“I’ve come back home today to send you a very important message. It isn’t what you think it might be. Yes, you know it’s crucial to give everything your best shot, but what I want to talk about is something you probably don’t even think twice about. How many of you here have cell phones?”

Two-thirds of the audience raised their hands. Puzzled looks began to appear on faces.

“I suspect you have heard that I’ve been dating Coeur d’Alene actress Samantha Meiko?”

Cheers erupted and the tall boy in front shouted out, “She’s hot!” Others near him laughed and bobbed their heads up and down.

Inwardly, Tim winced. “Well, what I have to tell you is this. Me and Samantha, we’ve done a lot of arguing. People who date often do.” More heads nodded sagely. This was something they all knew about from older brothers and sisters.

“This last March, we had a big blow-up. I’d been in Los Angeles, but had to drive back to Vegas to film a commercial. Sam was really angry at me because she wanted me to stay an extra day and accompany her to a big party at some director’s house.” She’d gotten the misguided idea that this director would want to hire Tim for a part in his upcoming action adventure film. He’d no interest in acting; his life was about the running, and later when he got older, maybe coaching.

“I was driving through a mountain pass and it was getting near dusk, the light was fading fast. Sam kept calling and then texting me when I wouldn’t pick up my cell. I should have thrown it out the window.”

The auditorium had grown quiet, very quiet save for the slight rustle of kids squirming in their seats. They’d realized what he had to tell them wasn’t going to be something pleasant.

“She’d texted me fifteen times,” Tim said in a level voice. “Her threats had grown very dramatic. I kept reading the texts instead of watching where I was going.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

“When call number sixteen came in, I was in a rage. I grabbed up the phone and started to text her something short and impolite.” He tried to grin, but felt his mouth made more of a grimace than anything else. “I wasn’t looking hard at the road and I veered into the oncoming lane. My Ford Expedition crashed headlong into a Honda Accord.”

He lifted the hands that had been gripping the podium and bent down to a briefcase he’d carried with him. The top was open so he could dip in and take out four 11 x 14 inch color photographs. He held up the first one.

“The car I hit belonged to Bradley Seever, a local firefighter in the town I’d just passed through. He was thirty-four.” A second photo replaced the first. “His wife, Renee was with him in the passenger side. The Honda was totaled and began to burn from the ruptured gas tank. I managed to get out of my vehicle and pull the kid in the back free from the wreckage.”

Tim lifted up the third photo and moved it in an arc back and forth. “His name was Ronnie Seever, and he’d just turned seven. I got him out of the car but he was already gone. All three of them were gone. Just like that.” Tim snapped his fingers abruptly, and small squeaks issued from trembling mouths. A cluster of girls sitting together started crying. Even a few boys brushed their eyes while assuming furiously intent frowns.