To most people, including me, Mr. & Mrs. Thaddeus J. Wentworth III were the poster parents of small town America. Dad worked in town at his law practice and came home every day for lunch. In the evening he would attend civic meetings or take mom out for ice cream or a movie. Sometimes they just sat in the porch swing and enjoyed the night air. Looking back, I see it now as a little too perfect. But then it was a very false but very real sense of security.
Around 7:00, on a beautiful May morning, I was awakened by a loud banging at the front door. It was Earl Fantod, a senior partner in my father's small law firm. He had come over to break the news of the accident to me.
"I have some bad news for you, Taddy".
He always called me Taddy. I didn't really like being called Taddy, because I was almost sixteen years old, an age when dignity and autonomy become more important than favors handed out by adults. But he said it in such an affectionate, grandfatherly way that I always let it slide.
"Your parents were in a terrible car accident. They didn't survive."
Didn't survive? What did that mean? I went into immediate turmoil, torn between the numbness of shock and the intensity of realization. I felt removed from the situation. One second I was watching it all on television. The next moment I was on the television. Voices in my head started competing with each other offering solutions and questions. Was this just a bad dream? Would I wake up in the security of my bedroom? Should I check my parent's room to see if they were in there? I wanted to run but I couldn't move. A large basketball of emotion swelled in my chest, but I couldn't open my mouth to let it out. What does one do in a situation like this? What should one do? What can one do? What does it matter? Who will take care of me? I don't know how to light the furnace. I don't know where to send checks to pay the bills. I don't even know how to write a check. Maybe I should check their room. But there is plenty of room. Plenty of room now that they're gone!
Bizarre scenes raced through my mind. The funeral director was looking down at me with a stern expression.
"We can't bury your parents because you haven't paid the bill."
"But, I don't know how to write a check."
Town's people murmured to each other. "He still hasn't buried them. They won't rest until he learns how to write a check."
Maybe the bank would show me how to write a check. I could see the bank president looking across that huge wooden desk through those wire rim bifocals.
"It's really up to your parents to show you how to write a check."
"But they're dead. They can't show me how to write a check."
"That's right. And I hear you haven't buried them yet. That hardly shows the kind of responsibility we expect from someone we issue checks to."
My paranoia deepened. The principal of my high school wouldn't let me out of class for the funeral.
"You can't go to a funeral without a note from your parents."
"But it's my parent's funeral"
"Well then. You didn't plan ahead, did you? We always teach you to plan ahead. By the way, you don't know how to write a check, do you?"
I gasped. What was I going to do?
Earl gently put his hand on my shoulder and stroked it a couple times. Then he pulled me toward him and hugged me. The basketball of emotion popped and I when limp.
"I can't bring your parents back, Taddy. But maybe I can help you sort things out."
Taddy. He called me Taddy again. This time I didn't feel resentment. I felt comfort, great comfort and warmth. As I stood at the edge of the abyss, I knew I was going to fall in. I also knew that I had a lifeline to Earl Fantod.
"There's more I have to tell you, Taddy. Your folks were involved in some questionable activities. There are even rumors that those activities had a role in the accident. I know this isn't the best time to tell you, but I think it is important to be as up front and honest as I can be. As we unravel the situation you are probably going to feel betrayed. You'll feel like you cannot trust anyone. I want you to trust me and that's why I'm being up front with you now. I know this is all very hard to take. You are only fifteen. (Going on sixteen, I thought) In the next few months you will grow up more quickly than you ever imagined possible. If you can trust me, I will help you through it all."
I looked at his kind blue eyes and thinning gray hair. I noticed that his hand on my shoulder was trembling slightly, but there was strength in his face. I decided to trust him. As it turns out, it was one of the best decisions that I ever made in my life.
* * * *
I was shaken out of my memories when Patience tripped over my foot on the way in to my office.
"Sorry," she muttered somewhat perfunctorily. I'm sure she thought that I should keep my feet out of her way. "By the way, did you ever find out what happened to those web pages that disappeared last spring?"
"No, I had completely forgotten about them."
She didn't say anything. She didn't even look at me. But her body language radiated the message that I had dropped the ball and the only reason she tolerated me was that I was the boss. I got up and headed to Frank's office. Thaddeus J. Wentworth, web page sleuth, would get to the bottom of this mystery somehow.