"The car!" she cried, and she pointed at it. "Look out!"

Her father turned to look, just as the car rolled past him so close that the mirror on the side knocked the cooler right out of his hands. Mamma turned slowly, and Kira heard her dad shouting her mother's name.

She must have seen it, Kira thought. But not in time.

Kira closed her eyes tight just before the inevitable happened. And by the time she opened them again, the car's nose was in the water.

She lifted her gaze to see how bad things were, even though she was afraid to look. The red cooler lay on its side, its white lid open, their picnic spilled all over the grass. Macaroni salad and rolls and the chocolate cake she'd helped her mamma frost that very morning, lay ruined and broken. Pappa was on his feet, holding one arm across his chest as if something were wrong with it, even as he stumbled down the hill. He had the most horrible look on his face.

Kira looked for her mamma. The picnic table was crushed. She could see a bit of blue beside it, and that must be her mamma's dress. Kira came out of the water, sloshing step by step.

Other picnickers had come running by now, gathering around, looking and pointing. Someone shouted "Call an ambulance!" and others went running to obey. But mostly they were just looking.

Kira crept around the table. By then her pappa was on his knees beside Mamma. And she heard her mother's voice, weak and slurred.

"It's the curse. It's the curse. Oh, Paul, how could ya?"

"There's no curse. You're gonna be fine," Pappa said.

"I'm dying. You have to tell her, Paul. When she's older, tell her. Before it's too late, warn her. Tell her, Paul."

"Mamma?"

Kira had made her way closer, and stood right beside her parents. Mamma's middle looked almost flattened, and there was a lot of blood on the skirt of her blue dress. Her legs lay all twisted and cockeyed, and they didn't move at all. It was almost like her mamma couldn't feel how messed up they were. Her skin was so white. And her eyes looked far away.