Page 8 of Tainted Love

As I settle into the backseat of our station wagon, I curl up into a ball and feel the tears start to fall. “Mom, do you know what happened to Michael’s father?” I choke out the words, afraid of the answer but needing to know.

My mom takes a deep breath before speaking, her voice gentle and comforting. “I did hear some ladies in the office talking,” she replies, meeting my gaze through the rearview mirror. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

“No,” I snap, I’m so frustrated and confused. I need to know what is happening. The crease in my brow deepens as I stare at her, demanding an answer.

Her eyebrows raise slightly as a reminder to watch my tone.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m just worried,” I say, my voice softer now.

“I know, sweetie,” she replies with genuine sweetness. She takes a deep breath and begins. “It seems Michael’s dad was in an accident two nights ago.”

My eyes grow wide with shock as my heart begins to race, threatening to burst out of my chest.

“What kind of accident?” I manage to say barely above a whisper.

“A car accident,” she replies with a heavy sigh.

“Did he...did he die?” I struggle to get the words out.

“No. I don’t think so. But he hurt some other people,” she explains calmly.

“Oh no! Are they alright?” I cry out, feeling panic rising within me.

“I’m not sure. From what I understand, Michael’s father was driving under the influence of drugs and alcohol, and he hit a family in another car. A mom, dad, and young child,” she says somberly.

My heart shatters into a million pieces at this tragic news. How could Michael’s father do something like this? Tears stream down my cheeks uncontrollably. “What’s going to happen to Michael’s dad?”

“Well, he may go to jail for a long time,” my mom responds gravely.

My head spins, and I’m filled with confusion and sorrow. What does this mean for my best friend?

Chapter 4

“Tragedy”

Taz - Age 6, 1976

Two days ago, my life was good. I had beaten Sascha at a game of HORSE and had a great day. After school, my dad’s Camaro pulled up outside our school on time. He was happy, his long hair wild and wind-blown. I thought he must have gotten some extra sleep after dropping us off this morning.

As we hopped into the backseat, still buzzing with energy from the school day, Dad turned around and asked, “What do you say we grab pizza for dinner after Brian’s football practice this evening?”

Brian gave him a curious and skeptical look. “Why are you in such a good mood?”

Dad just shrugged and said, “Why not? Let’s live a little.” The sun streamed through the open windows, casting golden rays across his face, and I couldn’t help but smile. We sang and laughed the whole ride home.

When we got home, I was excited and searched for my Grandma to share my good mood. She was supposed to bring Farrah for a ten-day visit today. I darted around the house, checking every room in hopes of finding her. My heart raced as I burst into the spare bedroom, but all I found was a neatly made bed.

I met my dad in the living room and asked him where she was. “I’m not sure. Maybe she stopped to get groceries on her way here,” he replied.

Brian closed the refrigerator door after searching for an after-school snack. “I hope so. We’re out of food,” he added sourly.

“Go and get dressed for practice,” Dad said just as a rough knock sounded on the other side of the front door.

“Coming!” Dad yelled, his voice a mix of surprise and amusement as Brian grabbed me from behind and put me in a headlock, giving me a noogie as I twisted and swatted at him to no avail.

But then my dad’s voice cut through the air, hitting a pitch that made us both freeze. “No. That can’t be right.”

Brian released me, and we stood side by side, watching my Dad as he backed up into the living room, followed by two police officers. Why would there be policemen here?