The Tin Box by Kim Fielding Read Free Book Online

“Bunny?”
    “My Rabbit. I know, not a very creative name. What’s your car called?”
    “My car doesn’t have a name. It’s an inanimate object.”
    Colby made a dismissive pffft noise. “Now you’re gonna hurt her feelings.”
    “It doesn’t have feelings. It’s a car.”
    “You assume she doesn’t have feelings. But maybe she does, just in an automotive sort of way. Like my printer. That thing has an evil sense of humor. It’ll work just fine when I print something stupid, like a recipe or something, but when it’s important—invoices from the store, maybe—the damn thing jams or pretends it’s not speaking to my computer. And when I finally do get it to work, it spits a half-dozen copies all over the floor.” He shook his finger. “It’s mocking me. And then there’s my iPod….”
    William couldn’t tell whether Colby was joking since his smile seemed pretty permanently affixed. Maybe Colby liked to show off his nice teeth or showcase his dimples.
    After a few miles of quiet, Colby began to fiddle with the stereo dials. When he hit the right combination of buttons, a CD started up. It was a Schubert string quartet.
    “You listen to that ?” Colby asked incredulously. “Don’t you have something better? In your glove box, maybe?”
    “There’s a Beethoven disc in there. I think some Liszt too.”
    “Anything a teeny bit more modern?”
    “I had a Stravinsky but it got scratched.” William had his gaze on the winding road in front of him, but with his peripheral vision he could see Colby shaking his head.
    Colby switched off the CD and began to hum instead. William didn’t recognize the tune, which wasn’t surprising. He wasn’t much into music. He had only a basic knowledge of the classical stuff, and he listened to it mainly because his father had always listened to it when he drove or worked. In fact, most of William’s small collection of CDs had been gifts from his parents. He’d never been sure whether they thought he liked the music or were hoping he would come to like it. Maybe they just couldn’t think of anything else to give him for his birthday and Christmas.
    Not surprisingly, Colby was humming something bouncy. He jiggled his leg too, and tapped his fingers on the door handle. William had to remind himself to be annoyed, and he tried not to focus on the fact that Colby was so close in the small car that they were almost touching. It was better to focus on the road—a lot of drivers evidently mistook this highway for the Monaco Grand Prix racetrack. People kept zooming past him even though he was going several miles over the speed limit.
    As they drew closer to Mariposa, Colby directed him off the highway, past a few blocks of houses and a church, and around a little park with swing sets and a slide. Their destination seemed to be a strip mall containing a restaurant, a hair salon, and one large store—Frank’s Grab’em.
    “Are you buying perishables?” Colby asked as William parked the car.
    “Probably.”
    “’Kay. Then how about lunch first?”
    William wasn’t really all that hungry, but he followed Colby into the Java Joint, which proved to serve coffee, frozen yogurt, sandwiches, and burgers. They took a booth near the front. There were only a few other customers in the place: a couple of older ladies dining together, a guy in his thirties poking at an iPad, an older man reading a newspaper. The waitress appeared long enough to plunk down plastic menus and a couple glasses of water, then disappeared into a back room.
    “Avoid the eggs,” Colby advised. “But the burgers are always good.”
    “Okay.”
    William hid behind his menu. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten out with someone who wasn’t Lisa or a fellow student. It hadn’t really occurred to him on the drive over that he’d be forced to make conversation with Colby for the length of the meal.
    Eventually the waitress reappeared. William was thankful to be able to order coffee at