Small Town Dreaming

by IRENE JONES

  ©2021 Irene Jones

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-09838-453-1

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-09838-454-8

  Table of Contents

  Part 1

  Chapter 1: The Shadow that Watched

  Chapter 2: Anxiety Is Underrated

  Chapter 3: Small Town Living

  Chapter 4: Small Town, Small Problems

  Part 2

  Chapter 5: “Music and the Dance Floor”

  Chapter 6: Let the Music Play On

  Chapter 7: Back Down Memory Lane

  Chapter 8: Butterflies Make the Soul Happy

  Chapter 9: Working from Home Paysthe Bills

  Chapter 10: Time away Didn’t Change You

  Chapter 11: Focused

  Chapter 12: The Neighbor

  Chapter 13: Keeping My Focus

  Chapter 14: An Interesting Week

  Chapter 15: Time Waits for No One

  Chapter 16: Facing my Fears to Love

  Chapter 17: Embracing True LoveWithout Judgment

  Chapter 18: Worried about What They Would Say

  Chapter 19: Back Down Memory Lane

  Chapter 20: Is It Meant to Be?

  Part 1

  Chapter 1:

  The Shadow that Watched

  It was becoming a new way of living and seeing things for me. I live in a small town outside of Seattle, Washington, called Shadow Tree, with 1239 people. I own a small newspaper company called Good Things Do Happen, a three-employee company. I learned growing up that good indeed does exist in this world. I have invested in what inspires me, to make people believe in goodness. I have a little Shih tzu named Humble, because he is always so nice to people when they see him. I can’t remember the last time I took a walk down to the stream that flows through the town. Well, today was one of those days.

  The trees are so tall and green along the trail. Once I get closer to the flowing water, I something caught my eye, but then it wasn’t there anymore. I continued to walk until I reached the stream. It’s like out of a book, so peaceful and calming. The town is mainly quiet, but down here it is like another place and time. I was working on a new story for my paper about a blessing one of our senior residents had a month or so back, so I used the quiet by the stream to think about the story some more.

  I started on my way back up the trail, and I again saw something that looked like a shadow, but not quite visible enough to explain. I’m not a drunk, so I don’t see things. When things seem strange in this town, it usually means that one of the seniors has decided to rollerblade or try to do the newest dance craze.

  While I was editing the story, I got a call from someone asking if I had heard the news. “No, I have not. I was out on a walk down by the stream.”

  “Are you sitting down?” asked the caller.

  Now mind you, I was working in my office, and sitting is 80 percent of my job. I asked what was going on, and the caller said a child had gone missing from the Seattle area. Then the caller added, “It’s your niece.”

  Now I was standing up. “What? How did this happen?”

  It seems to be a custody issue. Mind you, I haven’t talked to or seen my brother and his family in years. It’s not because we don’t get along or anything like that; it’s that he married a woman who abuses him mentally and emotionally. Unfortunately these things happen, but I assumed all was well.

  As I was making a call to my brother, one of the town’s residents, Mrs. Cowens, came in to chat, which is part of the usual routine. Mrs. Cowens used to be an elementary teacher in Los Angeles, California. She retired about five years ago and has been doing volunteer work at the elementary school here in Shadow Tree, Washington. I call her Mrs. C.

  “Mrs. C, I must make an important phone call, so give me a few minutes.”

  Mrs. C sat down and started snooping around through some old newspapers on my desk. Expecting my brother to answer the phone, wouldn’t you know my sister-in-law answered as though not a thing was wrong?

  “Hello, yes may I help you?” she asked, not knowing it was me.

  I said, “Yes, is my brother Keith in?”

  She hesitated, then said, “Oh, Cloe, I guess you’ve heard. I’m so upset. I can’t sleep or eat, and I keep getting these phone calls—”

  I interrupted her in the middle of her sentence and asked again, “Is Keith available?”

  “No, he left with the police. He will be back shortly. I will let him know you called.”

  Knowing her, he will never know I phoned, so I need to take a city trip. The streets of Seattle always have a clean and innocent look to them. No complaints about it from me, because I’ve seen the worst. On my drive to my brother’s, I noticed they had built a new strip mall close by where he lives, which was needed, since the population in the area is growing.

  When I got to my brother’s street, there were news vans everywhere, including on the neighbor’s lawn, and a camera guy was in a tree. What was going on with my missing niece?

  As I looked for a place to park, I saw a familiar face in the crowd, one that I wish I hadn’t. It seems this devastating issue has brought the closest neighbors out, the ones who only come out when it’s someone else’s tragedy. Keith saw me as I finally found a spot to park. He walked up to me with tears in his eyes, then grabbed and hugged me tightly, as though he was about to lose me too.

  “Keith,” I said, “What’s going on? How did this happen?” See, Keith and I may not speak to or see each other for years on end, but it’s like we just saw or talked to each other yesterday. His wife was trying to get her fifteen minutes of fame.

  Keith walked me inside the house to talk privately, since that looked like the only place we could talk quietly. Inside his home was the cleanest and most organized home I have seen in a while. He brought me a glass of ice water, then we sat down and he began to explain. It had been more than twenty-four hours since my niece had disappeared. My brother had called all of her school friends and checked with the neighbors, but no friends or neighbors had seen or heard from her.

  It wasn’t like her not to call or come home after school. My niece is not an ordinary teenager. She is in a class all by herself. She has the brain of Einstein and the intuition of any physic. Calling her missing seemed wrong. I would say it was more like she had chosen to leave. My brother and I know how independent she is and how she could talk a millionaire into given her some of his riches. We narrowed down what she had been doing for the last few weeks. Keith said she had been exploring different areas of Seattle and its surroundings lately, like finding open fields and tall trees with rivers surrounding them. Meech, my nickname for her, which is short for Michelle, has always had a wild imagination.

  We looked around her room for something out of the ordinary as Keith and I tried to wrap our heads around what could have caused this to happen. It was getting late and the news vans still lingered, waiting on a story. What seemed odd was a lady with fiery red hair, standing in the distance. When I looked back to ask my brother if he knew her, she was gone. That was the third time today that my attention caught something strange, or at least something that looked strange to me, anyway.

  Keith’s wife finally made her way back to the house, with a story t
o tell. She was a skinny, well-built woman with short curly hair who stood about five foot six and was always smiling, as though she was the happiest person in the world. I know she was not as happy as she shows herself to be. During the brief conversation, I decided to take a drive to clear my mind and try to figure out where Michelle could be.

  Had someone taken her, or had she gone on an adventure and not returned yet. Lord, watch over her, keep her safe from harm. As I came upon a traffic light, I noticed a crowd hanging around a little bar or club. I was hesitant to go over that way, so I circled around and drove a short way out of the city. Just as I came to a stop sign, I saw the woman with the red hair again. I couldn’t see her face, though, because it was only the side view. As I started driving toward where she was standing, I glanced away to check the traffic. When I turned back, she was gone.

  What the hell is going on? I’ve heard stories of the mind playing tricks on you, but this is crazy. I went ahead and pulled up in front of a store across from where I saw her.

  As I was getting out of the car, a gentleman yelled, “You can’t park there.”

  “It says no standing from 7 a.m. until 5 p.m. It’s 7:30 p.m. now.”

  He approached and said, “I know the sign says that, but the store owner is coming back with some supplies for his store, and that’s the spot he will need to use when he returns.”

  The guy went on to say that he was just about to get a couple of the cones to place t there when I drove up. I went ahead and moved my car. I had decided to check into a hotel in the downtown Seattle area for the night, so I let my brother know where I was staying.

  The morning sun crept in the window and, as always, the sun woke me right up. While waiting on a call from my brother, I decided to order room service, which I usually don’t do. But since I was in the city for a couple of days, I figured why not.

  The hotel phone rang as I heard a slight tap at the door. I yelled, “Just a minute,” and picked up the phone simultaneously.

  “Cleo,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Yes,” I replied, confused, as no one knew I was at this hotel but my brother, and he wouldn’t dare tell his wife. I could hear sounds in the background—it sounded like birds chirping and ocean water—and then the caller hung up.

  I went to open the door and it was, of course, the wait staff bringing my breakfast. As I closed the door, I saw a woman with red hair walk past my door.

  “Sir,” I asked the room service waiter, “Does that lady work here?”

  He chuckled and said, “Ma’am, I didn’t see anyone.”

  Okay, now I was starting to think I was having some mental issues. The funny part is that being in this hotel makes me feel like I’ve been here before, between the trees and the streets going quiet after about 8 p.m. Well, I guess nothing in life is very surprising these days.

  Chapter 2:

  Anxiety Is Underrated

  A storm was coming in, and it looked like it was going to be a major one. We were all told to evacuate the town and go into Seattle. People boarded up their shops and gathered the personal and necessary things to take with them. Growing up in a big city I had been used to storms, or at least I thought I was, until I moved to a small town. Storms here seem to have far worse effects than in a big city. Some people did not want to leave their homes, knowing they could be gone when they returned. But the storm passed relatively quickly, and it was mostly calm. Siding was torn off the sides of some of the homes, but there was minimal damage.

  Clean up began and we worked to help each other out with cutting up downed trees and brush and putting out patio furniture and other things we had tucked away in garages and sheds before the storm. After some time had passed, my brother called. He said I needed to come down to Seattle right away. Thinking the worst, I made the trip again. To my surprise, he met me as I pulled up, looking as though he had seen a ghost. As I was getting out of the car, my phone rang. My brother grabbed it from me as I went to answer it. This was very unlike him, and I found it upsetting.

  “Come with me,” he said. We walked a few blocks down, with him mumbling to himself. Finally, he blurted out, “They found a body.”

  My mind froze up, but my mouth opened in a silent gasp as I stopped walking. “Oh my God! No! No! No! How? Where? When?” I felt like my soul had left my body. When I was finally able to think, I grabbed my brother by the arm, looked at him, and said, “Who is dead?”

  He stared at me, as though he was looking straight through me. “They found a young girl’s body down by the ocean, where the kids hang out after school.”

  “How do you know who it is?” I whispered.

  “I have a sick feeling it’s my baby girl,” he replied.

  The day seemed to drag by as we waited for information. When we did finally hear, we were very relieved that it wasn’t my niece. At the same time we felt sad for the family that had to claim their child’s body.

  I stayed at the same hotel I stayed at the last time I came down to Seattle, since I didn’t want to stay at my brother and his wife’s house. I had so much on my mind from the last twenty-four hours, I had trouble falling asleep. I needed to get back to my quiet yet exciting life.

  Once returning home, I noticed stillness in the air. Miss West walked past me on the street with no hello at all, which was unusual for her; she was the chatterbox of the town. My mail had piled up over the past couple of days. I needed to get the paper put out, and concentrating on work would keep me from worrying so much about my niece. For the life of me, I never understood what kept so many from attending the town hall meetings we have once a month, or I should say, stopped attending.

  Early morning walks help me think and contemplate how life can change. I has always taken the trail, but that day I decided to find a busier road since the last time I was on the trail I saw something or someone that wasn’t there. The fall color was breathtaking, and the smell of the ocean with a slight stench of fish permeated my senses. The boats docked nearby, returning from one of the famous fishing areas off the coast. This town could use a few more paved roads for cycling and running, I thought, though I didn’t run and rarely cycled.wMy newspaper had been acknowledged in The New York Times for widespread circulation in a small town. I mostly write about positive achievements and let the local news station deal with the drama of our town. My brother calls more often since my niece made it back home. She went on a trip with friends down to Los Angles for the day and swore she talked with her mom twice about it more than a week before she went. My sister-in-law has a problem with letting her husband know things concerning their child because he works all the time and is not active in their marriage enough she says.

  Chapter 3:

  Small Town Living

  Marriage has never been something I truly wanted to do. It could be because many friends and family either are not happy or did it only because it’s the norm. Learning to love isn’t easy when you are emotionally and mentally afraid of rejection. My choice for moving this far was easier than I thought, especially when I saw the landscape and the low home prices out here. I left behind a life of heartache and grief. But I didn’t come out this way too fast, I dotted my I’s and crossed my t’s before making such a big move.

  I returned to the office to find a personal letter taped to the door, no postage, just a written note with my name on the outside. I wondered what complaint one of the residents had now. Is my ink not dark enough, or should I add more grocery ads/ I get a letter like that at least once or twice a month. I went inside and did a little straightening up around the office before I read the note. When I flipped the letter open, the writing looked very familiar, maybe because it was from one of the residents I got a lot of requests from. The words in the note were strange, like a freaking riddle of some kind.

  I tossed it aside and got on with my editorial for the week’s edition. My phone rang, and when I answered it, the operator asking
if I would accept a collect call from an inmate at a prison.

  My response was immediate, “No, I will not.”

  I could hear a female’s voice say “Wait!” but I hung up the phone.

  Who in the hell is calling my office from prison? It has to be a wrong number! I went on with my work.

  Later that afternoon, a woman came in to subscribe to the paper. I had never seen her before. Maybe she’s new in town. She introduced herself as Ms Lovett, and gave me her address. I explained that her address was at the hotel outside of town and that we don’t usually deliver to a hotel unless we get a representative from the establishment to come in and sign up.

  She said she had just bought some property on the other side of the trail, and she was having contractors come out this week. She planned to move to town, so she was interested in getting to know her new community.

  I responded, “Oh, okay. Well, welcome to Shadow Tree.”

  She smiled, and I think this chick winked at me. That was weird, so I decided I had to find out more information about her. She requested her newspaper be delivered to a hotel about thirty minutes away, and that city had a more significant paper distribution in the city, which was twice the size of Shadow Tree.

  The day had gone by quickly. I saw Ms. Cowens pass by with a wave and a smile, on her way to her sewing class. Usually, she would come in and chat a bit beforehand, but since gossip started that she was trying to get free newspapers, she had stopped coming in. There are a lot of older people in this town, and while they mostly keep to themselves, there is always gossip among a few of them.

  When I was driving home, I noticed a crowd gathered in front of the little pub in town. As I got closer, I realized they were standing in line. The pub was hosting a special appearance by some singers who used to live here. They had returned to give a free performance. Whoever the singers were, they must be pretty cool.

  When I passed by, I saw Ms. Lovett in line. I didn’t want to look nosy, so I took my butt home. I was greeted at the door by Humble, barking and jumping up and down. I know some days he’s lonely here when I’m out. I used to take him in to the office with me, but the newspaper building’s landlord said no pets allowed.