SEVEN
Becky Carlson stood in front of her father’s door. Her arms were full; groceries in large brown paper bags were tucked in one arm as she struggled to find her keys with the other. She was a slim, short, young woman with long brown hair, big friendly blue eyes, and a winning smile. Becky would stop by every other day before work to see how her old man was doing. Her mom had thrown him to the curb ten years before, and now he lived here if you could call what he was doing living.
Becky remembered him as a fit man, tall and handsome. In fact, Andy Carlson used to teach gym at the local school, until something happened and then it all changed – he had changed. Now he stayed indoors and never came out, never had a visitor. His theory was, “If you don’t have a key, you shouldn’t be there
