Step Into My World

Land of Vesda

What Lies Beneath

Chapter 1

Day One Tuesday

Running, I am running. My bare feet slap the thick dew covered reeds. I seem to be running as if I want to prevent something from happening. What am I running to? Or am I running from this fear that I feel gripping my soul? I have to keep going. I have to get somewhere. I can't be late.

The bridge, I have to get to the bridge. But why? A deep urgency propels me forward until I stop by the shore of the rushing river. Moon lit sprays tinged with silver drops lap the shore’s edge. I see the bridge. The cold air overwhelms me. I am only wearing my pink nightshirt.

I have to get there before he does, I tell myself.

My bare feet stumbled along the uneven river's edge as I try not to take my eyes off the metal span ahead.

The closer I approached the metal overpass crossing the Snake River, the further it moved away. Then in horror, I watched a car break through the side railing and fly over the rushing waters. It hovered in the air for the longest time until it hit the churning liquid with a tremendous splash. For a few moments, the auto floated, and I could see someone inside pounding against the driver’s window, trying to escape. Like a hungry monster, the river swallows the car with the occupant until the man inside could no longer be seen.

I jump into the river, hoping I could reach the drowning person, but the waters were too swift–

I sat up in my bed choking, gasping, and drenched with sweat. I ripped off my soaked nightshirt and oriented myself to the bedroom. I now realize I had another of those dreams about my husband's death and I was exhausted.

Since the sun wasn't shining through the curtains, yet. I figured it must be early in the morning. I looked at the time on my old radio clock. The time glowed six o'clock.

I rose from the bed and headed for the bathroom. When I turned on the sink water, I recalled most of the nightmare again. Only this time, certain details had faded. I splashed the luke warm water onto my face to wash the images down the sink, but they hung on.

As I looked into the mirror, I saw my dripping wet face. At that moment, I realized my husband will not be home.

Almost thirty days have passed since the accident. Where had the time gone? What had I been doing? The events seem so hazy, so distant and yet it felt like it happened yesterday.

I stepped into the shower stall and turned on the spray head full force to cover my back. As I turned to forget, the steady stream of water didn't wash the whole dream away from my mind. Only it wasn't a dream. It really happened. Not until now, did I become aware of that fateful day. I loved Henry. He was my wall I could lean on and bounce ideas off of him without criticism. He was my lover who released me from my daily stress. He understood and comforted me when I was sick or upset.

Oh, Henry why are you gone?  I cried aloud. The sun had begun to peek through the gaps in the drawn curtains of my bedroom. A breeze from my open window behind the drapes caused the sunlight to flicker and dance upon my carpeted floor.

I stepped out of the shower. First, I grabbed a small towel to wrap up my hair. Then, I pulled another towel off the door bar to dry myself off.

I recalled there were lots of people who had come into my house during the day of the funeral. There were his family, my sister, my daughter, and a few of his coworkers, who filled my small home, paying their respects. I wanted them to go away. Other than that, the memories of this past month are vague. My older sister stayed awhile, and later, my daughter came for a few days. I was glad she could, but she had to return to work and attend classes. Trisha, my good friend and neighbor, was always there helping me along. How could I have managed without her? She got me out of bed when I didn’t want to and cooked my meals.

Once I had dried off, I removed the towel from my head, and briskly rubbed my hair to remove the remaining moisture. I noticed a set of clothes piled on the nearby chair near my dressing table as I pulled on my briefs and hooked my bra. My clothes consisted of a plain red tshirt and my denim slacks I needed to tackle next. I wasn't slim by any stretch of the imagination with a midriff roll, but I wasn't overweight much. Why, at a time like this, was I thinking about my weight?

I sat in front of my vanity mirror across from my bed looking at the wild hairdo I had created with the towel rub and began laughing. I didn't really look funny, but somehow my reflection became someone else I didn’t recognize. I brushed my hair and returned myself to the familiar me I remembered. I set my hairbrush on the dresser top, and bent over to retrieve my shoes by the side of the drawers.

After the chore of putting on my shoes, I suddenly felt exhausted. I wanted to go back to bed, but that is where the nightmares begin. I walked toward the waving curtains of my open window and pulled them aside. I closed the windowpane and locked down the sash.

I guess I'm ready to face you world, I said to the view outside. l attempted leave the bedroom when I turned to put my brush and comb back into the drawer of the vanity top.

I don't know how long I stared at the vacant spot of vanity table when I realized that the hairbrush wasn't there. I must have put it away already, I thought and walked out of the room.

Across from my bedroom was my daughter’s former bedroom, now it was my sewing room. Jan, now twenty-two, had a part time job and college classes in Boise, and still single. I stopped at the doorway glancing over at my worktable piled high with projects I hadn’t finished. I could see a couple of pillowcases that needed mending. I must have put them there back in March. Thirty days, what was I doing in that time? The question kept returning until I shook my head to relieve me of unanswered queries.

I walked down the hall and turned to my right into my kitchen. There staring at me from the floor was my little black poodle, Mickie. He is so dark I can’t take a descent photo of him. All you see is his eyes.

I guess you’re hungry, I asked him as he danced on his tiny toes at my feet. Let's see where your food is. I didn't remember the last time I had fed him. Trisha came over lots of times. Maybe she filled his bowls. I opened a couple of drawers until I saw the bag of dry dog food. I scooped up a handful and deposited the small crunchies into his bowl. His water dish still had water, so I saw no need to bother with that.

As I returned down the hallway, I passed by the laundry room next to Jan’s old bedroom and gathered up the clothes remaining in the basket. How did they get there? Mickie stayed closed to my side and looked up at me.

I think I’ll do some wash, I told the dog and left to retrieve my night shirt to add to the pile. As I was dumping the basket of clothes into the top loading washer, a rusty red cloth caught my attention. It was Henry’s favorite tshirt with the funny monkeys on the front. He bought that shirt when we took a trip to the San Diego Zoo.

Without warning, a wave of emotion hit me from an unexpected shore that my husband was indeed dead. I crumpled and slid down the front cold steel of the washing machine with his tshirt pressed against my face. The tears came so easy as they gushed out of my eyes. I couldn’t stop. I hate crying. It messes up my sinuses and gives me a headache. But here I am smearing the tears away with my husband’s silly tshirt that was spotted with oil. I couldn’t think in my anguish until Mickie placed a paw on my knee.

That sweet cute face looked at me and whined. I had to laugh, he is such a sweetie all puffed up from a recent grooming. Wait, when did that happen? Maybe Trisha or my sister took him to the groomers. I must have been a mess.

I thought, until a few minutes ago, that I was holding up pretty well after the funeral, after the friends and family had left, and after the house became silent. My sister called me every morning to make sure I was all right.

As soon as I thought about that, the phone in the kitchen began ringing. I struggled to stand. I hurried back to the wall phone in the kitchen and grabbed the receiver.

Hello?

Susan? my sister asked. I just called to let you know that I will have some free time off in a couple of weeks if you are up to seeing my worried face again. How are you this morning?

My older sister Eilene of two years always watched out for me. She married into a well to do family that lived a few blocks from my dad’s house. Eilene didn’t have a paying job but involved herself in lots of volunteer work that kept her busy. There were times when I was younger I thought she tried to control my life before I married Henry. But between her and my neighbor for the last month, they kept me together throughout the days of the funeral.

I’m fine, I fed Mickie and now I’m doing the wash.

That’s great. Maybe we can go out to lunch sometime.

Yes, thanks for calling me. I wanted to hang up. She sounded too cheerful for me.

Okay, take care dear.

I heard the click in the handset and replaced the phone back onto its carriage. I know she means well, but I have to learn how to cope.

I returned to the utility room and started the clothes washer. In case my face might be smudged from the stained tshirt, I returned to my bathroom and checked in the mirror. Mickie kept in step behind my feet, Nope, I don’t see anything, I told his black furry face.

Mickie trotted behind me as I walked back  into  the kitchen. Maybe he is worried about me too–or hungry.

You already ate. I remember feeding you, but let’s see what I can find for my breakfast.

My dog trotted over to the back door by the kitchen counter and scratched on the door.

Oh, I guess you want out. I opened the door to let Mickie outside. The fresh cool breeze brushed against my face, awakening my senses. As I turned into the kitchen to see what I could find in the refrigerator, I discovered to my surprise lots of fruit, pastries, and eggs on the shelves.

I think I’ll just make coffee, I said, feeling overwhelmed by the food display. I shut the fridge door and began searching the cupboards for the coffee can. In the third door over from the end of the counter, I spied the red and black can.

Ah ha, I said aloud, feeling good from my searching abilities.

Taking a sniff, I determined my coffee maker was clean and someone had placed a fresh filter in the basket. Was it two tablespoons or three? I asked myself. There, written on the lid of the water reservoir, I reminded myself that it read three tablespoons and two cups of water.

There, that’s done. I shut the lid as I felt a sense of accomplishment.

For some reason, I decided to sit in the chair where Henry used to sit. The sun shining in from the large bay window behind me felt warm on my back, dissipating the chill within me. I began staring at the neat piles of papers stacked up before me. Some were bills and others were cards. The envelopes had been sliced open for my viewing. The cards looked like sympathy cards, and I didn’t want to look at them. I remembered all those people, who drifted in and out of my house. They told me that if there is anything they could do to let them know. What was I to say? Bring my Henry back?

Then the wave hit me again. That awful day those Firth City Officers appeared on my front porch. I was doing something, and whatever it was I wasn’t dressed for company. I felt ashamed now for being interrupted with my petty chores by the doorbell. There they were. One had his hat in his hands moving it around between his fingers as he tried to tell me something. The sky back then was filled with dark rolling clouds heavy with welcoming rain.

Ma’am, are you Susan Edwards? he asked?"

I nodded. Deep inside of me I knew why they were there, but my conscious mind would not accept what they were about to say.

Mrs. Edwards, we are sorry to inform you that your husband has been in an accident and he didn’t make it, ma’am.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the younger policeman behind him. He was a friend of my husband but his name eluded me for the moment.

No— I faltered, feeling the floor move as I slipped down against the open door.

Ma’am are you all right, is there someone we can call? His voice sounded far away.

Trish, Trisha—next door. Then blackness overtook me.

When I awoke, Trisha was sitting beside me while I stretched out on my couch. I heard her tell the officers that she would take care of me. All I could see beyond my friend was a large pair of boots on my nice clean carpet.

You sure you don’t want us to call the paramedics? the younger officer asked.

No, Trisha replied. I’ll call her relatives. Thank you again. They must have taken their leave because I noticed the boots were gone.

No, it can’t be. Henry—

You stay here, I’m calling your sister and Jan. Honey, I will take care of everything. And she did.

When my coffee maker quit perculating, I pulled a cup out of the cupboard near the sink and poured myself a cup. I had just sat down at the kitchen table when I heard a knock at the back door. I heard what sounded like a key inserting into the lock. I grabbed a metal spatula still lying on the table. Then I heard Trisha call out. I relaxed and set the spatula down on the table.

Hi! Are you up yet? she asked. When someone enters my back door, they either have to turn right into my kitchen or go straight ahead downstairs to the basement.

Yes, I am, come in. I said, rising from the kitchen table.

Oh, stay right where you are, she said, allowing my dog to come back inside. She then closed the door. Great, you made coffee. I’m proud of you.

And I fed Mickie, he’s proud of me too.

I bet he is. You look better, hungry?

Yes, but where did all the food come from? I know funeral food doesn’t last this long.

Larry and I went shopping yesterday. You only had some sour milk and some donuts left. Don’t you remember me coming yesterday, hauling in bags of groceries?

Now that you mention it, yes I do, but I had forgotten about the food I guess. I’m sorry if I have been such a loon this past month.

Nonsense, I would probably be in the same fix if something happened to my Larry. I know you would be there for me if that happened. Here, I brought in your newspaper. Not much happens in our little city, but the cartoons on the back page ought to cheer you up. Trisha placed the rolled up paper near my placemat on the table.

It’s like I have been in a fog treading, uh, water, I croaked fighting back the reoccurring morning dream.

Did you have another nightmare again?

Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it.

I know honey, but you have to get it out or it will eat you up. If not me, your doctor? Trisha asked?"

No, he wouldn’t understand, you’re fine. When I can control the waterworks, I’ll talk to you.

Deal. Now how about I fix you some eggs and toast? She didn’t need me to answer as she forged ahead into my pan collection under the counter. I heard her rummaging through my utensil drawer until she found a tephlon covered spatula. I would have offered the one on the table, but she moved faster than I could.

Thanks, I replied, sipping my luke  warm  coffee. I stood up and poured myself another cupful.

Within a few minutes, my best friend and neighbor had fixed an egg and cheese omelet and sliced wheat toast.

I know you don’t like a lot of greasy things with your GERD problem, so I left the butter off the toast. Here’s some blackberry jam if you want it, she said, placing the full plate and jam jar down in front of me. I thanked her and once again stared at the pile of envelopes that looked like bills.

I guess I’ll have to tackle name changes, I said munching and pointing my fork at the stack. I proceeded to smear some of the jam onto one of the two slices of toast from my plate.

All taken care of, Trisha said. Remember I drove you down to the bank and the power company, gave them Henry’s death certificate from the mortuary, and got your name converted over?"

I just stared at her and was amazed that she said all that in one sentence. I scooped up some of the egg concoction onto my fork.

The water and gas too? I asked.

Yes, all done. I think you were there in body but not in spirit. That bank manager kept looking at you and me. He was wanting to make sure you weren’t being forced to do it. Well, I set him straight and he remembered who Henry was. He had bought some insurance from your husband. After that, everything went smooth.

Thank you Trisha, I don’t know what I would have done without you.

And... did you know you have a safety deposit box at the bank?

It took me a couple of seconds to think, Yes, Henry had bought some stock and left it in there.

Good place for them, and he also left enough funds in your savings so you won’t need any for several months.

Maybe I should find a job? I asked not sure if I wanted one.

I placed the remaining egg in between the two slices of toast to make an egg sandwich. The combination sure tasted good.

She looked at me. Only if and when you feel ready. For now, I have to go. School is out but I signed my sweet darling kids up for swimming lessons. Got to keep them busy or they find their own mischief.

I know, but remember when we were kids and we roamed all over town without fear from anything?

Yeah. Gone are the good ol’ days. Well, bye now. Lock your door after me.

As soon as she left, I rose up and watched her hold her sweater across her chest to keep out the chilly air of the morning. She ambled across my back yard and opened my chain link fence gate to return toward her house. The lawn looked mowed. I hope she didn’t do that too, I thought. The day looked like it was going to be a sunny one as I clicked the deadbolt over by the back door knob.

I finished my breakfast and heard the high pitched beep from the utility room. The wash was done. Since it seemed like it was going to be a nice day, I decided to haul the basket of washed clothes outside. Just enough breeze out there to fluff them dry. Mickie followed me out. I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the porch. The air smelled like my fresh cleaned wash.

Chapter 2

Day Two Wednesday

Cold water was flowing around me. I was swimming. The closer I reached my goal, the farther I seemed to be. I could see an object shining in the muddy waters below. I’m almost there. I can see someone. Mickie?

My dog was pushing on my chest waking me up as the sinking vehicle morphed into my poodle’s face. It was almost seven thirty in the morning. I could see the sun shafting through the half-inch opening spread of the window curtain.

I’m sorry. You need to go outside don’t you? I asked, thinking it was a silly question. Still in my night tshirt, I scrambled barefoot down the hall and opened the kitchen door to let the dog out. Just as I opened the screen door, the phone rang.

Hello?

Hi hon, would it be okay if I come over later? Trisha asked.

No problem. Me and Mickie will get along, I assured her.

I know you will. My kid’s soccer practice is this morning and Larry has already gone to work.

Don’t worry about me. Say hi to them for me.

I will, bye. She hung up.

Since I hadn’t dressed yet, I barefooted back to my room. ‘My’ room used to be ‘our’ room. I sighed and was glad the dream had faded. I still couldn’t find my hairbrush and decided to use a comb on my shoulder length hair. I’d like to reason maybe the former landowner, Mrs. Weatherby, needed my things more than I did. She was long gone by the time we had purchased this property from her surviving relatives.

After I dressed, I noticed my sewing room through the open doorway again. This used to be my daughter’s bedroom. Gone were all the frills of my daughter’s childhood, the posters from school, and finally the modern purple and yellow décor she insisted on before she left for college. After I had discussed it with her, she agreed to my task of moving her things to the downstairs room. If she did return, she wouldn’t have to be next to our room and have more privacy. Jan began living in the dorm. By the next summer, she found work and rented a small apartment. I cleaned out her old bedroom, leaving just her unmade twin bed alone in the room.

You really meant it when you told me you were going to change things in here, Henry had said as he watched me haul boxes of her unwanted stuff out.

Yes, what do you think?

I think we need to christen the room before I go to work. He gave me that romantic look in his eye that I knew so well.

Oh, and how shall we do that, Mister? I cooed with innocence. Before I knew it, he picked me up and carried me across the narrow threshold where he set me down upon my daughter’s bare bed. We made love there. As I recalled the memory, a tear rolled down my cheek. I swatted the moisture away and entered my remodeled sewing room.

On the table, I had a couple of pillowcases that were undone at the seams. I always stare at the sewing machine like it is the formable contraption it is. It is always jamming or knotting up underneath the fabric. I held the spool thread and guided it with care down in front of the bearing I could see within the slot on top. I then threaded the needle. I could have used the automatic threader, but I forgot how I did it. Doing this little job myself seemed easier. Digging out the manual seemed too hard a chore, right now.

I fed a sample swatch to make sure the sewing machine wasn’t going to rebel on me. Satisfied that the stitching looked good, I fed the corner of the pillowcase selvages under the presser foot. Done. I picked up the yellow handled scissors and trimmed the excess thread away. Now I’m ready for the second pillowcase. I turned it inside out like I did the first one and began feeding it through the machine, making sure I backed the needle up to lock the stitches at the end of the stitching.

I started to reach for my scissors when my nails hit the empty spot on the table near my machine where I thought I had placed them.

Now where did that go? I asked myself aloud.

Mickie was scratching at the back door. Distracted, I dropped the floral pillowcases onto my chair and left the sewing room to let my dog in.

We need to install a doggie door for you, I chided but since I had nothing else to do, I pushed that idea out of my mind for now. Mickie followed me back to my sewing endeavor. I searched under all the forgotten projects on my table and still couldn’t find those scissors.

Oh well, I sighed, as I opened the top drawer on my right to retrieve another pair. I trimmed the pillowcase dangling threads and turned off my machine. Folding both cases, I placed them into the linen closet at the end of the hallway near my room.

Walking back toward the kitchen I heard a ‘thump’ at the front door. Must be the paper, I told Mickie who started to bark.

Let’s see, I urged him on as I began opening the door. Aw, it’s just the newspaper. He had stepped out onto the front step. Come on back inside, I said shooing him back into the living room. Hmm, I just realized I haven’t eaten yet nor have you fella. Let’s go make some pancakes.

Arf he replied looking hungry.

I located the pancake mix and a bowl. I poured some of the premixed flour into the bowl and added a little bit of dry milk for volume. A memory reminded me that Henry loved pancakes, and made me some every Sunday from scratch. I like the quick and easy way. He never complained about the premix ones I made. Shaking the thought away, I poured the batter into the heated skillet. I opened the utensil drawer and drew out the metal spatula. After a few seconds, I flipped the light golden brown circle of cooking dough over in the pan.

In a few more seconds, the pancake looked done. But where was the spatula? I know I put it right next to the burners. I grumbled to myself picking up the pan and letting the pancake slide onto my plate.

I felt disturbed by the missing instrument, but I remained in a good mood as I carried my accomplishment over to the table. Then it started to gnaw on me. Where is my spatula? I returned to the stove and looked in the sink. There it was. Now how did it get over there? I sighed. That’s when I heard my plate on the table fall to the floor.

No, Mickie! Oh you were hungry weren’t you? I think I’ll just have cereal, I said, noticing the unbroken plate on the floor. Thank goodness, we had flexible linoleum installed to prevent breakages. The cooked pancake encrusted all over Mickie’s muzzle. He looked at me without remorse and continued to eat the remains off the floor. I retrieved a washcloth from the sink and wiped up the residue.

I dropped the washcloth into the sink. I turned and reached into the cupboard to pull out a box of cereal. I opened the fridge and removed the milk carton from one of the door pockets. After I obtained a bowl from the cupboard, I proceeded to fill it up with the cereal and splashed a little milk over the flakes. I could see the stack of bills in front of me and decided to choose one. It was a credit card bill. I was almost afraid of opening it up because it might have some of the funeral expenses listed on the statement. Glancing over it, I could see the grocery store, the local hardware store, the automatic insurance payment, and the monument company listed.

Henry was always frugal, so I was surprised when he told me he had taken out insurance on himself six months ago.

I just want you to be taken care of if and when I am gone, he explained at the time. I thought nothing of that until now.

And I hope that won’t be for a long long time, I replied smiling. Is there anything I should be concerned about, I mean you never showed an interest in being covered, just selling insurance to others.

No, everything is fine, he assured me.

The total of the headstone came to over seventeen hundred dollars, and the casket cost hadn’t been listed yet. Maybe Trisha or my sister handled that too. Then I heard the front doorbell ring.

I didn’t expect anyone this morning, since Trisha said she wouldn’t come by until this afternoon, I headed for the front door and peeked through the eyehole in the middle of the paneling. I was surprised to see Henry’s coworker and partner.

I left the chain connected as I cracked the door open with Mickie by my feet on guard.

Hi Bob, what can I do for you? I asked.

Just making sure you are okay, he said, eyeing the door chain across my face. I didn’t want to bother you about this before, but it has become important now. Bob was one of those people that smile all the time while he talks to you. I guess you have to behappy looking in order to sell insurance. He was fifteen years younger than my Henry, handsome, and still single.

What is it, Bob?

Uh, Henry was working on a client of ours, and I thought maybe he left the file here at your home. Mickie growled.

It’s not in his desk or a file cabinet somewhere at work? I asked. For some reason, I felt a little impatient with him. I don’t know why. He has shown me nothing but kindness in his relationship with Henry.

No, uh, it’s not at the office. Maybe I’ll try later when you are feeling better. Uh, it’s the MerryMaid file.

I feel just fine, Bob. Tell you what. I’ll look for it later today. If I find anything, I’ll give you a call.

Yes, of course, you will. Thanks, Susan. He turned and walked back to his car the same time as Trisha strolled up to my front steps.

What did he want? She asked as I invited her inside.

Just a file, come on in. I thought you weren’t coming over until this afternoon?

I still am, I just noticed his car and wondered what he was up to.

Oh, he’s okay. He and Henry were good friends.

Maybe so, but this is the sixth or is it the seventh time I have seen his car parked out here. Oh, here’s your mail from yesterday. Don’t want it to look like you’re not home.

Thanks, you sure you don’t want to come in?

Not now, I’m due to pick my kids up from their grandma and go out to lunch. I’ll be back later this afternoon.

Have fun, I said. We said our good-byes and I watched her head on home.

The thought of re-entering Henry’s study seemed monumental to me. I didn’t want to do it. He furnished a nice cozy office from another spare room off the kitchen and living room. Right now the door remained shut. He would often bring his work home, but never obsess over it. Come to think of it, we made love on his new leather couch in there.

As I placed my hand on the doorknob, the phone rang on my kitchen wall. I sighed as I walked over to answer it.

Hello? I answered.

Mom? Where is Trisha? my daughter’s voice said?"

Nice to hear from you too. She is with her family right now.

I’m sorry, mom. How are you feeling today?

Better than when you saw me last. I fed the dog, made my breakfast this morning (I didn’t want to tell her about my pancake eating dog), and I washed clothes. How about that?

You sound great. You even talk like your old self.

When will you come home to visit?

That’s another reason why I called. I found a better job in Boise. I won’t be coming until the end of August before the next semester starts.

To say the least I was disappointed she wouldn’t be visiting but glad she had a job she liked.

That’s great honey. You’re just like your dad, always ambitious about something. I’ll have your new room downstairs ready for you when you come. Don’t  worry  about me, Trisha has been watching over me like a border collie.

I miss him, mom. I could hear a sad tone in her words.

I do too, hon. Take care, Jan, I said, feeling the moisture well up under my eyelids.

I will, bye bye.

Love you, I choked, then we both hung up.

I reached for a tissue from the tissue box and dabbed my eyes before I blew my nose. I hoped Jan didn’t notice the change in my voice before she hung up. I walked into the living room and picked up the forgotten newspaper Trisha had left. All I could see on the front page was the same ol’ same ol’ news. I tossed the paper back down on the couch.

My eyes were drawn toward Henry’s study. What the heck, it’s just a room, I tried to tell myself as I walked closer to the closed door. I turned the brass knob and it opened with ease. For a flash of a second, a memory passed through my thoughts of this door left ajar, but it left as fast as the glimmer had arrived. I almost wasn’t aware of it by the time I opened the study room door. It was just a minuscule instant. That’s all.

Standing in the doorway, I could see my husband’s impressive wooden desk that he had ordered from the cabinet shop. It had deep scrolls carved on the front panel. The wall shelf behind his desk chair was filled with various books of many genres. He loved mysteries and science. At the end of the room the window bathed the floor with its sunlight, making everything seem so warm, and of course, there was the couch. I could feel his presence. That was all I could take today I said to myself, and closed the door behind me as I returned to the kitchen. The stack of cards in the center of the table caught my attention. I headed over a kitchen drawer to find something to write on.

Searching through the kitchen junk drawer, as we called it, I came across a spiral bound notepad. I could hear myself say, Jot down the names from the sympathy cards. So I located one of the expensive imprinted pens Henry had purchased for the business, and proceeded to sit at the kitchen table. Each one pretty much stated the same thing, but I did notice a lot of Henry’s family had cards in the pile. There was one from all his coworkers at his insurance company and a single one from Bob. Good ol’ Bob. I stopped. Before Henry di– died, the elder partner, Quintan Samuels, had died two months earlier. We had signed a group card for his family. Samuels was in his eighties so it wasn’t a surprise. Everyone had to shift around to make up the work schedules. How odd to think of that.

Of course, here are the ones from my sister and her family, Jan, and Trisha’s family. Hmm, what’s this? It was a piece of paper with a series of numbers on it. It wasn’t a bank account, I know that number. It wasn’t a telephone number, too long. Oh well, we’ll get to that another time, I told myself placing the innocuous scrap aside the stack of bills.

I was going to make a note of that when I discovered my pen had turned up missing.

What the–? I said aloud searching under the various papers lying on the table. I looked at Mickie who cocked his head, You didn’t eat my pen did you? I joked but was still frustrated about it being missing.

Why does everything disappear in this house? I moaned. Rats, I’ll just get another one. Henry and I used to joke about the former owner of the land we built our house on was a ghost who snitched things. I checked the other chair I used to sit in to make sure my pen hadn’t rolled onto it, but no luck.

I went back to the junk drawer and pulled out another pen and returned to my task at the table. Now what was I going to write down? I couldn’t remember. Well, I guess I’ll pay the bills.

I wrote out three payment checks for the bills that needed to be paid and pressed a stamp on the corner of the envelope.

When my stomach growled, I realized I was hungry. My wall clock said it was three thirty. Where had the time gone? I thought about making a sandwich and locating one of my favorite books to read. I scanned the refrigerator contents, and pulled out some bread and sliced ham when I heard knocking on my back door. The time was now four fifteen by my oven clock.

Since Trisha didn’t use her key, I got up and opened the door.

Hi, are you busy?

No, just decided to pay some bills and have a sandwich.

Sounds depressing, but we can talk more over at my house. You can put the sandwich away.

Your house?

Yes, we are having pizza for dinner. Would you like to join us?

Oh, I don’t know.

Come, it will be good for you to be around family. We always have leftovers. Please say yes.

Oh, I guess I don’t have any big plans for tonight, I joked glancing at my watch.

Good, I see you’re getting your sense of humor back.

Let’s sit in the living room. I have something to ask you. I led the way and sat on one of the corner seats of the couch.

Sure what is it? Trisha asked sitting down in one of the cushioned chairs by the fireplace. Mickie followed us and jumped up onto the couch settling his small body into his favorite pillow near me.

This may sound odd, but have you ever had something turn up missing that you were just using, only then to have it disappear, and sometimes you would find it again?

All the time. But it’s usually because I put it down and didn’t pay attention where I laid it. Does that help?

"I guess. It’s just a couple of those things have turned up missing lately though I did find one of them later.

See. You’re still grieving and grief does funny things to a person. Your mind will get better as time goes on.

I hope so, I replied, stroking the black hair on my little dog. He loved to curl up on my plush pillow I made years ago.

It will. Okay, are you ready for pizza?

Yes. I think I’ll leave Mickie outside so he doesn’t get any foolish ideas that my pillows are dog toys.

He was the perfect gentleman all the time I was taking care of him.

You are talking about my dog, aren’t you?

Come, let’s eat. I got hungry kids at home.

Chapter 3

Day Three Thursday

This time the dream was short. I saw the car fly into the air and in the next moment, I’m struggling to open the driver’s door. I saw Henry’s face. I woke up dry this time and jumped out of bed as if the dream would pull me back in. I headed for the toilet. After I showered and dressed, I returned to my bedroom. There was Mickie staring at me.

I’m up and ready little dog. Let’s go outside.

He barked and galloped down the hall ahead of me toward the back door. I opened the door to see what kind of day it was and noted it was sunny with a few puffy clouds against the blue sky. A chill was still in the June air but smelled fresh to my senses.

Hmm, this looks like a good time to have a hot chocolate, I said to myself, pulling out a teaspoon from the silverware drawer. I retrieved my funny ‘pig on top of some chocolate’ cup that a friend gave me, and warmed up a glass of water in the microwave. It took two minutes and ‘dinged’ when it was ready. Locating a package of dark hot chocolate in the cupboard, I promptly tore the top off. I poured the dry ingredients into the cup first and looked around for my spoon. Oh no, not again. Then in my search, I found it just lying there in the sink. I frowned at it, and then I decided to get another one out of the drawer. I poured the hot water into the cup and stirred it for a few seconds until all the powder dissolved. Since the sunshine was inviting me outside, I picked up my steaming hot cup and walked out the back door.

I don’t remember the last time I sat on our porch swing. Was it last year, or the year before? Between Henry’s work and my activities helping Trisha at church, the time just flew by.

I eased myself down on the wood slats of the chain held bench. The winter weather had been rough on it, but I could tell by the steel loops holding the chain from the porch roof that the swing was still sturdy. As I sipped my hot drink, I watched my little poodle sniff every plant in the yard until he decided my maple tree was the best one to do his business. When he as he finished, he just ran as if the devil was on his short pom tail. I began to laugh.

I held my warm cup in my hands to keep them warm. When I took another sip, I could hear the phone ringing and guessed it must be Trisha. I set my half-finished cup down on the covered air conditioner near the swing, before I ran into the kitchen to answer the phone.

Hello, I answered when I picked up the handset.

Well, you sound chipper, replied Trisha’s voice.

Yes, I just had some hot chocolate.

Sounds yummy, I’ll be right over with mine.

No, you can come now, there’s plenty in my cupboard. I knew I could never repay Trisha for all the help she gave me. Whatever she wanted, I would give her, but I knew she would refuse.

Okay, see ya. With that she hung up. Within a minute, she was at my back gate shooing Mickie away from the gate entrance.

I reached to pick up my cup and emitted a funny sound that peaked Trisha’s interest.

What is it, hon? She asked.

My cup. I know I left it right there and now it’s gone! I thought I was going to lose it.

Maybe you brought it in when you answered my phone call.

No, I remember—

We both returned to the kitchen.

See there in the sink. This is your cup isn’t it? she asked, gesturing toward my cup.

I stared at it. But it’s entirely empty. I know I left a few more gulps in it. Oh, never mind. Maybe I did bring it in. I just don’t remember.

Look it’s almost lunchtime. How do you feel about going to Romero’s, she suggested. I knew she was trying to get me focused away from the empty cup.

Suddenly, I don’t feel too hungry, I told her.

Maybe now, but you know once you are in Romero’s, and smell the pizza and marinara sauce, you know you’ll be hungry.

Okay, you convinced me. Since I don’t have a car– Think nothing of it. Mine is ready to go at all times of the day.

—-

Firth, Idaho is a small community consisting of two grocery stores, three gas stations, one pizza joint, two banks and several little cottage shops along Main Street, including Henry’s title and insurance building. It’s a farming town where potatoes and wheat are processed. Romero’s was one of the brightest spots in town to get a good lunch and dinner. The restaurant had to serve good food to keep people from driving the short distances to the nearby towns of Shelley, Idaho Falls or Blackfoot.

I’m glad you ask me to come here. I feel better already, I said wolfing down the delicious spaghetti I had ordered.

You are welcome my friend.

Bob Cole called me last night, I began.

And?

He just wanted to remind me about the file he wants.

And?

I told him I would look for it tonight.

Do you have to?

Well, if it gets him off  my  case about it. I stirred my spaghetti strands onto my fork and savored the tomato sauce in my mouth.

Do you want me to be there when you go into the study?

No, I have to go into that room someday. I looked inside last night, besides I need to do this on my own.

Okay, but call me if you want any help.

I will. How about I treat you to lunch tomorrow?

If you insist.

I do.

Trisha took another bite out of her turkey sandwich.

We drove into Idaho Falls, about fifteen miles away, and shopped at the mall. We had fun looking at all the new young styles in the display windows and getting ourselves a pop to drink in the food court.

Driving home, we talked about the old times when she and her husband Larry used to play cards or miniature golf with Henry and me. She drove me home to my front sidewalk.

Here you are. Now doesn’t the time go fast when you’re having fun? she giggled.

Yes, it does.

I ran up to the front door and unlocked it. Mickie greeted me with his whole body wiggling as if I had left him alone for a lifetime. Then the wall phone rang. I closed the door and ran to answer it.

Hi, Susan, said the familiar voice from Bob.

Hi, Bob. I just got in and I was just going to look in Henry’s study tonight. Will that be okay?

I could help you.

No this is something I have to do by myself. I will call you if I find anything.

I didn’t hear anything for a moment, and then he replied, Okay, I’m counting on you.

Goodbye, Bob. I hung up.

Come on Mick, let’s see what’s in daddy’s study, I told the little dog and proceeded toward the closed door near the living room. When I entered, I could see that it looked the same as it did yesterday. Did I think it would change?

I decided to start with the desk drawers first, as that is where I would keep a file if I needed it. Henry had a safe behind his desk chair, and that would be next. I opened the top middle drawer and after retrieving some receipts, I decided there wasn’t a MerryMaid folder there. Then I opened the top right drawer and gasped. A gun.  It was just lying there. Why would Henry need a gun? I then noticed he had his initials engraved on the bottom of the butt handle. From my viewing angle, I could see some shells in the chamber. A couple of loose bullets rolled toward the front of the drawer as I sifted on all sides around the weapon. I still didn’t find any insurance folders.

I closed the drawer a few inches at a time as if the fact that the pistol would go off if I shut the drawer too hard. I then moved down to the second drawer and fingered across the tabs. I found his receipt file and one that said Insurance. The last drawer just held copy paper for the printer. I turned around to look at the safe when I spied that silly snow globe I had given him from Targhee Ski Resort on the shelf above. I shook it and the glittering flakes fell back and forth over the tiny skier going downhill past some plastic trees. I sighed and replaced the globe back on the shelf, and bent down to return my focus toward his safe.

He used his and my birthdates for the combination, so after a couple of tries, I pulled on the lever and it opened. A small amount of cash lay inside on the top shelf. I spotted a few vanilla folders and drew them out for a closer inspection. None of the files were for MerryMaid Industries. I don’t remember him ever talking about that company but why would he? And since I don’t remember much anyway, what does it matter now?

His briefcase was on the left side of his desk. After a quick examination, I found nothing of importance.

The phone on his desk rang. I stared at desk phone for a few seconds, since Henry had a different phone number than the house. I answered it.

Susan? I couldn’t place the voice.

Yes, this is her.

This is Harold, remember me? It was Henry’s other partner. There were three partners under the old owner. Then when old man Samuels died, Henry and Bob took over shared responsibilities and gained more shares from the owner’s passing. Harold was older but didn’t have the needed tenure or the funds to become an equal partner.

Yes, Harold. How are you?

Fine, uh Bob asked me to call you to see if you found the file we need.

No, I have looked through his desk, his safe and his briefcase. No MerryMaid files here.

Okay, I’ll talk to you later. With that, he hung up.

Chapter 4

Day Four Friday

I’m in a car. There’s a sense of foreboding and yet this particular vehicle seems familiar. Sitting in the back seat I look around and conclude that this is our car, Henry’s car. I could see the back of the driver’s head and just thought it was a taxi driver until the man’s face turns and looks right for oncoming traffic. I gasped. It’s Henry. Stop! I yelled but only silence comes from my mouth. Stop Henry! Pull over! I shout in vain, as my husband begins to enter the bridge to cross the Snake River. Henry has begun to advance into the left turn lane, when without warning a red car pulls up alongside our right back fender and hits us with such a force that Henry has no choice but to swerve and smash into the right guardrail.

I screamed. I could still see the last vision of the railing shrapnel flying about my face until the scene faded and my bedroom appeared before me. I sat up. My eyes looked up straight ahead and I could see myself staring back from my vanity mirror in front of my bed. I my face still reflected the horror I witnessed.

As I was swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, my little dog came running over and whined. Was he concerned about me or was he just hungry? No matter, I’m getting up. Glancing at my radio clock, I saw the time was seven oh five.

By the time I dressed and prepared some scrambled eggs, I heard the front doorbell ring. I noticed that my book, I thought about reading later, laid on one of the chair accent tables by the door.

Now who could it be at this hour of the morning? I asked Mickie who just cocked his head in response. "It better not be Bob or I might tell him off this time. I scooped the eggs onto my plate and held firm to the spatula, just to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere.

I hurried over to the front door and looked through the spy hole in the center of the door and determined it was one of my friends, Sally from church. Faithful Mickie was on my heels.

Hi, I greeted her with a large smile.

Just came over to see if you are up for a short visit, Sally stated. Nothing is ever short with Sally who loves to gossip. If you want the neighborhood to know something, just tell Sally Montgomery.

Come on in, I was just making myself some breakfast. Would you care for a muffin? Sally didn’t need it but I thought I would ask just to be considerate.

Oh no, I shouldn’t. I just ate myself. What kind is it? She asked feeling the will power drift out of her reach.

Pumpkin raisin.

Ooo I’ll just try a half, she replied. I knew she would eat the whole thing before she left.

Couch, chair? Have your pick, I suggested and left the living room to gather my eggs and pick out the muffin from its container. Placing it on another plate, I pulled out a table knife and sliced it sideways so she could feel I was listening to her request about the half muffin. Picking up both plates, one in each hand, I could hear her call, Do you need any help in there?

I responded, No I’m coming. Just as I took a step toward the living room archway I witnessed Sally’s fork fading, and then it was gone from her plate. I couldn’t let her know I was now seeing things since she could probably see me from the other room. I took a deep breath and marched toward her.

Mickie had decided to curl up on his favorite couch pillow in the opposite corner from Sally.

Here you are, I said, handing the sliced muffin plate to her. Oh I forgot your fork, I‘ll get some juice too. Do you like apple or orange?

Orange will be fine. Are you all right? You look a little pale, she said, staring at me.

I’m not completely awake yet, I lied high-tailing it back to the kitchen. For a moment, I leaned against the counter breathing slower to relax. Did I really see that fork disappear? After I felt composed, I turned to open the fridge for the juice when I heard–

I must have jumped. Sally was at the archway dipping half of her enormous bosom into the kitchen.

Are you sure you are all right?

Yes, you just startled me, that’s all. I didn’t hear you walk in.

I just got up to ask you rather than yell that I changed my mind. I want apple instead of orange juice. Is that okay?

No problem. I like it too. I poured her a glass. Here’s yours and here’s your fork," I offered her and poured another for myself.

So what’s going on, Sally? I wanted this visit to be over as soon as possible.

Oh, we have a children’s play at the end of June. I don’t suppose you can help us again this year, sewing the costumes I mean, she explained, eyeing the remaining half muffin on her plate after she had stuffed the first one into her mouth.

I don’t know if I can. You know I haven’t been my normal self this last month—with Henry gone, maybe next year. I took a stab at my cold eggs.

Oh, I realize that. I wasn’t inferring you had to do it all. I also have Candice and Rene’ helping out too. Some of the costumes are ready. You just have to alter them for the children’s sizes.

I had to be strong. I just can’t commit at this time, thanks for asking me.

Will I see you in church this Sunday? she asked, pushing the remaining muffin into her puffy cheeks.

I frowned