Theresa Weir - Bad Karma

At home Daniel took a beer bottle from the six-pack, put the cardboard container in the refrigerator, grabbed a book of matches, and went outside for a smoke.

Premonition greeted him, happy to have the company, even if it was only Daniel. Daniel swung his leg over the lounge chair and sat down, adjusting his hips and legs until he was comfortable. He put the open beer beside him on the cement patio then pulled the cigarette pack from his shirt pocket. He opened the cigarettes and tapped one out. At first he just held it, enjoying the smooth feel of the paper and the smell of tobacco. He finally stuck the cigarette in his mouth, fished the matches from his pocket, and lit the cigarette, drawing the sweet smoke deep into his lungs.

There had been a spread of several years in his childhood when he’d wanted to become a priest. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t Catholic. He’d been taken with the majesty of high mass and the mysterious, old-world feel of the Catholic Church before it decided to go hip. But then, several years later, he found out priests couldn’t have sex, so that was the end of that.

He met Julia Bell upon returning from his year in Scotland. While he was gone, her parents had moved to Egypt from St. Louis, looking for a safe place to raise Julia and her two younger brothers. She had a smile that could knock a guy sideways.

He told her of his dreams to see the world. He talked to her about Scotland and his family crest and how he wanted to go back there someday, maybe live there. He told her that he wanted to go as far north as Siberia, as far south as Tasmania. And even though she didn’t know a lot about the places he spoke of, she begged to hear his stories, begged to hear his dreams.

“Let’s go to Europe when school’s over,” he said a few months before they graduated from high school. “We can stay in hostels.”

Ever since getting back from Scotland, he’d been working his butt off, saving every penny he made so that he could return. Julia wasn’t as excited about it as he thought she’d be. That was something he should have taken as a warning.

“It’s so far away,” she said.

“Don’t you want to see new countries?”

“How about someplace closer? Someplace in the United States. California, maybe.”

That’s what they did. Not only did they go to California, they moved there.

She waited tables. He got a job working on a deep-sea fishing boat where rich people spent the day going for that trophy catch. And while he didn’t go along with the idea of pulling such beautiful creatures from the sparkling blue water so they could die in the blinding sun and later end up on someone’s wall, he loved the sense of freedom. At twenty years old, he could ignore the bad and embrace the good, and it was good feeling the salt spray against his skin. It was good having a rolling deck under his bare feet while sea birds cried and circled overhead, begging for the chopped-up fish they used as bait.

His body got hard, his skin turned a deep golden brown, and his hair was bleached white by the sun until he looked like someone born to water and sky.

When he and Julia weren’t working, they made love and talked about going to college. Julia would marvel at the hardness of his body and how he’d adapted so well. He looked pure California, while Julia, with her dark hair and light skin, continued to exude the wholesome Midwest.

“Do you ever wonder what we’re doing here?” she asked him one night.

Her question took him by surprise. They were just getting started. They were just beginning the adventure. “No,” he said.

“Not at all?”

“No.”

She grew very still and very quiet.

And then she began to cry. She was homesick, she told him. She wanted to go back to Missouri.

“I can’t go back there,” he said. “Not now. Maybe never. What’s in Egypt?”

“My family. My friends. I miss my mom, my dad. Even my brothers. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“I’m here,” he said, hurt to discover that his company wasn’t enough, hurt to discover that while he’d been thinking they were having the greatest time of their young lives, she’d been miserable.

Maybe he didn’t love her enough. Because he couldn’t make himself leave, not after getting a taste of the world. He couldn’t make himself go back to Egypt.

They sold his stereo to buy her a bus ticket home. After she left, Daniel could no longer afford the tiny apartment they’d rented together. His boss let him move his few belongings into the cramped sleeping quarters of one of his boats, and that became Daniel’s home. The room was stuffy and claustrophobic, so most of the time he slept on the deck, with the moon overhead and the water gently lapping under his ear.

That kind of nomadic life was okay for a kid just out of high school, but Daniel began to feel sickened by the carnage. He began to look to the future, and what he saw was a Coast Guard cutter.

Three years after joining the Coast Guard, he gave up his sea legs and took a position with the San Diego police. He somehow ended up in a couple of hostage situations and before he knew it, his life of freedom had turned into one of high stress and fearsome responsibility. He started drinking and smoking-and became damn good at both.

The front door slammed, bringing Daniel back to the present, to the patio, the cigarette, his unfinished beer, and Beau’s return from work.

It was weird, Beau having a job. Daniel still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“I’m out here,” Daniel yelled through the screen door.

As soon as Premonition saw Beau, the dog jumped to his feet and started whining and running around in circles.

Beau tried to pet him, but Premonition was too excited to hold still. It took several minutes for them to calm down. As soon as they did, Beau spotted the cigarette butt in the grass.

His face fell. “You’re smoking,” he said in shock. “Why?”

Daniel silently cursed himself. He should have tossed the butt in the flowers where Beau wouldn’t find it.

“It was a rough day. I needed a cigarette.”

“No, no, no.” Beau grabbed the open pack and squeezed them in his fist.

Daniel jumped to his feet, almost knocking over the beer bottle. He tried to wrestle the pack from Beau, but Beau took off across the yard, Premonition at his heels. Daniel tackled him, both men flying to the ground. “Damn it, Beau,” Daniel said, trying to pry Beau’s hand open to get the cigarettes.

“You’re not getting them, you’re not getting them,” Beau yelled. “I turn my back on you a minute and this is what happens.”

Daniel laughed, recognizing their mother’s famous line.

The dog was on top of them, thinking it was a great game.

“Premonition!” Beau yelled, getting the dog’s attention. “Here!” He gave the cigarette pack a heave. The dog went after it, catching it before it hit the ground.

Daniel got to his feet, with Beau following. “Ha, ha,” Beau said, delighted. “Now they’re full of dog slobber.” Then he saw the grass stain on the front of his shirt and immediately went into a panic. “My shirt. It’s dirty. I have to wear it tomorrow. Look what you did.” He was close to tears.

“It’s okay. We’ll wash it. We’ll use that presoak stuff on it, like you see on TV. It’ll get out a grass stain,” Daniel said with a confidence he didn’t feel. Would it? He hoped so. Otherwise Beau would be up all night worrying about the shirt. “We’ll do it right now. Come on. Get the shirt off.”

They had to go to the store to find something for grass stains. By the time they got home, it was getting dark. Inside, the message light on the answering machine was on.

It was Cleo, wondering why he hadn’t come to pick her up so she could get her dog.