by Dane Bagley
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The sun came up over the mountain top, but John was not rested. It has been a sleepless night; his mind had raced. He readied himself and went to the Peningham’s.
“I’m sorry, John,” said Mrs. Peningham. “She won’t come. This quarrel between you two has Sarah all worked up.”
“Please, I need to see her,” said John.
“I’ve already told her. I’ve pleaded for you, John. Her mind’s made up. You’ll have to give her time. I’m sorry, try back in a few days.”
“Please tell her, I love her.”
“John, I can’t tell her that for you…”
“Please tell her that I’ll miss her, and I’ll come back as soon as I return.”
“Return? Return from where? John…”
John Bennett had begun his way towards Sarah’s pool.
Mrs. Peningham shook her head as she shut the door. “Lovers quarrel,” she said out loud, but quietly.
“Sarah, honey, are you sure you don’t want to talk with him? That look in his eye…something’s not right.”
Sarah lay on her bed, face down in the pillow. Mrs. Peningham sat on the bed.
“He’s talking funny, too. Says he’ll come back when he returns—whatever that means?”
Sarah turned over with a look of terror on her face.
“What is it, honey?”
“I need to get dressed. I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, honey,” Mrs. Peningham said shaking her head while leaving the room and shutting the door.
Sarah felt both an adrenaline rush and numb at the same time. She struggled to get her night gown off and her clothes on. She walked around aimlessly in the room. Grabbing one shoe, but forgetting the other. She started to brush her hair and then lost interest.
“You’ve got to eat something,” yelled Mrs. Peningham as she rushed out the door.
“I’ve got to go,” said Sarah, running hurriedly down the path.