by Peggy Webb
He made himself settle into his work until evening. Sarah would be back by evening. Of that he was certain.
He waited until after eight to drive back to her house. When he saw the dark windows, he felt fear. What could have happened to her?
He rang the doorbell knowing no one was inside. He pounded on the door, knowing no one would come. He peered through the windows, knowing he wouldn't see a thing.
"She must be visiting overnight." The sound of his voice reassured him somehow. He even managed to work up a halfway decent whistle as he descended her porch steps. She would be back the next day. He had to believe that.
o0o
After a restless night Jake dressed and left for work two hours before his normal time. Sarah's house had the wilted unloved look of deserted property. Jake's chest got tight. He parked his car and went through her gate.
"She's probably not back from her visit yet." he told himself, even as instinct told him she hadn't gone on a visit. Something was terribly wrong. Sarah could be lying in her kitchen, dead from a fall from the kitchen stool, and Jenny could be walking through the woods with her dignified lurching gait, not knowing what had happened, knowing only that her mother needed help.
Jake jimmied the front door open and slipped inside. "Sarah," he called. His voice echoed in the empty house. "Sarah," he said, walking softly as if the sound of his footsteps might set off a horrible avalanche that would bury them all.
He wandered from room to room, calling their names. "Sarah . . . Jenny . . . Sarah. Are you here?"
In her bedroom he stood before the dresser. Her lipstick was there, and her hairbrush. He picked up the brush. A strand of her hair was tangled in the bristles. Carefully he worked the strand loose, then rubbed it between his fingers. It felt silky and alive. Need swelled in him, and love so great, he thought he would burst. And all over a single strand of Sarah's golden hair.
He took out his handkerchief and folded the hair inside. Then he put that part of her in the shirt pocket over his heart.
Next he walked to her closet. Her green dress hung there. So did the peach. He pressed his face against her abandoned dresses and inhaled the scent of her.
"Where are you, Sarah?" he whispered into the soft folds.
If he lost her, he would die. Fighting for control, he took inventory of her closet. It seemed to him that a few clothes were missing—the pink shirt she had worn the day of the picnic, the skirt and blouse she had worn the day he'd found her in the Dollhouse, dancing.
He held on to the sides of her closet with his head bowed; then he went into Jenny's room. Her Pooh Bear and the set of books he had given her were missing. So was her box of paints.
He picked up a pink satin hair bow from her small dressing table. The memory of her laughter, high and bright in the summer evening, echoed through his mind. Gently he set the ribbon back in place and went into the den where the telephone was.
He called the hospital first. No one had heard of Sarah or Jenny Love. Next he called the police station.
"Missing persons," he said.
Fortunately for him, the man on duty was an old friend, Robert Ketchum. He listened to Jake's story without interruption.
"Jake," he said, when the story was finished, "take my advice. Settle down, go to work, and she’ll show up in a day or so. She's probably just visiting friends."
"Probably so." After he hung up, Jake called the bus station. Had a blond-haired woman and a tiny special child bought two tickets to Birmingham? he wanted to know.
"Nope. Nobody by that description went to Birmingham."
"Russellville? Mobile? Anywhere in Alabama?"
"Nope."
"She's a beautiful woman. You couldn’t have missed her. And she had a child, a little blond girl with a smile like an angel's." Jake was getting desperate. "Did a woman such as that buy a bus ticket to anywhere?"
"Don't recall as she did. 'Course I don't stay at this winder twenny-four hours a day. You could ask Mike when he comes on shift."
"When would that be?"
"Two hours."
Jake called the small airport. He called the car rental agencies. He paced the floor, waiting to call Mike. He hadn't seen her either.
Sarah and her child had vanished off the face of the earth.
o0o
Jane Marks drove the car with careless ease, tapping her red fingernails on the wheel and humming. Sarah sat beside her, staring out the window. Jenny was on the backseat fast asleep, her puppy curled against her like a pretzel.
"Of course, it's none of my business," Jane said, taking the car north on the Natchez Trace Parkway, aiming it between the summer green trees and the red clay fields as if it were a missile set on a homing device. "But you never did tell me why you're running and where you want to run to."
"It doesn't matter why and it doesn't matter where. I just need a few days away from . . . to think."
"Well, naturally I'd take you anyhow, since you're the one who saved my marriage and my life as well." Jane raked her fingernails through the shock of black hair that always seemed to hang in her face. "Hell, if you hadn't gone through that drug rehab clinic with me, I would be somewhere in a plot of ground by now. And you taking care of Jenny, to boot." She reached for a cigarette and placed it, unlit, between her teeth. "I mean it, Sarah. Ill walk on water for you if I can, but I do think it might help you to talk."
Sarah shrugged her shoulders and kept her vigil at the car window. The trees blurred together, and she had the sensation of being caught in a tunnel with no way out.
"For one thing," Jane said, "you look like death eating crackers, and for another thing you let your phone ring and ring after I got to your house. And then last night at the motel you didn't eat a bite. Not one single solitary crumb."
Sarah reached for her friend's hand. "You deserve an explanation, Jane. And I promise I’ll tell you everything . . . someday. But right now I need to get away from Florence for a little while and get my life back in order. Somehow I've let it get off course."
"You know I’ll help you in any way. I’ll wash the dishes, mop the floors, pay the bills. Hell, I’ll even beat somebody up if you'll tell me who the culprit is."
"Just be my friend, Jane." Sarah squeezed her hand.
"You got it, kiddo."
o0o
The helicopter blades beat the hot air. Jake peered at the ribbon of highway below them, squinting his eyes against the glare.
"See anything yet?" Bert asked.
"Nothing."
"It's a wild-goose chase if you ask me, looking for a blue car that may or may not be headed north and that may or may not be carrying a woman and a small child."
"I know it's a slim chance, Bert, but it's all I have right now."
Bert adjusted his course, heading north from Florence. "I can just see you interrogating the neighbors. With that gloomy mug you probably scared that little old woman into saying she saw Sarah leave in a blue car."
"She was pretty certain."
"'Pretty certain.' Hell, when a woman says that, it means she has no more idea than a cat in a sack what's going on."
Jake squinted out the window, searching for a glimpse of blue on the network of roads.
"I see dust on that side road, Bert. Turn right."
Bert obediently turned the chopper. "We have a few more hours of daylight, and then we're heading in. Chances are Sarah will come back on her own." With his cigar clamped between his teeth, Bert turned to Jake. "She left her clothes behind, didn't she?"
"Yes. Most of them."
"There's no woman under the sun going to go off and leave her clothes. Mark my words, she'll be back. And you'll be sitting pretty, waiting for her."
"I can't wait."
Bert didn't bother to ask why. He just shook his head and kept the helicopter on course.
o0o
Jane turned the car off the Trace somewhere in Tennessee and headed east.
"Might as well change the scenery," she said.
<
br /> Sarah just grunted. Jane gave her a worried look, then turned her attention back to the road. In the back of the car, Jenny slept on.
Soybeans parched from lack of rain and cotton stunted by the drought spread out in vistas along both sides of the road. Occasionally a few cows gathered at a pasture fence to watch the blue car as it whizzed by. Sarah let her mind drift. She was exhausted with being sensible and too confused for decisions.
"Is that a helicopter I hear?" Jane tilted her outside mirror and tried to see the sky. "Damned if I don't hear one. Funny . . . out here in the middle of nowhere."
"They're probably looking for some lost child."
"Or maybe an escaped convict. Gives me the shivers."
They drove on for a while, accompanied by the sound of the helicopter.
"Sarah, look behind us and see if you see another car."
Sarah looked. "No. Nothing."
"That's funny. I would swear that thing is following us."
"Nonsense. Just drive, Jane."
They passed three farmhouses, a feed store, and a wayside fruit stand. Still, the helicopter hovered near.
"They're after us," Jane said. "I know it."
Sarah rolled down the car window, stuck her head out, and peered upward. The helicopter had pulled ahead of them and was hovering, so close she could see two men inside. One of them seemed to be staring directly at her, and she had the uncanny feeling it was Jake.
"Nonsense," she said aloud, pulling her head back inside.
"Nonsense, what?"
"Nothing." Sarah clenched her hands together in her lap. She was getting paranoid.
"Are you in trouble, Sarah? Is somebody following you?"
"No. I'm not in trouble ... at least, not the kind you mean. And no, no one is following me ... I hope. Keep driving, Jane."
o0o
"It's her," Jake said. "I know it's Sarah."
"Well, hot damn. A needle in a haystack, and we found it."
"Pull out, Bert, and land this damned thing. I've got to stop her."
Bert pulled ahead of the car and headed toward a pasture. "This is my kind of fun, Jake."
He set the chopper down, and Jake jumped out, ducking low under the blades. "Wait for me," he yelled back, his voice nearly lost in the noise.
The blue car was coming up fast. Jake had to intercept it. He sprinted across the pasture, his lungs burning with the effort. There was a fence between him and the road. He tore his pant leg getting across.
The car came around the bend just as he stepped onto the shoulder of the road. He could see Sarah, sitting in the front seat, looking pale but beautiful, her head held high, her chin jutting out with determination. Brave Sarah, taking on the world. Nothing had ever moved him as much as the sight of that delicate flowerlike face. His heart hammered so hard, he had to take huge gulps of air.
"Sarah!" he called, stepping into the road.
The blue car swerved around him, and for a desperate moment he thought he was losing her. Then he saw Sarah lean across the seat and grasp her companion's arm. Brakes squealed, and the car came to a stop in a cloud of dust.
Jake started forward, running. The car door opened and out stepped Sarah.
"Sarah!" he called, hardly daring to believe his luck.
She came toward him and they met in the middle of the gravel road. He reached for her, and she reached for him. Their hands touched, ever so softly, ever so briefly. Jake felt reborn.
"I thought I had lost you," he said, their hands hovering in the air like hummingbirds mating, barely touching.
"Oh, Jake." She drew her hand back.
Despair settled over Jake. She had run away from him. She didn't want to touch him. He fought against defeat.
"I have to talk to you, Sarah."
She fussed with her hair, causing a soft curl to come loose and curve around her cheek.
"It will do no good. My mind's made up."
Her eyes were very bright. He wondered if she had been crying.
"Please, Sarah. I can't let you go . . . not like this."
Sarah glanced back at the car. then up at him. Everything he hoped for, everything he dreamed of, was caught up in Sarah's blue eyes, shimmering and bright, waiting to burst forth, but holding back, holding back until Jake felt as if he might explode.
"Please, Sarah . . ."he whispered, loving her and wanting her and not knowing how to capture her without losing her. There were no guidebooks on love, no rules, no maps. Love was not a game. It was real, so real it made him ache.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally Sarah spoke.
"You deserve to know, but not in the middle of the road."
He took her elbow and guided her across the shoulder and onto a shaded turnaround. They stood together under an oak tree, her skirt brushing against his leg, his hand on her elbow, his fingers barely touching her blouse right under her bra line. Sarah closed her eyes a moment, dreaming; and then she straightened her shoulders and pulled out of his reach.
"If you came after me to ask me to marry you, my answer is still no."
"I've pushed you too hard. I realize that now. Just let me love you, Sarah. The rest can come later."
"No. It will never come. Not with me, Jake."
"Yes. Only with you." He couldn't stand not to be connected to her in some way. Very gently he pulled her into his arms and pressed her head against his shoulder. She sighed as if she had been waiting to settle her head over his heart. He caressed her hair. It felt silky and alive.
"I want romance, Sarah, and love and tenderness and kindness and laughter and joy. I want private jokes and cuddling by the fire and music that's special because I heard it with you. I want to protect you and cherish you and grow old with you."
Her heart accelerated. He could feel the increased rhythm against his chest. It gave him hope. He gentled her with his hands, allowing them to say all the things he didn't know how.
A light breeze stirred the oak leaves. Sarah lifted her head.
"I have Jenny." There was no tenderness in her voice, only a great and solemn dignity.
"I know you do. I want to have her too. I want to love her and help care for her."
She gazed up at him for the longest while, and he saw the fear moving in her blue eyes. He guessed the direction of her thoughts. A giant stone settled around his heart.
"It's not easy," she finally said.
"Nothing worth having is easy."
"You'll grow tired of the burden."
"She's not a burden, Sarah."
"Not to me. But eventually she would be to you."
"No. She's a joy. She will always be a joy to me, and very, very special."
"I can't divide my time, Jake. She needs me, and I won't let you settle for crumbs."
"Sarah . . . Sarah . . ."He cupped her face. "Don't you know now that with two, things work out easier? I can well afford a nanny, all the best teachers, all the very best care for Jenny."
"What about other children?"
Jake smiled, remembering Bonnie. "We will have lots of them, Sarah, beautiful little girls with your face and daredevil little boys with your bravery."
"Oh, Jake. Don't you see?"
She walked away from him and hugged her arms around her torso. She kept her back to him as she gazed back toward the car, back toward Jenny. When she turned around, her shoulders were straight and her face was set.
"You're thinking of sturdy children who will play baseball and run with the track team and graduate at the head of the class and get married in white. You're thinking of normal children, Jake."
His heart seemed to stop. "Sarah ... I know what you're thinking."
"No. No one can possibly know what I'm thinking, what it feels like to have failed, to be . . . flawed."
He caught her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "The only thing flawed is your thinking, Sarah. Just because Jenny is special doesn't mean that—"
"Yes," Sarah interrupted him. "She's
special, Jake, and I love her more than if she were the most normal child ever born." She clenched her hands into fists and pushed at his chest. "But I can't risk that again, not with anyone, and especially not with you."
"Then Jenny will be enough for us. If you don’t want to take that risk, I'm happy to settle for having only one child."
"You say that now, but what about two years from now? Four years? Six years?" She worked herself out of his embrace and stood facing him. "I saw your face when you talked about Bonnie. I saw your love for her, your pride in her . . . your own flesh and blood, Jake, child of your heart, child of your loins. I won't deny you that."
The cold winds of despair blew across Jake's soul. Sarah was implacable. He made one last desperate bid to persuade her.
"I'll take all the risks, all the responsibility. I almost threw away love because of my past, Sarah. Don't throw it away because of what might happen in the future."
She reached toward him, and he thought he had won her. Her hand hovered in the air, almost touching his cheek, so close he could feel the heat of her, smell the perfume on her skin. He held his breath, waiting, hoping, praying. Then she drew back.
"No, Jake. I'm sorry." She turned to leave.
"Sarah, don't go."
"I must."
"I love you. I will always love you."
"Please, Jake ..."
"Are you coming back?"
"In a few days."
"Permanently?"
"I don't know. I thought I could make a new life for Jenny and me in Florence. Now I don't know."
"I won't try to hold you . . . not now. But know this: When you come back. I’ll be in Florence waiting for you. When you're ready for me, I’ll be there, loving you."
"Good-bye, Jake."
"Until we meet again, Sarah."
He watched her go. Her back was straight and proud as she walked to the car. She never looked back. He stood under the oak tree until the blue car was only a speck in the distance, and then he went back to the helicopter.
"Well?" Bert said.
"She’ll be back, just like you said." And when she comes back, we'll work things out. There has to be a way.”