by Mark Bentsen
“Sure. Do you have any idea how long it’ll take before I can see a doctor?”
“We’re real busy this morning,” she said. “Probably an hour, maybe more.”
Bonnie remembered Rita had said to let her know when they arrived and hoped she could get her in quicker. “I understand,” she said politely, “but Rita told me to let her know when I got here. Can you do that?”
“Yes, ma’am, I will.”
Bonnie took the clipboard and turned to find a seat. The only one available was between a man in a business suit and a huge Native American man. When she sat between the two men, the Native American looked down at the elastic bandage on her wrist.
“Looks like you hurt your arm?”
Without a doubt, he was easily the biggest man she had ever seen. He appeared to be in his mid-forties with straight black hair tied in a ponytail that hung a foot past his collar. His arms crossed his chest and his sleeveless shirt exposed a tattoo on each bicep. One was of an Indian chief and the other had barbed wire encircling his arm. In his left ear a small diamond earring sparkled and from his belt she saw a long hunting knife in a scabbard.
“Yes, I did.” She put her purse down beside her chair.
He seemed friendly, though he didn’t smile. “If you need anything, I will get it for you. I’m Willy Standalone.” Then he pointed to a handsome young man sitting across from him. “And that’s my boy, Little John.” The boy was in a daze, holding an iPod in one hand and an earplug in each ear. He appeared to be about eighteen and clean-cut. Like his father, he was muscular, but not nearly as big.
“Okay, thanks.”
Pointing to a coffee machine against the wall, he said, “Do you want some coffee? It’s free.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Want a magazine?”
“No, thank you,” she said as the front door opened and Luke stepped in and scanned the room for her. They made eye contact and he started walking her way.
Willy saw him approaching and stood, pointing to his chair. “Take my chair.”
Luke seemed in awe by the man’s size and stepped back. “No thanks, please, keep your seat.”
Unsmiling, Willy pointed. “Sit.”
Luke sat.
A minute later, a nurse stepped into the waiting room and called out some names; an elderly couple across the room and the man in the suit beside Bonnie got up and followed the nurse back through the open door. Willy stepped over and plopped down next to Bonnie.
“Little John’s going to college on a football scholarship,” Willy said. “He has to get him a physical.”
Bonnie, distracted from filling out the form, looked at the boy and smiled. “That’s great. He looks very strong.”
“He’s the quarterback.”
“I bet he’s good.” She smiled and looked over at Little John who appeared to be in his own world listening to his iPod.
Luke nudged Bonnie and whispered, “Let’s move over there.” He pointed at the empty chairs where the elderly couple had been sitting. The chairs were off in a corner, where they’d be out of the way. She nodded and reached down for her purse.
As they started walking away, Willy spoke, loud enough for the entire room to hear, “What’s the matter, don’t like sitting next to Indians?”
Startled, Luke said warily, “No, it’s just a little crowded in here. I just wanted to get out of the way. That’s all.”
Luke and Bonnie hesitantly moved over to the corner and sat down. For the next five minutes, every time she looked at Willy, he was staring at Luke, his massive arms across his chest. A few minutes later the nurse returned and called Willy and Little John. When they went back, Luke and Bonnie finally relaxed.
Half an hour passed, and Luke became fidgety. Bonnie noticed and reached into the outside pocket of her purse and pulled a folded piece of chartreuse paper and handed it to him. “We still need to get the stuff on this list. Why don’t you go get it? I don’t know how much longer it’s going to be before I see the doctor.”
He looked at the list, handed it back to her and said, “The grocery store’s a ways from here so I’ll just go to the drugstore we saw on Main. You keep the list. I can remember aspirin, Kleenex, and sunscreen. They aren’t going to have lettuce, tomatoes, bread, or mayo. We’ll stop at the grocery store on the way out of town.”
“Just hang on to the list.”
“I’ll lose it,” he said.
She rolled her eyes.
He carefully tore the paper in half and held the top half out to her. “You take this part and I’ll get the rest.”
She didn’t take it, just stared at him, and said, “Luke...”
With a smirk on his face, he bent over and stuffed the top half of the paper into the outside pocket of her purse, and then put the other half into his pocket. “How’s that?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Always have to have it your way, don’t you?”
Smiling back, he said, “It’s usually the best way, isn’t it?”
With a slight tilt of her head, she grinned and said, “Of course not.”
He leaned over, kissed her, and stood to leave.
“Keep your cell phone turned on and I’ll call you when I’m finished.”
Luke pulled his phone out and flipped it open. “I forgot to charge it last night and it’s almost dead.”
“Mine is too. Let’s not forget to charge them tonight.”
“I won’t.”
When Luke stepped outside he considered taking the car, but the weather was sunny with the temperature in the mid-seventies. Since the drugstore was only a couple of blocks away, he decided to walk.
It only took a few minutes to get there and when he stepped inside, a nostalgic feeling swept over him. He hadn’t seen a store like this in thirty years. On one side was a grill where teenagers sat on metal stools with fountain drinks in short glasses. In the back was the pharmacy where two gray-haired ladies stood laughing and talking to the druggist behind the counter. It reminded him of the way drugstores used to be before the national chains started putting identical stores on opposing corners across America. Maybe that trend hadn’t yet hit Canada, he thought.
A few minutes later he was on his way back to the clinic when he saw a shop on the other side of the street called The Sportsman’s Outfitter. In the windows he saw several posters with people fly-fishing in rivers and streams. After his disastrous attempt at fly fishing, he thought he’d check and see how much it would cost to go with a guide.
It was quiet inside, except for Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville” coming from a small speaker on top of a filing cabinet. Posters, photographs, and maps covered the walls around the store and in the front of the store were several long tables filled with brochures and photo albums.
Luke could faintly hear a woman’s voice coming through an open door on the back wall. The voice got louder and a woman stepped through the door.
“Those days are available. How many will there be?”
She wore khaki shorts, hiking boots, and a purple polo shirt. She stepped over to a desk and opened an appointment book and as she bent forward to write, her long black hair fell forward, blocking her face.
“Did you say four? Is everyone over eighteen? Has everyone been fly fishing before?” she said, glancing at Luke and making eye contact.
“Yes, sir. All I’ll need to hold the reservation is a credit card number.”
She held up one finger and mouthed the words, “I’ll be with you in a second.”
Luke smiled and nodded, then shifted his position to see her more easily. She was about Bonnie’s height, looked to be in her mid-thirties, but definitely heavier because she filled out her polo shirt much more than Bonnie. When she quit writing and looked back at him, he realized he was staring at her and looked back at the brochure and started reading about fly fishing.
For the next few minutes she answered the caller’s questions, glancing at Luke every half-minute or so with an apologetic smile.
> Luke walked around the store looking at posters and maps, glancing at her occasionally. She was a very attractive woman. After a few minutes she put the caller on hold and turned to Luke, “I’m sorry, but this is going to take longer than I thought. Some folks from Arizona are booking a fishing trip and they have a jillion questions. Can you wait a few more minutes?”
Luke looked at his watch. “Maybe I should come back later. I just wanted to see what kind of fly-fishing trips you have.”
“Don’t go, I’ll be done in a few minutes,” she said, moving towards him. “I know all the best places and you won’t find anyone around here that can catch more trout than I can.”
Luke was surprised. “Really? Are you a guide?”
“I am!” She spoke with a playful arrogance. “If you go fishing with me you won’t be disappointed. We’ll have a great time and catch a lot of fish, too. I promise.”
“That’s what I’m looking for...” he glanced at his watch again, “but I’d better be going.”
“Okay then. I’m Lauren,” she said and reached out to shake his hand. “I’m the owner.”
He accepted her firm grip. “I’m Luke. I’ll try to catch you a little later.”
She released his hand and said, “Where are you from, Luke?”
“Texas.”
“I pegged you as a Texan as soon as you opened your mouth.”
“Well, I guess I do talk a little different from y’all.”
In a mock Texas accent she said, “Y’all shore do talk different than we do up here.” Then she giggled. “But I like it.”
Luke felt his cheeks redden. “I guess I’d better quit talking and let you get back to your phone call.”
She wanted a commitment. “Now, you are going to come back later, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll try.”
“Don’t call me ma’am, okay.” She was firm, but smiling. “Just call me Lauren. And what do you mean you’ll try? You said you’d come back, right?”
Now embarrassed, he got a little flustered. “I’m sorry. I won’t, but I will.”
Puzzled, she said, “You won’t, but you will? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”
“I guess that doesn’t make much sense.” Luke said shyly. “What I mean is I won’t call you ma’am. But I will come back.”
“Okay, that’s better,” she chuckled. “I was getting confused.”
Grinning sheepishly, Luke said, “Yep, me too... but I’ll come back later.”
“Good.” She leaned forward, poked him in the chest, and with an old West accent, said, “Now don’t make me come lookin’ for ya.”
He grinned and said, “Okay,” then turned and walked out the front door. As he started down the sidewalk he looked back through the window at her. She gave him a little wave, and then tilted her head, letting her hair fall away before putting the phone back to her ear.
Luke was lost in thought as he walked back to the clinic. Ordinarily he was pretty quick and witty, but Lauren had totally destroyed his concentration. She seemed to be flirting with him, which he enjoyed. At least he thought she was flirting. It had been a long time since anything like that had happened.
Luke was already inside the clinic when he realized he forgot to put the bag with his purchases in the car. He looked around and noticed the waiting room was now almost empty. Since he didn’t see Bonnie, he assumed she was back with the doctor. He sat back in the corner where they had sat earlier and pulled out the paperback he bought at the drug store.
After reading for less than five minutes, he looked up and saw that he was the only one left in the waiting room. He checked his watch. It was noon. Assuming they closed for lunch, he went to the receptionist to check on Bonnie.
“Do you have any idea how much longer it will be before my wife is finished?”
“What is her name?”
“Bonnie Wakefield.”
After flipping a page in her book she looked back at Luke. “She’s already checked out.”
“You’re kidding,” Luke said in disbelief.
She shook her head and gave him an I’m sorry, kind of shrug.
He thanked her and headed for the door.
Bonnie was probably waiting for him at the car, he thought. He felt like an idiot for not even noticing the car when he came back. His mind had been elsewhere, thinking about Lauren and how she was flirting with him.
As soon as he stepped out the front door he saw their green rental car sitting across the street. All of the cars that filled the parking spaces earlier were now gone. He hustled across the street and though he wasn’t expecting to see Bonnie inside, he felt compelled to look.
“Of course she’s not in there, you idiot. You’ve got the only key,” he murmured.
He scanned the sidewalks in both directions, and on both sides of the street. They were deserted as far as he could see. He stood on the curb and made a complete three-sixty degree turn.
Where in the hell did she go?
Chapter 4
Luke pulled out his cell phone and pressed Bonnie’s speed dial number. It rang once and went directly to her voice mail.
“Hey, Babe, I’m at the car. Waiting. Call me.”
For a few minutes he waited, unsure what to do. It wasn’t like Bonnie to wander off, but, knowing her, she probably had a good reason. He scratched his chin trying to remember their last conversation. It was likely he wasn’t thinking clearly since he was suffering from a world class hangover, but he couldn’t remember her mentioning anything she needed to do. Only that she wanted him to keep the shopping list.
He’d said she needed to get the rest of it from the grocery store. Maybe that’s where she went. But, the one they saw coming into town was at least half a mile from where he stood, maybe more. She wouldn’t go that far without leaving a note, would she?
He sat in the driver’s seat and looked at his watch. Five past twelve. It would probably be best if I just wait. She should be back in a few minutes.
He rolled down the window and pulled out the brochures from the Sportsman’s Outfitter and started to leaf through them. After about five minutes he got restless.
Luke tried to think of where else she could have gone. Maybe she went to look for him. Or, even better, she probably went to the drug store to fill a prescription. And he didn’t see her because he was at Lauren’s store. He hoped she didn’t see him in there because she’d accuse him of flirting. Maybe I’d better find a guide who’s a guy.
He waited, watched the sidewalks and checked his watch every minute or two.
Ten minutes later his patience was gone. He couldn’t believe she’d wander off like this without telling him first. If he did something like this, she’d be all over him for being inconsiderate. And he’d get the silent treatment at least an hour, for sure.
Now it was twelve-twenty. It had been thirty minutes since he had returned to the clinic. It was time to go find her. The town was small. Downtown couldn’t be more than four blocks long. He’d leave her a note.
He tore a piece of paper out of a notebook and wrote: Bonnie – Looking for you. Stay here. I’ll be back at 12:30, Luke. He stuck it under the windshield wiper, locked the doors, and started to walk.
On Main Street, there were about a dozen people on the sidewalks, but none with red hair. Luke headed toward the drugstore, glancing inside every storefront he passed.
Inside the drugstore he checked every aisle as he hurried to the pharmacy in the back. There a bald, rotund man in a white lab coat glanced up and asked if he could help.
“I’m looking for my wife and thought she might have dropped off a prescription to be filled? Could you check to see if you have anything for Bonnie Wakefield.”
“That name doesn’t sound familiar, but let me look.” The pharmacist turned to a counter behind him where little white paper bags were arranged in a series of rows. “When did she bring it?”
“I don’t know that she did. We got separated and I thought maybe she c
ame over here to fill a prescription. It would have been in the last hour.”
“Nothing here, but let me check those I haven’t filled yet.” He turned and looked through a short stack of paper. “Nope, nothing for Wakefield,” he said. “Go ask Irene if she’s seen her.” He pointed to the front of the store where a little white-haired lady stood behind a cash register. “She sees everyone who comes and goes. Has for the last thirty-three years.”
“No, I’ve not seen anyone like that today," Irene said, shaking her head. “And I would know, because I get here every day at eight-thirty, except on Sunday. I don’t think we should even be open on Sunday but when Mr. Wilcox died, Arthur started opening on Sunday and I told him I wasn’t going to work on Sunday because I—”
“Thank you ma’am,” Luke said, cutting her off and backing away.
Luke started back to the clinic, this time on the opposite side of the street. He slowed for a closer look inside the gift shop and ladies’ boutique, but no sign of Bonnie.
At Second Street he turned and saw the rental car. As he got closer he saw the note on the windshield, exactly where he left it. Bonnie had not been back.
He checked his watch. Seven minutes left. He had been told the grocery store was only six blocks away.
He walked briskly in that direction, catching sight of a redhead across the street with her back to him. But she had on a bright green blouse with yellow slacks. Even though Bonnie had green eyes, she never wore green.
But that made him think: what was she wearing? He couldn’t remember.
When he got to the grocery store, it was 12:28. The store was so small that it didn’t take but a few minutes to check every aisle. In the back corner of the store he saw the restrooms. A lady wearing a blue apron was walking out. He stopped her.
“I’m looking for my wife. Is there anyone else in there?”
She shook her head.
As he started back to the car he pulled out his cell phone, but the screen was dark. He pressed a button and nothing happened. The battery was dead.
When he got back to the car it was twelve thirty-five, and nothing had changed. His note was still exactly where he left it.