by his friend and family as “Will” ever since he was 9) 19th birthday. This was the day I met him, but I also know a lot about his past.
It was a spectacular bash complete with pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and Twister and, surprisingly, no piñata. Will didn’t mind much. He would have if more people came, but the only non-family member there understood that Will’s mother kept him in a perpetual state of childhood.
His name was Lyman Harbick and he was Will’s one and only friend. Will failed Kindergarten the first time around and was outcast by his classmates. That was, except for Lyman, who wore thick glasses, which was peculiar for his age and at a time when wearing glasses meant you needed to be bullied. And the pair stuck together ever since – even after Lyman joined clubs and became more socially accepted and Will didn’t join any clubs and became less socially accepted.
Lyman didn’t mind as Will’s mother, Mittie, span him around and around with a red bandana covering his eyes. He didn’t mind that he was the only one there, other than the birthday boy, Mittie, and her grandmother Tressa. And he didn’t mind that he had to buy two gifts for Will: one that he could open in front of his mother and the other he had to open at school (a piece of paper he printed out with a username and password thanking him for paying for unlimited access to a certain pornography website). The party itself was actually fun.
Will was unhappy with the party. He didn’t like coconut, so he hated the German chocolate cake his mother bought. He was glad his great grandmother was alive, but slightly disappointed that she was the only addition to the party from previous years as far as guests went. And he hated the fact that Mittie made the party similar to that of a five-year-old.
Mittie got Will a rocket ship (that lights up and flies in the air a few feet and everything…some assembly required). Lyman got him a gift card to Best Buy worth $50. And Great Grandma Tressa gave him $100 in cash, which would later come in handy. He also had his father’s gift to look forward to (or fear, whichever one it might turn out to be).
After the cake and gifts and Lyman and Will going to Will’s room to hang out for a while, the party was thankfully and finally over. Will had about an hour completely to himself while his mother left to drop off Tressa at the Sunny Eaves Home, where she waited to die (that was her description of the place). He had time to use the new subscription to the pornography website and to write in his journal and draw a few pictures.
He considered himself so secure in his masculinity that he could write in a journal. He wasn’t secure enough to call it a diary, which it said on the front in frilly gold letters. He scratched it out violently with a permanent marker because the rest of the book was leather and heavy and cool. Besides, no one was supposed to see it anyway.
That particular day he wrote:

I’m really getting sick of this. It’s all dumb and stupid and I’m a fucking adult. I shouldn’t have to deal with this. But it all ends tonight. I honestly can’t wait. Today I have enough resources and money saved up to actually do this. It’s the first thing I’ve had to look forward to in years.

It was the first and last entry in that book. The other entries were deliberately written in an old book, which was set on fire in the back yard earlier that week, not to be traced. This brand new book was to be placed in plain sight on his bed when people would come looking for him. Although the old entries would have been detrimental to finding and catching Will sooner, no one needed them to find out what his plan was as it unfolded.
But I know every entry ever made, every single little thought that floated through Wilford Redder’s mind, like the back of my own hand. However, the story itself would be less interesting if I tell you all the hypothetical details in his old diary. We, like the investigators, can pretend that they never existed.

Chapter 2

When Mittie got home, she lingered in her son’s open doorway to ask how he enjoyed the party.
“It was fine,” he lied, turning around in his desk chair to look at her. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m glad you liked it, Will.” She smiled a very pretty, very motherly smile. She always spoke in a soft voice, and no one quite knew why; but it was a loving, caring, and soothing voice she had.
The bags and circles under her eyes were permanent from a rather short life (considering) of stress and anemia. She looked frail, but she was really just a skinny and bony person. Her hair was blond and always frizzy. And she always closed her eyes for a few seconds when she talked to someone as if she were very tired. She was only 34 at the time. Foster got her pregnant at 15. Will was 19.
When Foster got home, it was late. Will was already in bed, not quite sleeping but trying his very hardest to. He thought Mittie was in bed as well, and maybe she was, but she got out to meet her husband at the door.
Will could hear some harsh whispering from the living room from both his mother and father. The tones and volumes were getting increasingly louder, maybe because they seemed to be approaching his door. His heart started pounding in his throat and worried tears leapt to his eyes and started spilling over his eyelids before he could blink them away. He quickly wiped at them with his blanket.
The first thing he could hear clearly was his mother saying, “No, he’s asleep! He had a long day, so please let him sleep!”
“I just wanna wish him a happy birthday. Why can’t I wish my son a happy birthday?!” Foster slurred his words.
“Because you are drunk!” Mittie responded.
It was at this time Will could hear and feel his mother thumping against his bedroom wall from out in the hallway – most likely avoiding Foster’s swinging fist.
“You need the rest too, so your hangover isn’t very bad,” Mittie said quickly to cover herself.
“Just let me go in there and say hi and give him his present,” Foster slurred.
Will heard his mother thump against his wall again; this time with more force, probably induced by his father. It became evident when Foster opened the door and he could hear Mittie running down the hall whimpering. She slammed her bedroom door, and then all was silent.
Will pretended to sleep. It was his best defense, though it rarely ever worked. When Foster wanted something from him, he’d wake Will up. But at that moment, he was silently watching his son from the doorway. Will tried to keep his breath even.
Then Foster closed the door with a click. It was a tiny click, but it made Will jump – it was a sound he’d grown to dread.
“Oh, good, you’re up,” Foster said. Will could feel the pressure on his bed where he sat down.
Will sat up and drew his legs close to his body – partly because he was suddenly very cold, but mostly because he wanted them away from where his father was sitting at the foot of the bed. He hugged them even closer and tried not to shiver.
“So, you’re nineteen today…” Foster said, still slurring and burping uncontrollably.
Will nodded in response.
“I have a special gift for you.” Foster reached his hand in his pocket and Will was terrified as to what he was going to pull out.
It was only a check – a check of which would be one of the last traces of Wilford Arnold Redder. It was a check for $100, which would also come in handy later on.
“Take it,” Foster said, handing it to Will.
Will took it, thankful that the room was dark enough so Foster didn’t notice his hand quivering wildly in the air. “Thanks,” he said quietly. His heart had never stopped beating hard in his throat, but was now pounding in his ears. He felt that his brain was about to explode from all the pressure and anxiety he was feeling, and that would have been just okay with him because that would mean he could avoid whatever horrible fate awaited him.
“I have another gift for you,” Foster said. He had somehow managed to move closer to Will on the bed without him noticing, and he was now touching Will’s knee. He felt it was shaking and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m just gonna teach you another one of our lessons.”
The word “lessons” was so slurred, it was almost incomprehensible. But Will knew what he said. It was a commonly used word in his house. At Foster’s touch, he backed up as far as he could from him, pressing his back against the headboard.
Foster moved closer to him but Will couldn’t move any farther away. His whole face started shaking. It felt like mush and that it was going to melt right off of his skull. And that would have been okay as well.
Foster laid a subtle kiss near Will’s eye, right above his left cheek bone, and he shied away from it as much as he could. But fighting was no use – it never did any good. So Will sat there and did what Foster told him to do and let Foster do what he wanted to do.
He shut off his mind from the situation and thought about something else. Girls. The girls at his school were nice. They were pretty and smart, but none of them would ever touch him.
And before he knew it, Foster was done. He stumbled out of the room and left Will on the bed curled up in a shaking ball, hurting and crying.
Will couldn’t go back to sleep. All he could do was lay there with his eyes closed and hope sleep would fall over him. But it never did and he had to listen to Foster do the same thing to his mother.
Except, in a way, theirs was more consensual. She may not have wanted to do it at first, but it always ended with passionate moans and groans, and then the inevitable silence as the two fell asleep next to each other. Will despised his father and mother for that.

Chapter 3

Will lay in his bed for an hour after the silence descended upon the house. That was when he was sure Foster and Mittie were asleep. Even if Mittie wasn’t asleep, she wouldn’t stop him – couldn’t stop him.
He kicked the covers back and sat up, wiping away the last of the tears streaming down his cheeks like waterfalls. He used the back of his hand to wipe his streaming nose. He put on his clothes and a coat.
Then he pulled a duffle bag out from under his bed. He had gotten up early before school that morning to pack. Everything he could possibly need was there, including water and extra food in case he would have to live in the wild a few days. He slung that on his shoulder and pulled out a pre-written note for Lyman apologizing and explaining that he wasn’t Will’s reason for leaving.
He set that and the journal on his unmade bed to be found when people came looking for him later in the morning. He took one last look around his room; and, satisfied with what he left behind, turned his back on it and walked straight out the front door.
The air was slightly chilly. It was only the end of March so Will would have to deal with the nippy air for a while to come. He crossed his arms under his armpits to keep them warm and allowed the duffle bag to beat against his leg with every step. That, the sound of his feet almost echoing on the sidewalk, and his breath he could see rising under the street lights of his apartment complex were the only things to accompany him on the long, winding path to freedom.
The path was only long and winding because he lived in the very back of the complex, in the cluster of smallest apartments that the owners didn’t want anyone to see from the street. And after he reached the street, he had an even longer and more treacherous walk to take until he could meet cars he was actually comfortable stepping into.
The street right outside Will’s apartment complex had no sidewalks and very minimal working street lights. He and Lyman knew for a fact that the weedy grass lining the road on either side was both snake- and rodent-infested. Will had to watch his feet to make sure nothing was moving in front of him before each step.
As he walked, someone spoke to him.
Will turned around and inspected the empty road behind him. He looked ahead at the empty road before him. “Who’s there?” he asked the empty air.
“Won’t you quiet down? What if someone drives by and sees you talking to yourself?” the voice said, no quieter than Will just was.
“I’m talking to you. Who are you?”
“I guess I can be considered a friend. And you don’t have to actually talk to me. You can think something and I can hear it.”
Really? Will thought.
“Yes, really,” the voice sounded quite annoyed. “I’m Fritz Cedrick Palmer. And you’re Will Arnold Redder. I already know you because I’ve been with you for a little while now.”
Where are you?
“I’m in your brain,” Fritz said casually. “But don’t be alarmed. You sort of invited me. I mean, how else would I be here?”
Why are you here?
“Because you invited me.”
I don’t remember inviting you.
“Well you did. Maybe you just don’t remember doing it because you’ve been stressed and angry the past few days. Maybe you’d remember if I told you that I was the voice in your head telling you to run away.”
That was my idea.
Fritz sighed. “Don’t you get it? I am you!”
What? So, like, I’m schizophrenic?
“I wouldn’t put it past you. Have you seen the world you just left behind? Personally, I wouldn’t have stayed home long enough for your father to do that shit to you tonight. Happy fucking birthday.”
At least I got the money from him. Why didn’t you tell me to leave earlier anyway?
“Because I wasn’t strong enough until now. It took a lot of energy just putting the thought in your head a few weeks ago.”
Why are you suddenly stronger now?
“Shit, you ask a lot of questions. I’m tired. Bye!”
But wait! Your answer?
Fritz sighed again. “I guess…because you had all you could take tonight. What your father did…it was worse than ever before. And it broke you, didn’t it?”
Will shivered. So what does this make us? Will tried to think quickly before Fritz left.
But it was too late. Fritz was gone. Will could feel that he was gone within himself and in the air around him. He was alone again.

Chapter 4

Will met luck for the first time in his life when he sat down on the side of an exit ramp leading to the highway. He only did it to rest for a bit, drink some water, and eat his grapes.
Less than 5 minutes passed and someone in an SUV pulled over next to him and rolled down her window. She was pretty, blond, and way too old for him. But Will didn’t care. He wanted to look at her as an option. After all, she did pull over to help him. Why else would she do that?
“Are you okay?” she called. She didn’t step out of the car.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Will responded.
She hesitated before saying, “What are you doing?”
“I’m hitchhiking. Well, not yet. But I’m preparing to.”
“Where are you headed? Maybe I can give you a lift. I’m a little early for work anyway,” the woman said.
“The DMV. The nice fancy one downtown if you don’t mind,” Will answered.
“Hop in, honey. I work downtown!” She unlocked the doors.
Will couldn’t help but smile as he got up and went around to the passenger’s side of the large silver car. He set his duffle bag on the floor near his feet and shut the door behind him. He thanked the lady.
“It’s no problem. I like helping people who need it.” She flashed a small smile at Will.
He looked at the lady who suddenly looked much older than when he saw her with her head sticking out of the car window. But it was a graceful oldness. Frown and worry lines on her face and crow’s feet near her eyes. She was still hot to Will though.
The lady was a fast driver. For the first minute or so of the drive, the silence felt long and awkward. But finally she introduced herself as Cammie. She didn’t give a last name.
“I’m Will.”
“Well, Will. You like to get to the DMV super early, huh?” Cammie said.
“What?”
“It’s like 5:30 in the morning. The DMV doesn’t open for another, what… two and a half hours?”
“Oh…yeah” Will stammered. “I was expecting to walk most of the way.” Will smiled, trying to hide the lie. “You like to get to work super early?”
“Oh, I couldn’t sleep.” Cammie rolled her eyes. “I felt I’d be more productive if I put my sleeplessness to good use at the office.”
“Which office would that be?” Will asked subtly.
“Don’t be too subtle. You may never see this woman again. Just ask her what you really want to ask her.”
It was Fritz. He was back, and at a bad time.
“I don’t think I wanna answer that…” she said. Then she glanced at Will. “What’s wrong? You look pale. Do you want me to drive you home instead?”
“No. Not home. DMV.” Will said.
“Are you sure? It would be no trouble to me,” Cammie said, making quick glances between the road and Will’s face.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Must have been some bad grapes.” Will tried to laugh.
Cammie simply nodded in response.
“Ask her,” Fritz said in a sing-song tone.
NO! Will screamed in his head.
“I think you should. You may never see her again.”
I don’t know.
“And you will never know until you try,” Fritz said. Then he became quiet again.
Will sat in silence for a few seconds before he realized the awkward silence Cammie must have been enduring while he was talking to Fritz. She couldn’t hear Fritz and she was lucky. She wouldn’t have liked Fritz.
He didn’t even try to fill the silence. They were almost at the DMV.
After she swung into the parking lot and unlocked the doors for him to get out, he lingered. Cammie made nervous gestures with her hands. She fidgeted with her hair and nails and earrings. Will thought it was quite attractive.
“So, why don’t you take the day off, wait here for me to get my license, and we can go to a motel or something and I can thank you for the ride?” Will blurted, all in one breath.
Cammie started giggling, which Will also adored. Her blue eyes formed little tears as the giggles turned to full on laughter. “I’m sorry, Will. I can’t,” she managed.
“The boyfriend doesn’t have to know,” Will tried again.
“No, Will. I’m single. But I’m also Christian. I don’t believe sex before marriage is right.” By then, the laughter had died down.
“Then marry me,” Will said quickly. Not because he wanted to say it, but because he heard Fritz in the back of his head saying that it would be “smooth”.
“Aren’t you charming? Or trying to be? How old are you anyway, kid?” Cammie now seemed to be speaking down to him.
“I’m legal,” Will responded.
“Number please. And don’t say something ridiculous, like 30.”
“29,” Will instantly said. After receiving a skeptical look from Cammie he added, “Minus ten?”
Cammie started laughing again. Kid, I’m old enough to be your mother. I’m 52.”
“But you’re not my mother. And it’s legal.”
“The legality is not in question here. The morality, however…”
“The morality isn’t in question here either. Because morality and legality go hand in hand, at least in my book,” Will interrupted.
“I’m surprised you know what those words mean,” Cammie said, rolling her eyes.
Will suddenly didn’t feel like screwing Cammie anymore. Actually, he felt like getting the hell out of her car and her life forever. Because it was one thing to talk down to one’s age; but it was another thing entirely to talk down to one’s intelligence.
“Bye, Cammie,” Will said flatly. He picked up his duffle bag and let himself out of the car.
“Bye, Will,” Cammie said. She paused before adding, “It was nice meeting you!”
But Will slammed the door behind him – or he meant to. The duffle bag weighed down his arm and he didn’t use as much force as he thought he’d used. He didn’t return the pleasantry.
Cammie hesitated; then she drove away.

Chapter 5

Will was the first one there so he was also the first one to get service. Since he was 19, he only had to get someone in a car with him to observe him drive. He was actually a good driver and he got his license without any problems.
He walked across the street to a car dealership. He did this even though Fritz told him not to.
“No! This is exactly what they want you to do!” he yelled at Will.
But this is what I need to do. Will thought.
“It is just like those fucking money-grabbers to place a car dealership right outside of the DMV. They don’t care about you. They’ll tell you anything to get you to buy a fucking car.”
But it’s a used car dealership. It’s not like they’re super expensive cars.
“Do whatever the fuck you want, Will. But if that car isn’t what you expect it to be, don’t come crying to me.” Then Fritz was gone and so was the thick and uncomfortable feeling Will got whenever he was around.
Will walked into the dealership and a warm rush of air instantly greeted him – along with a seemingly annoying man with a bowtie. When he heard the bell ring as the door opened, he instantly looked up from his computer and rushed around the counter to offer his hand to Will.
“Hi! What’s your name? And what can I do you for?” he said, shaking Will’s hand vigorously. It was like he was a wound up wind-up toy with a few too many cups of coffee in his system.
“What can I do you for?” Will thought. Is that even proper English?
“I’m Will. And I’m looking to buy a car,” Will answered.
“Well hi, Will! I’m Bill!” the man said with a smile full of flashy white teeth.
“Hi, Bill,” Will said because he felt he had to.
“Just kidding, my name is Warner. It’s a joke I like to do. Say my name rhymes with whatever name someone gives me. It’s fun. You should try it. So what are you looking for my friend?”
The guy definitely has had too much coffee. Will thought.
“A reliable car. The cheapest you have, but it has to be reliable,” Will answered.
“Are you a red guy?” Warner asked.
“A what?”
“Do you like the color red?” Warner said a bit slower.
“Sure. I guess…” Will said.
“Well great ‘cause we just got a car in a few days ago. It’s red. Not too pretty, but it runs well now that we’ve had a chance to fix it.”
“How much?” Will asked.
Warner hesitated before saying, “We’re trying to get it to go for $750. But since we’re friends, I will give it to you for $500.”
“Don’t do it, Will. Last warning. The only reason he gave you the $750 is to make you think $500 is cheap.” It was Fritz. He was back.
“Wanna see it? Are you okay? Need to sit down?” Warner said quickly.
Will ignored the last two questions. “Yeah, I wanna see it.”
Warner led Will out to the mechanic area where the car was parked nearby. The whole time, Warner was talking in that fast way of his that Will couldn’t stand. And Fritz was talking to him in that slow way of his that Will also hated.
Fritz talked very slow and in a creepy, grumbly voice. And he was trying to get Will to not buy the car. He didn’t want Will to buy that car from that particular place because he’d be “helping the money-grabbers” and “wasting his money”. When Will kept ignoring him he began getting to the extreme precautions. “What if this car isn’t safe? It looks like a metal death trap. WILL, YOU COULD DIE!”
But the car felt right to Will. He got in and sat in the comfortable driver’s seat. He placed his hands on the worn steering wheel and his fingers seemed to wrap around it with familiarity. He loved that car and he was sure the car would love him, eventually. It wouldn’t do anything to hurt Will. He loved the torn leather seats because that was what made the seats so comfortable. He loved the smell the car had, which was no smell at all – he hated the “new car smell”. He loved the moon roof that took forever to open, but open it did. And the sound it made when it turned on made Will feel happy.
“I’ll take it,” he told Warner. “$500. No more, no less.”
“That was easy. We have other, nicer cars if you’re interested in looking around some more,” Warner tried.
“No. This is the one for me.”
“Okay, step back in my office and we can register it and look at insurance and all that fun stuff.”
That stuff wasn’t fun at all. Will just wanted to get out of there. (By “there” he meant the town, the state if he could manage.) He wanted to get in his new car and open the moon roof and all the windows and let the wind blow through his hair as he drove away. He didn’t much care where he was going.
But the transaction took a little longer considering his mode of payment was complicated. He saved every penny he got for his birthday and Christmas since he was twelve for this adventure. He had a little over $1000 dollars, which was a great start. But that money was all in cash or gift cards so it was hard to pay in one swift motion.
The insurance talk took long and everything else as well. Every second felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours when he was waiting to take a ride in his new freedom-mobile. And that was what he would call the car: the freedom-mobile.

Chapter 6

When Will took the freedom-mobile out onto the highway, the moon roof could only open half way. But that was fine with Will. The wind still blew down right onto his head and the air from the open windows on the sides helped rustle his hair in all directions. Sometimes brown clumps of hair would fall into his face, but he could count on the air to blow it away shortly after. And he loved that.
He stopped at a convenience store the next town over. It was still morning and he could go for a fresh cup of black coffee.
Will could remember being in middle school and having his first cup of coffee at Lyman’s house. Lyman let him try it black first. They made jokes about how Will liked his coffee black, like Lyman’s skin, and Lyman liked his coffee light and creamy, like Will’s skin. No homo or anything. That was just the way it turned out.
Will still liked his coffee black. He poured himself a cup and got a protein bar for lunch. Then he was on the road again, the wind whipping through his hair and making his shirt puff out in a funny-looking way. But he didn’t care how he or the car looked. He was just happy to be free in the freedom-mobile.
That was until the car started sputtering and jerking. He had skipped states by then and it was late afternoon in Maryland. The sun was hidden behind the clouds as it set and made the whole world look orange. He thought of how much the scene must have looked like an old western movie from other cars’ point of view. The world was in an orange tint and the smoke rose from his car in bellows, giving everything a dusty look.
He was glad no one was immediately behind him as he came to an abrupt halt. It was a stop that gave the airbags sense to pop out and almost break his nose. His head slammed violently against the headrest.
Will sat there for at least a minute, dazed and confused from hitting his head, before he realized that the smoke was still billowing from under the hood of the car. He opened the door and stumbled out. People were honking and slowing down around him, but there was no one like Cammie there to actually help him.
He rushed to the front of the car and carefully opened the hood. It was hot, but he endured it as he propped it open. He knew it’d be better to let the smoke come out of the car rather than stay in. And come out it did, first gray and then a thick black that alarmed him.
Then, in what looked the very center of the mechanical junk, a small fire started. He stared at it in awe and allowed his face to form beads of sweat on the nose and brow before doing anything to stop it.
“I told you to fucking choose wisely. I told you to not buy a car from the money-grabbers,” Fritz said nonchalantly.
“Everyone’s a fucking money-grabber to you. Because you know what? People like money, Fritz!” Will said aloud. It wasn’t loud enough for people to hear what he said from their cars, but they could see that he was talking to himself. Most people wrote it off as angry babble, not his norm.
Will hurriedly took his coat off and began beating at the small fire with it. It seemed to have been working. In the short glimpses he got when he lifted the coat from the fire, it looked as though it was going down. He could see more smoke and less flames. That was, until his coat caught on fire too. He threw the coat into the pile of mechanical junk he decided to call his freedom-mobile and rushed to get the duffle bag out of the passenger’s seat. Then he sat on the shoulder of the road, as far away as he wished to be from the disaster, and hoped the thing wouldn’t blow up and that someone had sense enough to call the police for him by now.
The fire got larger and larger, but didn’t seem to be touching anything flammable because the car didn’t explode. People were driving slowly. He felt bad because he was obstructing traffic, but he realized that they didn’t have to go that slow.
“Look at them, making a spectacle of you. Fucking rubber-neckers. If they would all hit the mother fucking gas and not pay so much attention to your damn ‘freedom-mobile’ then traffic wouldn’t be backed up and you’d have a fucking cop here by now,” Fritz complained.
Eventually, in what felt like an hour but probably wasn’t, Will could hear sirens approaching in the distance. A sheriff’s car came up, probably because he was closest to the incident. He came out of the car quickly with a jug of liquid in his hand. As he approached the car, he unscrewed the cap and splashed it all over the fire. It went down almost instantly, leaving the billowing smoke as a reminder that it was there and still giving people a reason to look in curiosity.
The sheriff looked around at the damage and caught eyes with Will, still sitting on the shoulder and hugging his knees to his body. He walked over to Will and knelt down to look at him eye-to-eye.
“I’m guessing that was your car?” the sheriff said.
Will only nodded in response.
The sheriff held out his hand to Will and said, “I’m Sheriff Arlie Bohlken. You can call me Arlie or sheriff, whichever you feel most comfortable with.”
Will took the hand, expecting it was to shake. But really the sheriff lifted him to his feet. “I’m Fritz,” he said after he was standing.
“Well, Fritz, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna take you down to the local mechanic where he can take a look at what’s wrong with your car for free. Any other services will cost ya. You may wanna at least tip the tow truck guy a few dollars. He’s already on the way. Then, when the car’s fixed, you can go on home.”
“I don’t live around here,” Will responded.
“Oh, well you can go on down to a hotel…or motel. I don’t judge.” Arlie led Will back to the sheriff car and told him that they didn’t have to wait there for the tow truck. The two drove away.

Chapter 7

It was scary, but strangely exhilarating, that Will had absolutely no clue where he was. He didn’t know until he saw a sign in a window that said that particular store had Accident’s best malt milkshake. Even that didn’t fully register until Arlie turned to him at the mechanic shop and said, “What brings you to Accident?”
Will looked up at the man confusedly.
“You said you weren’t from around here…”
“Oh! No, I’m not. I’m just driving. Enjoying my freedom,” Will answered.
“Yeah, you look a little young. How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
“Where’d you come from?” Arlie asked.
“Virginia. It was kinda a long drive,” Will said.
“You’re nineteen years old, your name is Fritz, and you came from Virginia. This is the most news this little town has ever had in one day,” Arlie joked. He and the mechanic exchanged glances and laughed. When Arlie looked back at Will he added, “Accident only has about 300-something residents.”
Will didn’t answer because he just realized that Arlie had called him Fritz. Did I tell him my name was Fritz? Will asked himself.
“Yes, yes you did. Because I told you to do that.” That was Fritz – the real Fritz.
Why?
“Because your parents will find you quicker if you go around telling everyone your real name.”
Oh, thanks.
“Are you okay, son? We have cold water in the back waiting room and a television you can watch if that’d make you comfortable,” the mechanic, whose name was Mose Angelou, offered.
“Yeah,” Will said and stood up. “That’d be nice.”
Mose went out to look at the car and Arnie led Will back to the waiting room. He showed Will the bathroom, the water dispenser, and the remote for the television, and then he went outside to join Mose.
Will made himself comfortable in one of the three cushiony chairs in the waiting room. It was a small town and Will would be surprised if more than three people needed this room at a time. The room was small, but not too small. It was a comfortable size. It fit the water dispenser, a coffee table, the three chairs, the television, and its stand with plenty of walking space in between.
He flipped through the channels until he found one that looked familiar to him: the military channel. It was a marathon of a show about people who detect land mines in war. He lingered on that channel for a few episodes and then blindly flipped through the rest of them. Nothing seemed interesting, so he began sifting through the formidable stack of magazines strewn over the coffee table.
Will read a Mad Magazine cover to cover and began starting over to make sense of the jokes he didn’t understand the first time (all the while Fritz was taunting him about his mistake with the car, but he ignored the voice). He did this until Mose appeared in the doorway and asked Will to step outside with him.
Arlie was still there. He was sitting down on a folding chair with a can of root bear in his hand. He offered one to Will and he accepted.
Upon opening the can, Mose started explaining the car trouble. Most of it was babble that I don’t remember, but overall he said this: “It’s not repairable. It took me forever to find out what the problem was. There were a lot of issues with the engine and the oil hasn’t been changed in forever. You need to take better care of your cars, kid.”
“I just got this car,” Will responded.
“Well, where from?” Arlie asked, rising from his chair.
“Oh, some used car dealership in Virginia.” Will shook his head and shrugged.
“Do you remember the name and address? This could be very important.”
“No you don’t!” Fritz yelled.
“No, I don’t remember honestly. I bought it as a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing,” Will lied.
“Well, do you still have the papers? You can have a lawsuit on your hands,” Arlie asked.
“Um, I might. But really, it’s no big deal. I don’t want a lawsuit.”
Why don’t I want a lawsuit? Will asked Fritz.
“Because…if they find the papers, they will find out your real name. And if you try to sue the car dealership, it will be all over Virginia’s local news and that asshole Foster will find you,” Fritz answered.
Oh.
“Hey, I don’t blame you for not wanting a lawsuit. Getting into that legal crap is not fun. But maybe you can call them and threaten them with one and you can get your money back. How much did you pay for this piece of shit?” Arlie said.
“$500,” Will answered.
Arlie let out a sigh and shook his head slowly. “Show me your papers and we can give those jerks a call.”
Will started to panic. He was scared that they would find the papers and find out that he lied. He was worried about the lie he would have to tell them for why he lied in the first place. He didn’t want to lie about the papers either – they may find them later. He’d have to leave the car there, with Mose.
“I’m not quite sure where I put them,” Will quickly lied.
Fritz started screaming at him. “Your eyes! Your mother fucking eyes! Stop that!”
What?
Arlie followed Will’s gaze to the glove compartment. Will must have been glancing over there in his nervousness. “Maybe they’re in the glove box.”
Will became very stiff. The only thing not stiff about his body was his heart and his blood. His heart pounded rapidly and his blood pressure rose to an unspeakable rate – almost to where it was when he was in his room with Foster the night before. He could feel the blood pulsating in his finger tips and toes. He could feel it in the veins on his neck and temples as well.
“Maybe,” he said, trying not to stutter or sound as shaky as he felt.
Mose rounded the car in a few strides and opened the slightly blackened passenger’s door. He opened the glove box and smoke puffed out of it – the dark smoke that accompanied the fire.
Using the forefinger and thumb of his left hand, he carefully pulled out a few sheets of folded paper. They were black and crumbly and, thankfully, unreadable.
Will instantly loosened up. It was an obvious shift from how he was before and he was glad that neither Mose nor Arlie was looking at him to see it. They were too busy being disappointed about the destroyed paperwork.
“Well there goes your solid evidence that you even bought the car,” Arlie said and shrugged. “Sorry, Fritz.”
“Well, can’t he just call and try to get his money back?” Mose suggested.
“Nah, they might call the bluff and can chew his ass out in court. Look at that scrawny fella’. Does he look like he can or even wants to be in the court system?” Arlie said. Then he added to Will, “I was only kidding. You’re not that scrawny.”
Chapter 8

The three of them went back to the heat of the office area. Mose sat behind his desk and Arlie and Will sat in the two cushiony chairs facing it. Mose took out a coffee mug from behind his computer monitor and started sipping from it.
“So what’s your plan?” Arlie asked Will after a moment of silence. “Are you gonna buy a new car or what?”
Will chuckled. “No. I don’t have the money to get a new car.” He sighed. “I’m not quite sure what I’m gonna do now.”
“Maybe I can give you a ride down home, to Virginia. How far away do you live?” Arlie offered, trying to be polite.
“Maybe around, 5-6 hours. That’s about how long it took me to get here.”
Will could see Arlie’s disappointed expression at how long it would take to drive Will home.
“But honestly, guys…I’m not looking to go home. I don’t think I ever wanna go back there,” Will explained.
“Why is that?” Arlie asked.
“I’m nineteen. I wanna get out of the house and experience the world on my own. I’m ready to cut the umbilical cord between my mother and me. Before she suffocates me with it.”
“You sound very mature for just nineteen,” Mose said.
Arlie nodded in agreement. “Poetic.”
Will smiled in response, although he knew Mose and Arlie were being sarcastic. He knew he was mature. They just hadn’t seen how mature he could be.
Behind them, the door opened with a bang and the clatter of the bells hanging on the door handle. A female voice exclaimed, “Oh! I’m sorry, I always forget how light that door is!”
Will and Arlie turned around. There, closing the door behind her, was a beautiful woman pulling her sunglasses up to rest on her head. They pushed the straight brown hair out of her eyes and acted as a headband. She carried a rather large gray purse and wore a plain t-shirt and skinny jeans. The tell-tale bags under her eyes and smile lines exposed her true age, though she had the body of an angel in Will’s eyes.
Arlie rose to meet the lady near the door. He gave her a hug and a rather long kiss on the mouth and Will lost all excitement for the woman. He didn’t think it was right to mess around with another man’s lady. But he just didn’t know with how beautiful she was in the bright white lighting of the office.
“Oh, Pearle, I’d like you to meet Fritz…” Arlie trailed off to leave room for Will to fill in his last name.
“Palmer!” the real Fritz yelled.
“Palmer,” Will agreed. He stood up to shake the lady’s hand.
“Fritz Palmer, this is Pearle, my wife,” Arlie said with a smile and slid his hand comfortably around Pearle’s waist. “Fritz had some car trouble so I had to carry him down here. He’s not from around here and we were just discussing what he should do.”
“There’s a hotel a few blocks away!” Pearle gestured in the general vicinity.
“I’m…looking for something a little cheaper. I might be staying a while,” Will was slightly embarrassed to admit.
“Oh, well there’s also a motel around here somewhere,” she said. She turned to Arlie, “But whose gonna drive the poor soul there? If you want me to, I can.”
“If you wouldn’t mind, baby, that’d be great. I gotta go back to the station and check in. I’ll be home shortly after you, I imagine,” Arlie responded.
“Of course I don’t mind helping the little guy!” Pearle said with a smile in Will’s direction.
Little guy? Will asked himself in disbelief.
“Yes. She said ‘little guy’. No girl will ever want you!” Fritz laughed.
Will only smiled in return.
“Ok, Fritz. Pearle will carry you to the motel and you can sleep there for a few nights. Come down to the police station if you need anything at all. This is a tired old town. Not much goes on.” Arlie nodded and shook Will’s hand. He said goodbye to Mose, and then walked out the door.
Will followed Pearle out to her car. It was a small, nice, silver car. He wished he had gotten that one, although it probably would have cost him more than he had. If he had gotten that car he would be far past this tiny town of Accident, Maryland.
It was awkward at first – sitting in a car with yet another stranger. The main difference between Pearle and Cammie was that Will felt some attraction to Cammie. He had a lot of attraction toward Pearle as well, but it was a forbidden attraction and he pretended it wasn’t there.
Pearle spoke first, “So, what brings you to Accident?”
“I’m just traveling,” Will responded.
“Anywhere in particular? Or are you just roaming?” Pearle had a nice, soothing voice. It reminded him of his mother’s; but Pearle’s was more high-pitched and less tired-sounding.
“Just roaming.”
“I wish I did that when I was your age.” She snorted. “Wait, I don’t even know your age!”
Will giggled. “I’m 19.”
Pearle looked at him from the side of her eye. “Really? 19.”
Will nodded.
“Well, in my defense, you’re a very mature-looking 19-year-old.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Will asked.
“It’s supposed to mean…” Fritz began but Pearle cut him off.
“Never mind…I guess…well, I was going to invite you to this little gathering with some of me and my husband’s friends. There was gonna be drinking, and you look over 21.”
“How old are you?” Will asked.
Pearle paused before answering, “I’m 40.”
“40? Do you have kids?”
“No. And I’m not sure I want any. I just don’t know. I don’t like the idea of all the pain.”
Will nodded.
Pearle snorted again. “I don’t know why I’m telling a kid all this.”
“Because you feel a connection to me?” Will said what Fritz told him to say.
Pearle paused and looked at him. She had just pulled into the motel parking lot. “Maybe.”
“Well thanks for the ride, Pearle. Um…” Will paused before opening the door. “Look, I’m gonna be here for a while, as you know. And I wasted all my money on the piece of crap at Mose’s. Do you know anywhere I can get a short-term job?’
“I work at a bar. It’s kinda of a shady place. If I talk you up enough to my boss, maybe I can get you in, no questions asked,” Pearle suggested.
Will liked the irony. The town sheriff’s wife worked at a bar.
“That would be great, thanks.” Will started opening the door.
“When do you need the job?” Pearle asked.
“As soon as possible.”
“Okay. Well, I will call you at the motel tomorrow if I get an answer.”
“Okay! Thanks so much!” Will said and got out. “Good night!” he said and closed the car door.

Chapter 9

Will went for two days living off of the motel’s single vending machine. The water came with the room, but the chips and Twinkies were separate. He felt he was running out of money fast and was worried Pearle wouldn’t ever call him.
On the third day, however, he got a phone call late at night while he was watching a midnight rerun of Jerry Springer on the tiny television that came with the room. He reached over to the nightstand where the phone rang loudly and obnoxiously. “Hello?” he said tiredly.
“Hi, Fritz?”
Will didn’t know what to say. He had forgotten that he went by “Fritz” in that town.
“Say hi, you dummy!” Fritz yelled in Will’s head.
“Yeah, hi,” Will said, not quite sure who was on the other end.
“Hi, it’s Pearle. Remember, from Mose’s the other day?” she said.
“Oh! Hi, Pearle! Yes I remember you,” Will said. He was overly happy all of a sudden.
“That’s great! Listen, I’m sorry for calling so late. You must have been so confused. I just didn’t want my husband to hear our conversation.”
“Why?” Will asked.
“Because he’s a cop. He wouldn’t be happy to hear I got you job at a bar.”
“Oh. Wait, you got me the job?”
“Mhm!”
“Wow! Thanks so much, Pearle. When do I start?” Will asked.
“Whenever you want this week. I don’t start ‘til 5:00 so whatever day you decide to come, you should come after 5:00. We close at 2:00, but you don’t have to work until then. You must work a minimum of 4 hours each time you come in. These are the rules my boss told me. His name is Mr. Margel. Don’t call him anything else.”
“Sure thing. I need to start as soon as possible. So is tomorrow okay?”
“Of course. But like I said, I don’t go in until 5:00 every day, so wait until then.”
“Okay. Have a great night, Pearle!” Will said.
“You too, Fritz!”
Will hung up and went straight to sleep. He had many short dreams about Fritz – the real Fritz. In the dreams, Fritz was always a guy with the same body as Will, but the face was blurred out. Even with the blur, Will knew he didn’t even want to see the face. He knew it would be like his own face, but with wicked shadows everywhere and a dark gleam in his eyes.

Will got directions from someone walking down the street near the motel and was able to get to the bar in 15 minutes. He had an extra thirty minutes to kill and spent it standing outside the bar, leaning against its brick wall, waiting for Pearle.
She got there twenty minutes later. She pulled up in her cute silver car and flashed Will a happy white smile. Will returned the gesture.
When she got out, she was pulling something out of her jacket pocket. It was a pack of cigarettes. She fished in it again and came out with a hot pink lighter.
“Where’s your jacket? It’s kinda chilly out here,” Pearle asked upon approaching Will.
“Yeah,” Will giggled, “it got destroyed in the car fire.”
Pearle looked genuinely distraught. “And you don’t have money for a new one?”
“Nope! But I’ll be okay. It’ll get warmer soon.”
“You’re sure?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Do you want a cigarette? You look like the smoking type, but I don’t smell it on you so I wasn’t sure.”
“I’m really not the smoking type…not yet anyway,” Will said, taking the cigarette from Pearle’s outstretched hand.
He put it in his mouth, just like he saw his mother do, and allowed Pearle to light it for him with her pink lighter. Will figured it was a form of trust, to let someone place an open flame that close to your face.
They stood and smoked in silence. But this wasn’t an awkward silence, like they experienced in the car. It was a friendly silence. They no longer needed to fill the air with words to feel comfortable around each other.
The smoke felt thick and Will didn’t think he liked it that much. He wanted to cough it up and stamp the thing out on the sidewalk, but not in front of Pearle. Pearle smoked so elegantly, with her pinky finger sticking up. She looked off into the distance. Her hair was gathered into a pony tail with a few strands hanging down in the back resting against her long neck. Will realized he was staring and quickly looked away as well.
Then it was 5:00 and Pearle was done with her cigarette. Will had about half to go. Pearle looked at his unfinished cigarette and smiled. She scraped it against the brick wall behind them and slipped it back into the box and said, “You can finish it after work.”
“Okay, thanks!” Will said and followed her into the building.
The whole thing was one giant room with a small room in the back. That was the place for the employees to take breaks in. Will was allowed a break every two hours of nonstop work.
Not a lot of customers were there yet. They seemed to want to be as far away from each other as possible, each sipping from their own mugs or glasses.
The bigger room was kept dark, supposedly to fit the atmosphere of a bar. The beer counter was large with over ten barstools lining one side of it. The other was lined with beer taps of over twenty varieties. Behind all that were even more beers and wines and whiskeys lining the back wall, which was basically a really huge mirror. Pearle looked at herself in it before turning around and cleaning the bar with a white rag.
Will didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there and watched Pearle cleaning the wood of the counter until it was shiny. She looked up at him when she was done and said, “Mr. Margel will be here in a minute or two. Just hang tight until he does.”
The uniform was a dark red polo shirt and black pants. Another man walked in from the back room wearing that same thing Pearle was wearing. He was relatively young-looking, but obviously older than Will. Following him was a man not wearing the uniform. He wore a stained white shirt and jeans. The shirt almost couldn’t cover his big gut, which lapped over his pants a bit in the front. His skin was tan, his beard was uncut, and Will could tell that he was Mr. Margel.
He came up and greeted Pearle and asked how she was doing. He asked about Arlie and Mose, because he heard Arlie was down there the other day. Then he turned to Will and said, “You must be Fritz. What an odd name.” He held out his hand for Will to shake.
Will shook it, and for once (other than in the presence of his father) he felt small. Mr. Margel’s hand engulfed his entirely. “Yes, sir,” Will said.
“I see you’ve got your manners down. Even though you’re from West Virginia!” He laughed.
“Oh, I’m just from regular Virginia,” Will corrected him.
“Oh. Then disregard the bad joke,” Margel said, still laughing. “Alright, well I guess Pearle can train you since she wanted you to be in this position so badly. If it were up to me, I’d have you sweepin’ floors. I don’t know you that well, so don’t take it personal. But we already have a floor-sweeper guy, and Pearle really wanted you to work with her and I trust Pearle. So don’t mess up her reputation. She will fill you in on all the rules and regulations and crap. You don’t look 21, but no questions asked. No questions asked.” It was like he said it all in one quick breath. Then he turned around without waiting for Will’s response and walked back to the back room. He came back briefly with Will’s uniform shirt, and then disappeared again.
“Isn’t he a charmer?” Pearle asked with a giggle after Margel was out of ear shot.
Will got changed into his new uniform and watched and learned from Pearle the rest of the night. That was – until 11:00. The two said goodbye to each other before going separate ways. But when Pearle realized Will was walking home, she offered him a ride. Will wondered if everyone in Accident, Maryland was as nice as her.

Chapter 10

A couple days into his employment at the bar, Will decided to start staying until 2:00, when the bar closed. About week into it, Pearle finally asked him about it.
“Why do you stay late now?” she asked, cleaning the counters as Will shined the glasses.
“I don’t know. I guess because I like to see the characters that stay until then. You know after you leave, a whole new crowd comes in,” Will answered.
“Yeah, I know that. It’s a crowd I don’t want to be exposed to.”
“No, Pearle.” Will shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Really? How so?” Pearle asked.
“The people that come in after midnight are the calmest, most thoughtful people I’ve ever seen. It’s the people from 11:00-12:00 you have to worry about. But that’s only an hour to deal with. Then you get two hours of slow, peaceful bliss.”
Pearle looked around at the dim room. “I don’t know about bliss.”
“Not the bar itself. The people. Only a few come in that late. You’d think they’re alcoholics, but no. They just have one beer each and sit in separate corners and read. Or they study the floor or the empty seat across from them. Those are my favorites. They are deep in thought.” Will paused to refill a man’s drink and put it on his tab. “I like to sit and watch them at slow times and guess what they’re thinking.”
“That sounds like fun. I’m not gonna lie,” Pearle said with a smile. “And not only because I can get paid extra for basically sitting around and reading people’s minds.”
“That’s just an added perk,” Will said and laughed.
Pearle laughed with him and sighed. “Would you mind if I stayed with you one night?”
“Of course not. It’s your job too. I can’t tell you when you can and can’t work.”
“Maybe tomorrow night then,” Pearle said with a smile.
“Maybe,” Will responded.
“I just have to let Arlie know.”
“Yeah, you should definitely do that.”
“Then it’s a date,” Pearle said. Then she paused, looking at Will from the corner of her eye. Will hoped she couldn’t tell how his heart skipped a beat on the word “date”. “You know…as friends,” she added nonchalantly with a shrug and a smile.
Will again had to hide his disappointment.
“Not like you have a chance with her anyway.” It was Fritz. Fritz had been talking to Will off and on the past few days. It was usually something harsh and mean in the scary slow way he spoke. “She’s married, you idiot!”
I know that! It wasn’t like I was trying to make a move on her or anything.
“Oh, but you were,” Fritz replied.
I WAS NOT! She was the one who mentioned the date, not me.
“I can read your thoughts, remember?” If Fritz had a face, it’d be smug all the time.
You know, I’m really beginning to dislike you.
“You’ve always hated me. But it’s okay. I think we will become really good friends later on…partners even.” Then Fritz was gone for the time being, and Will could relax again.
He was shining a glass – he had since learned to multitask when Fritz spoke to him – but he supposed he could never get rid of the flushed, scared look he would get on his face. Pearle was coming back from giving a customer a margarita. She took one look at Will and asked, “Are you feeling sick? You don’t have to come in tomorrow you know.”
Will managed a polite smile. “No, I’m fine.”

Chapter 11

It was finally the day of his not-date with Pearle. Will was excited, but he hid it the entire day. Fritz kept telling him that there was nothing to be excited about and that Pearle didn’t call it a date for a reason. “She’s not interested in you. No one’s interested in you. No one likes you. You don’t even like yourself.”
Will didn’t answer, because deep down inside he knew it was true.
Most of the day went as normal, with Pearle not even bringing up the not-date. It only furthered Will’s nervousness, even though he was sure there was nothing to be worried about.
“Just a not-date with a very hot very not-single young lady…what could there possibly be to be nervous about?” Fritz asked.
“Everything,” Will mumbled to Fritz.
“What was that?” Pearle asked.
“Nothing,” Will lied. “I didn’t say anything.”
Pearle only smiled in response. She took another secretive sip from the glass of beer she hid under the counter. Will watched closely as she pulled her lips away from the glass. He saw the foam it left there bubbling and popping until her short, pink tongue licked it away. Her red lipstick left a little stain on the edge of her glass. He only looked long enough for it not to be creepy; then he turned his gaze back to the few people sitting in the dim bar.
“What do you think that one’s thinking?” Pearle asked, gesturing toward the bald man in the corner.
“Probably about the book he’s reading,” Will said.
Pearle giggled.
“Who is it?” Will asked.
“You assume I know everyone!” Pearle exclaimed.
“Well, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Pearle said and the two burst out laughing. The bald man in the corner with the book glanced up at them and then continued reading and sipping his whiskey. “That’s just Ossie Borbon. He works in the library so I’m not surprised he’s reading a book. I’m more surprised he’s a late night drinker. He’s usually so calm.”
“Pearle, look at him,” Will said. “Does he not look calm to you right now?”
“Actually, everyone looks calm in this room…except you,” she said, turning to Will. “Why is that?”
“I’m fine.” At Pearle’s scoff he added, “You don’t look so calm yourself.”
After a short, but not awkward, silence, Pearle said, “You are a very intuitive young man.”

The waitress poured more coffee into Will’s cup and he instantly brought it up to his face to take in a deep whiff.
“You really love your coffee, don’t you?”
“Huh?” Will asked, opening his eyes.
“First, this is your sixth cup since we got here. And second, you’re almost making love to every one you get just by smelling it.”
“Oh,” Will said and giggled awkwardly. “Oh! I’m sorry this must be costing a fortune! I can stop if you want…”
“No! That’s not what I’m getting at at all!” Pearle said and laughed. “They’re free refills anyway.”
“Oh, thanks,” Will said and flashed Pearle a smile.
Pearle looked down and smiled at her lap. Will kept looking at her until she looked back up at him. She said, “Tell me more about you.”
Fritz spoke up, laughing hysterically. “Tell her about how your daddy fucked you!”
“What?” Will asked, trying to ignore Fritz.
“You’re so mysterious.” When Will didn’t respond, she added, “I don’t know, I guess tell my why you’re here.”
“I’m having coffee with a really cool person,” Will said, only because Fritz told him to.
“You know what I mean, Fritz.”
Will sighed. “I was growing away from my mom, getting sick of my dad, and I wasn’t that good in school.”
“But what about your future? How can you just leave school like that?” Pearle asked.
“What about my future?” Will scoffed.
“What do you wanna be when you grow up?”
“I am grown up,” Will said as the waitress refilled both Pearle’s and Will’s cups.
“You know what I mean,” Pearle said. “Shit! I burned my tongue!”
After a pause, Will responded, “I’m not sure.”
“Hm?” She was taking another sip of coffee.
“I don’t know. But I think it’ll be something great.”
“That’s a trip!” Fritz chimed in.
“Why?” Will asked.
“Just whatever you do, don’t have a son!” Fritz laughed.
Why? Will asked again

” Here is where I am so far on my current novel :) Please give feedback 

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