The Clear-Out Read Online Free Page A

could never see the point in that. When I’d go to bed, all the cutlery would be in its proper place. But in the morning, the knives, forks, and spoons would be all mixed together.”
    “You think he was there?”
    “He was there for sure. You know what it’s like when you come into your house and it’s empty? Orwhen you come in, and it’s quiet, but you can tell someone is there? Dan was there.”
    They drank their coffee in silence for a moment.
    “What does ‘What happens?’ mean?” Kevin asked.
    “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Did you get any messages from Dan?”
    “The number 75,” Kevin said. “It kept appearing. Written in the dust on the telephone table. On the mirror when I got out of the shower. All kinds of places.”
    “What did it mean?”
    “Turns out, Dan had life insurance. Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth. He just hadn’t got around to telling me while he was alive.”
    “Seven hundred and fifty thousand. Wow. That’s life-changing money.”
    “And I’ve changed my life.”
    “How did you figure it out?” Duncan asked.
    “I took a leap of faith.”
    Duncan could get no more information out of him. They heard someone banging on the shop door.
    “Leave me your phone number, Duncan,” Kevin said. “I’ll set something up.”
    “What?”
    “Leap of faith, my friend. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
    The parking lot was busy with shoppers and cars when Duncan left the thrift store. As he walked to his car, he kept his eyes straight ahead. If people were staring at him in his pajamas, he didn’t want to know.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Two days after Duncan gave Kevin the chalkboard, Kevin asked Duncan to come to the thrift shop. There, in the shop’s storage room, stood the leader of the skateboard boys.
    The kid wiped his nose on his shirt sleeve. He tossed his long hair off his face, and it flopped right back down into his eyes again.
    “You have got to be kidding,” Duncan said.
    “That was my reaction, too,” Kevin said. “Wait until you hear him.”
    “I’ve heard him,” Duncan said. “I’ve heard his loud music and his rude tone. Teenagers today don’t care about anybody but themselves. I’m getting out of here.”
    “She’s trying to ask you something, bro,” the skateboarder said. “And she’s getting a little annoyed with you.”
    “Don’t you speak of her!” Duncan spun on the boy, pointing his finger right under the boy’s nose. “She was worth more than you and your lazy friends put together will ever be worth.”
    “Then maybe you should have treated her better when she was alive, bro.”
    “I’m not your bro. And I’m leaving.”
    “Peace out, then,” the kid said.
    Duncan stomped out of the thrift store. His car tires squealed as he sped out of the parking lot.
    “I don’t have to put up with this,” he muttered. “I can sell the house. Why not? It’s mine. I’ll sell it, take the money, and go someplace warm and play golf all year. I’m single now. Time to start acting single!”
    He’d go visit a real estate agent that very morning.
    The kid on the skateboard zoomed by him, darting in and out of traffic. He looked as if he was flying.
    “I hope you get run over!” Duncan yelled. “I hope you get smashed up! Why should you get to live, when better people than you have to die?”
    Duncan didn’t know why he had waited so long to leave town. Really, the time had come.
    Was his passport up to date? He’d need to make a list of things to do. How should he sell his furniture? Maybe the real estate agent would know someone who could come in and deal with it all.
    Duncan thought for a moment about asking his son for help, but he decided against it. Bobby would have strong feelings about selling the family home. And Duncan didn’t want to know about them.
    He didn’t want to know, and he didn’t want to care. All he wanted was to play golf. Play golf, lie on some beach, and drink himself silly for the rest of his