Coincidences

Act I

Tired. To the bones. I can't feel my body. Carrying everything to the moving truck can be exhausting, especially if you have a ton of stuff to bring with you, and you have to rent two trucks.

Two hours have passed since we left our town. That wretched place can burn to the ground now, under the hot desert sun. We'll get a new sun now. It won't be that harsh.

Why? We're moving to a beach town. My old man worked his butt off to earn a fortune. If I have to guess, let's see... He said the new house costs four hundred fifty grand, and it didn't include the furniture and appliances, so... He should have earned around six hundred grand.

I take a sip from the Pepsi I bought last gas station. The radio sung lightly, with the latest pop song they can offer.

"You okay?"

Dad drove the Voyager passively through the highway. He had taken energy pills to stay awake, although I strongly advised him not to for the sake of his health.

"Are you okay?"

He replied, without leaving his eyes on the road, "Yeah." He let out a weak cough.

Stare.

The radio station interrupted us, screeching, "A great hit, I'll tell you that. It's now 6:30; good morning to you all, fellow listeners!"

I take a sip from the paper cup.

"This has been brought to you by Pepsi," the speaker teased. "But, I mean, who drinks soft drinks early in the morning? Am I right?"

I gagged. I mean, it's still a coincidence. I wonder why it follows me everywhere. I haven't done anything to deserve this in my life, so I clearly don't understand.

We continued to drive through the carpool, the moving trucks trailing from the other side. The orange clouds drifted away as we excel the 80 MPH speed limit. The breeze intensifies, probably because we're nearing the oceanside.

Dad passed by the gasoline station. He reminded, "Not going to another one anymore. Remember, son?"

I do remember. It was about an hour ago. Dad was buying us beverages, and I was reading the news, 'cause I had nothing else to do while the truck drivers refilled their respective tanks. I read about a, um, whatchamacallit, delinquent, well known, running around loose in the vicinity. The minute I put my eyes of the article, the cops were pulling over after chasing the same freaking guy and arresting him on the spot.

"That was rather unpleasant," he said that time, while revving up the engine.

After 20 miles or so, we exit the highway down a ramp, and we encountered the first stop signs we've seen for the last hours. We turn north to a long street. A hill accompanied the stretch of concrete. This revealed a tunnel that, at the same moment we drove by, ejected a high-speed train. This event went on, until the train took a slight turn, slowing supposedly to a halt by a nearby train station.

We neared the signs of civilization. We saw the spire of an obvious town hall sprouting from the set of buildings. To the west was a sea, a stunning sight of reflections, projected by warm rays of light. A lighthouse was there, too. It doesn't seem to be used at the moment, maybe because it was dawn already.

The van signaled a left to a downhill road, where two nice houses were visible. They seemed big and strong, a sturdy place for people to live in. If not mistaken, from our point of view, our home was the one to the right; a teal house with 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms, overlooking the ocean.

The other house looked more feminine. It was a light pink with white outlines. I guess it's almost like our house, just with a different design and layout.

We have arrived to our destination. New and improved home sweet home.

We stationed the vehicles in front. Having to step out of a moving box and stretch your body is so satisfying, especially if you haven't stood up for an eternity.

We unloaded our belongings to the porch. Dad and I helped carrying the boxes. Words were written on those boxes, like Budget, Fragile, This Side Up, along with our last name and content list.

After emptying the first truck, I sought out for my room. Carefully studying each one, I finally decided. Mine was a fairly medium-sized room, with a view to the large body of water and the neighboring house.

I set the entire place up, organizing the furniture and decorating the walls. The room instantly became my own territory.
I brushed the dust off my shirt and I  descended to be of any more help.

I walked on the lawn towards the truck, until I realized that there were more trucks on the street. I know we only rented two of them, and the other one already left, empty.

Observing more closely, I was able to realize the reason why. Some other family was moving in the other residence. A sign screamed, "Sold." I totally missed it. The other men imitated the actions of ours. They kept up a steady haste.

Then, I saw the new owners of the place. A woman that, although her appearance hid it, was in her late thirties and a girl my age were uncovering a lamp from bubble wrap.

I quietly watched the two as they did their business. The girl—she had short brownish blonde hair and dark blue eyes, fair skin, wearing casual wear—noticed my presence and almost dropped the lamp. Shyly, she hid in embarrassment. The mother, I suppose, saw all of this, so she aided her by coming to greet me instead.

The woman introduced herself, "Hello, young boy. We happen to be new in this town. The name's Linda Hudson." Her way of talking seems quite polite and formal. She extended her hand for a shake.

I responded, "Um, the pleasure is mine..."

How she speaks; it's highly contagious. It's like a wave rushed towards you and you just had to go with the flow.

"My name's Martin Turner," I added. "I also just moved here, just now." I pointed to our ruckus. The movers were struggling to lift the fridge.

She looked across the street, and, with a bit of amazement, she smiled, "Oh, what a coincidence!"

A punch to the gutter.

The girl was nowhere to be seen now. Linda excused on her behalf. She explained, "Sorry, she's a bit startled and shy. I do hope you two can have a cup of tea sometime. Get to know each other."

A pause. The noises didn't cease, though.

She continued, pointing behind me, "Well, you apparently look like good company after all." She motioned to my dad. Dad, the eager, energetic person he was, was waving at me.

"I suspect you have some work to do. I'll leave you at it." She stepped back. "We both have quite a handful to do."

"I... I guess..."

"Toodle-oo, lad"

I run to the porch, where the old man was waiting. He grinned at me.

"New friends already, Martin?"

"I wouldn't say friends yet, Dad. I only met Mrs., um, Hudson, I think."

"Well, introduce me later. I earned six hundred thousand for this beauty, and I ain't wasting it," he said.

Looks like my guess was spot on.

I grabbed the nearest box I can carry and head inside.