Read Online A Widow's Curse by Phillip Depoy - Free Book Online

and sight, and when it’s done, it draws aside, allows the sunlight back. But rain does the same thing to the mind that it does to the sky. It obscures; it fogs. It robs the color and distracts the eye until nothing seems plausible, nothing seems clear.
    But the rain had subsided to a drizzle by the time I pulled my truck up to the house.
    Andrews appeared on the porch, holding a notepad, before I’d turned off the engine.
    â€œAbout time,” he called.
    I climbed out of the truck and stepped quickly to the porch.
    â€œWhile you’ve been out uselessly doing whatever it is you so uselessly do,” he told me, “Dr. Shultz and I have been finding out everything you need to know.”
    â€œEverything I need to know,” I repeated, voice dry. “Then the notepad you so vigorously hold is, we assume, only an outline.”
    â€œWhat?” He looked up. “‘Outline’?”
    â€œTurn to the page that explains quantum mechanics, then. I’ve been needing to know about that for quite a while.”
    â€œAbout the thing. ” He grimaced. “You really can take the fun out of helping you.”
    â€œYou’ve found out something about the coin.”
    â€œWe’ve found out everything about the coin. Mission accomplished. Fait accompli.”
    â€œIs Shultz packing, then?”
    â€œPacking? No. I mean we just found out, you know, where this thing came from, not how it got here or who sold it. Damn it, you really can take the fun—”
    â€œShultz is still in there, then?” I headed for the front door.
    â€œOf course.” His voice dropped all of its remaining joviality.
    â€œShultz,” I called, “have you got a second?”
    â€œWhat is it?” Andrews followed me into the darkened living room.
    â€œWait.” Shultz floundered on the sofa, shoes off, where he had fallen asleep. “Who’s that?”
    â€œWhy did you call me?” I asked.
    â€œWhat did he say?” Shultz glared at Andrews, who stood just behind me, still flourishing his notepad.
    â€œHe said—”
    â€œI mean,” Shultz interrupted. “I know what he said, but why did he say it? What does it mean?”
    â€œHow did you come to call me about your coin?”
    â€œI told you,” he said, a bit of irritation creeping into his voice. “I got in touch with the university and they gave me your name.”
    I turned to Andrews.
    â€œIf you had a valuable coin, or one you thought might be worth something, where would you go?”
    â€œMe?” Andrews scowled. “I guess I’d find some antique-coin guy.”
    â€œRight,” I agreed. “If you were looking for a pompous opinion about something that didn’t matter, you’d call a university. If you wanted information you could actually use in what we would laughingly refer to as ‘the real world,’ you’d call some guy. ”
    â€œI did.” Shultz managed his way to a sitting position. “Remember I told you I talked to a silver collector? I mean, Jesus! I even made long-distance calls, overseas, because the jewelry guy said it was European. But everybody I talked to, they just told me the facts. Had no idea what the story was. It’s the story that makes a doodad really mean something, don’t you think?”
    I exhaled.
    â€œHe did tell me that he took it to a guy at a jewelry store,” I told Andrews over my shoulder.
    â€œAnd the story is, in fact, what makes a doodad interesting,” Andrews replied. “You’ve always said so yourself.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Shultz finally had his stocking feet on the floor, rubbing his eyes.
    I exhaled.
    â€œNothing.” I gave him a bit of a raised eyebrow. “My friends are suspicious of you. But they’re suspicious of everyone, so I’m—”
    â€œYou’re uncomfortable that you invited me into your house.” Shultz