Perilous Poetry. Kym Roberts

      “I just don’t believe in coincidence.”

      Cade shook his head and passed me my plate. “You’re always looking for trouble.”

      Ignoring his remark that stung more than I cared to admit, I started to take my first bite when my cell phone rang. I glanced at it on the counter and decided to let it ring. This was a night to be savored. I took a bite and nearly moaned as the flavors of the rice, meat and vegetables began to quench my hunger.

      Cade ignored my phone and began asking me about the poetry reading on Friday when it rang again. “It’s okay to answer your phone,” he said.

      “It’s not going to be anything important.”

      “Then it will be over with quickly. Or, we could listen to it ring all night.”

      I got up and answered the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello.” I tried not to sound irritated but from the smirk on Cade’s face, I failed.

      “I’m sorry,” were the first words out of my cousin’s mouth on the other end of the phone.

      That got my attention. “What? Jamal, what are you talking about?”

      “Please don’t kill me.”

      “Jamal, if you don’t tell me what I’m going to kill you over, then I’m going to kill you for real.”

      “I just wrecked your daddy’s truck…”

      “You what?” I heard the traffic pass and a horn blare. “Are you okay?”

      “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. A truck swerved at me and clipped the front end of the truck, I spun around and ended up smashing into the concrete barricade. The truck isn’t drivable.”

      That one bite of fried rice was screaming to come up. How was I going to tell my daddy? He loved that truck. I loved that truck. I grabbed my keys and ran for the door.

      “What’s wrong, Princess? Where are you going? I don’t want you going off by yourself. Not after what happened tonight. I’ll come with you.” Cade was up out of his chair and at the door at the same time I was.

      “No!” I yelled. It was more denial of what I was about to find than a response to Cade. “I need you to stay here, Princess is still out and—” My voice hitched. This had been my opportunity to make things right between us, but my cousin and my daddy’s truck meant the world to me…and him. “Please, Cade. Wait here for Princess.”

      Cade ran his hand through his hair, clearly irritated. “Whatever you need. I’m here.”

      I ran out the door and down the steps. “Where are you?” I asked Jamal.

      “I’m on the bridge over the river.”

      “The highway?” He could get killed standing on that bridge.

      Jamal gave me directions but I knew exactly where to go. I jumped in his rental car and was there in two minutes. He was standing at the bed of the truck with his arms folded and the phone up to his ear. It was the stupidest place to stand, the man was going to get himself killed.

      “Charli, I’m sorry.”

      “Where’s the other driver?”

      “He took off.”

      I looked my cousin up and down in the dim lighting. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

      “Yeah. I’m sorry, Charli.”

      “I don’t blame you. It was an accident. I’m just glad you’re okay.” I was still sick when I looked at the truck, but I was relieved that he was in one piece. “Have you ordered a tow?”

      “It’s a two-hour wait.”

      I looked at the front of the truck and cringed. It was bent and twisted like the front axle was a spiral, not a straight piece of steel. To my utter disappointment, the truck was in bad shape.

      My vision blurred as I neared the front end of the vehicle. This had been my parents’ truck. Oncoming headlights blinded me.

      “Are the police on their way?” I asked.

      “Yeah, but they’ve had a busy night.”

      “You told them it was a hit-and-run?”

      Jamal nodded his head and I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I looked down at the screen as I read the text from Cade: Princess is home safe and sound. Are you okay?

      I immediately texted back. I am, but I won’t be home for a couple hours.

      Do you want me to come to you?

      Yes, I did, but I didn’t think it would be fair to Cade to make him stand on the shoulder of a bridge risking his life for a truck that wasn’t his. I texted him back: Jamal is with me. I should have expected the response.

      Night, Princess. See you tomorrow.

      So much for my dinner date.