The silence was overpowering, the room too quiet. I reached out to feel the reassuring lump of my sleeping husband, but his side of the bed was empty. I bounded out of bed, running through the house, flipping on lights, yelling Jim’s name. Fear sliced through my body with a burning wave of fire when I realized he was missing.
Knowing I couldn’t waste any time, I jumped in the car and
drove east, the direction he usually traveled, peering at the area penetrated
by the high beams of my headlights. Although I had a sense of urgency, I drove
cautiously because I didn’t want to hit Jim with the car. I had no idea how long
he’d been gone, and the farther I traveled without seeing him, the more I
panicked.
I reached the crossroads and without hesitation, turned
left, choosing Jim’s normal route. My mouth was getting dry. I pressed onward,
fear and worry jockeying for position in my mind. I rounded the next corner,
headlights slicing through the darkness. There he was! The tension drained from
my body, replaced with elation and relief.
Jim was fully dressed wearing jacket, jeans, and his
“Vietnam Veteran and Proud of It” cap. He seemed to be unaware of the car and
continued his measured tortoise pace, cane grasped in his left hand. I pulled
over and stopped behind him, climbed out of the car, speed walking to catch up
with him.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his bicep, and
he stopped as if he had applied his brakes.
“Honey, you scared me,” I said. “Come on, let’s go home,
and have some coffee.”
Copyright © December 2016 by L.S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment