Free The Death Run (A Short Story) by Sandra Ruttan Page B

supposed to make breakfast today?” Mother liked to remind him of his shortcomings by asking pointless questions with obvious answers.
    “Sorry.” He gave her a sheepish half smile. “Can’t believe I slept so late.”
    “Neither can I,” she muttered as she took the plates and cutlery to the table in the dining room.
    A few second later, she turned around and looked him in the eye. “What’s this?”
    The leather-bound scrapbook was in her hand. Colin was sure she could hear his heart beating a million times a minute.
    “Well?”
    “It’s … it’s nothing.” The burning he felt in his face told a different story.
    “Nothing? You’ve been up half the night, left garbage all over my table, for nothing? I swear, you’re a mystery to me. I don’t know what you’re thinking half of the—” She stopped cold as she opened the book at random. Her breath caught in her throat, and the room was absolutely still, except for the sizzle of the bacon on the stove.
    Colin hadn’t even realized she was cooking bacon until then.
    She flipped the pages slowly. “I didn’t even know you were working on this.”
    He shrugged and turned his face toward the floor. “It’s not the kind of thing you talk about, you know?”
    “It’s such a nice …” She seemed to struggle for an appropriate word. “Collection. Maybe you could share it with Mrs. Stephensen. I’m sure she’d be really touched. I didn’t even know you saved all these clippings about Danny.”
    She reached the last few blank pages at the end and closed the book, then passed it to him.
    The spell was broken, the book back in his hands. She continued with breakfast, turned the stove off, put bacon and eggs on a serving plate. Colin quickly set the book on the side table before he met his mother in the dining room.
    “I’ll just clean this up,” he said as he pointed at the scraps of paper left on the table.
    “It can wait. Eat your breakfast.”
    With that, Colin sat down. He ran through his plans for the rest of the day in his head as he ate in silence.

    Vaughn Falls wasn’t a very big town. One long road stretched lazily from end to end, so it was easy to see most of the local shops without hitting the side streets. What made it a long walk wasn’t the distance, but the way everyone wanted to talk your ear off.
    Colin thought it was funny how people in big cities had nothing to say to each other. They’d pass person after person on their way to work, see all kinds of things, ride in silence. Come to a small town where nothing’s happening, everybody knows everyone, and you can’t shut people up. Talk to you all day if you let them.
    He’d always gotten away with being a little quieter, but today he stopped to help Mrs. Griffin with her groceries, listened to Walt Anders outside his shop for nearly half an hour before a customer came, and then took a walk through the Co-op.
    By the time he was done, he glanced at his watch, and knew it was time.
    He headed to the restaurant.

    “I’m telling you, Frank, I’m worried. He disappears for hours at a time, and now he’s pasting clippings about Danny into a book. I think he’s depressed.”
    Frank continued measuring the feed, kept his eyes on his livestock and off his ex-wife. Anybody’d be depressed living with her.
    Ah, to say what you really wanted to say …
    “Look, Mary, I think you’re overreacting. Sure, it’s been rough on him to be back here, without work. He hasn’t really had friends since Danny died. Don’t surprise me none that he’d take it hard right now. But he’ll be fine. He’s just got to work through it himself. Things’ll turn around. They always do.”
    “He’s a sensitive boy, Frank. What was he thinking, studying to be a social worker? He’s not Corey.”
    With that, Frank’s head snapped up sharply and he glared at her. “I’m surprised you know that.”
    “Off my bloody rocker, coming to you about this,” she muttered.
    Mary started to stomp off,