The Box Has Twelve Sides: Thirteen Curious Tales to Delight and Disturb

DEATH BE DAMNED

WE MOVED INTO OUR new house two months before we found out my wife was going to die.

I'm sorry, Mr. Williams, there's nothing we can do. The doctor's words stuck in my mind like mud to shoes when coming in from the rain.

I always thought those rainy days weren't good for anything.

Not anymore.

The old house on Mercer Island, just southeast of Seattle, had a history stretching back to the thirties. I had done my research well before we put in an offer, trust me. The last thing we needed would be to move into a place which had a bad past. While we liked to watch those ghost hunting shows on The Travel Channel and A&E, I never truly believed in those sorts of things. I didn't exclude the possibility, but I wasn't about to believe in something I hadn't personally seen for myself. My wife, however, didn't share my skepticism.

Judy's dad passed away about ten years ago and she swore he was still following her around, giving her comfort in times of need, helping point to good decisions on things. Several times she even claimed to have felt the bed move as if he was sitting on its edge, giving that little shake and shift. While I didn't discourage the feeling she had, I did, at times, feel a little uncomfortable whenever we fooled around, always with the feeling her dad was watching and disapproving of some guy having his way with his little girl. But I was probably just projecting the feelings I would have if the situation was reversed.

We had made a conscious decision even before we got married that we were not planning on having children. Some would disapprove, but we both felt strongly about it. Her father was her rock when he was alive, but he had endured decades of a bad marriage. Judy often said her parents should have gotten divorced before she was even born. Would have solved a lot of problems, me included, she would say. Because of the situation she grew up in, Judy carried that baggage with her. It had been an obstacle for her over the years, facilitating wrong turns and poor decisions. Like so many, she was a good person, but scarred by her upbringing.

My parents had busted up long ago when I was just ten. I have very few memories of my mother, just of her screaming at my dad. And I could still see my dad, reeking of booze, popping her on the side of her face.

Funny how bad memories are often more memorable than the good ones.

Judy and I had dated back in high school, a whirl-wind romance which lasted about ten months before I got stupid and thought I was doing her a favor by 'letting her go.' Truth was I was afraid of even the slightest commitment. I had a pretty successful senior year on the basketball court, and I had my sights on playing in college and beyond. But after four years of being a back-up at Vanderbilt, it was apparent the talent pool was stocked with much bigger fish than myself.

Once I realized my chances at professional sports were slim to none, I friended Judy on Facebook and was able to make my way back into her life. The amount of ass-kissing was embarrassing. I didn't deserve it but only by the grace of God did I get her back. We ended up making our home in Fish Hawk, Florida, about twenty miles southeast of Tampa.

I was able to parlay my short-lived basketball career into a job with a decent sized pharmaceutical company as a sales rep. It seems like many who are in sales these days are ex-jocks. Maybe it's the confidence which comes from playing college-level sports. Many employers look specifically for former college athletes to sell their products.

My college coach was able to get me into Horizons Medical, a company which was set to rival Pfizer. Although I had no experience in marketing, with a little training and basic people skills, I was on the fast track to becoming one of their top producers.