What Came First, Chapter One

Since I am the clumsiest person alive, I trip on the way out of the
taxi. My mom smiles, shaking her head, and helps me back up. "Thanks,"
I mumble.

My dad looks like he's holding back a chuckle. He finally lets loose a
guffaw when he takes a look at my bloody knee. "Will you ever learn
how to stand up on your own two feet, Jase?" he snorts.


I glare at him. Sometimes he can be a pain in the neck. He's just as
clumsy as me, so really it's a tie for first place. "I thought I did
at eighteen months."


We all turn our heads to look at the Colorado hotel. It's called "The
Stars of Five", which is a stupid name, if you ask me. Why? It only
has four stars.


Even though it really is a nice hotel, I have to admit. Its design is
generally yellow with red and/or orange polka-dots. It comes complete
with chandeliers and pictures of bright flowers in every room. If I
didn't know, I'd think it would probably have five stars.


As we head in one of the maids smiles at me. I wait in one of the
couches in the front room. The couch is yellow with orange stripes. I
absentmindedly finger the stripes with my right hand.


After ten minutes I stand up and walk around the room. The still life
paintings remind me of the flowers in my grandmother's garden. The
grandmother on my mom's side, I mean. For all I know, my dad's parents
don't even exist.


"Jason, we're signed in," my mom says loudly so apparently everyone in
the room hears. "Let's find our room."


Our room reminds me of the twentieth century. It looks like it's the
backround for a "Haunted Hotel" movie. I sit down, shaking. All I want
to do is go to sleep. After all, we did drive for two hours from the
airport in Wyoming.


My mother notices, and manages a weak, wavering grin. "You know what,
Jason? How about we go to eat dinner, and then we'll go to bed. Sounds
good?"


"Music to my ears," I say into my pillow.


As we eat dinner at a restaurant called Lake George Pizza. Even though
I'm not hungry, I succeed to take a few small bites of my pizza.


"You know what I want to know?" I say.


My parents wait, expectant.


"Why did we come here, to Colorado?" I ask. "I mean, not that it's bad
or anything. I know Grandma used to live here, but she doesn't
anymore. What's so special about this place? Why can't we go to a
popular attraction town, like New York, or Paris?"


My dad takes an unusually long sip from his Coca Cola. Mom finally starts.


"Well, you know how special this place is for me," she said. "And we
haven't gone in such a while, I thought it would be nice to visit it."


"But we don't even own the house anymore." I push away the pizza. My
stomach's about to burst.


I think my dad looks sad, or angry. Maybe even a twist of both. "So
what? We're here, let's enjoy it." His voice is shaky on the last
sentence.


I stare out of the wooden window, my look fixed on a tree in the
distance. Old, withered. There's a new one right next to the old,
almost looking like it's mocking it. Saying, "You'll never again be as
young as me. You might as well be hit by a car."


Something about their presence annoys me. I quickly turn my head to
glance at my parents. "Okay. I'm done. Let's go."


I'm not able to sleep tonight. Something about this silence scares me.
Dad has went to the library in the streets, and since it's a long way
he's taken a taxi. I remember earlier today, right after we left the
restaurant, my dad kept shaking while staring at the street. I'm not
exactly sure, but I think he was looking at those same two trees.




My dad and I have always been close. He looks almost exactly like me,
except an older, wrinklier version. There are crinkles at the ends of
his smile, the sun reflects on his teeth. If he wasn't so old, I'd
think he was my brother.


He's also the same as me in personality. He likes to joke around, like
me. When he was younger, he messed around with his teachers like I
did. When he tells me about his teachers for the younger grades, he
stops and pauses for a second, as if trying to remember what he was
supposed to say, like he'd waited a long time for this moment. I
always think that's strange, but hey, he's old. Maybe he's just
forgetting.


But the point is, we've always been very close. Even closer than my
mother and I. Which is why I was so shocked when tonight, just when
I've managed to go to sleep, my mother tells me he's died in a car
accident.