10/30/12

Lost Her Forever
By John Laneri


My day began as usual – up at sunrise, a quick breakfast then out the door to tend the cattle. The difficult part started in the afternoon near the barn when I was talking to Jake Walters.

“You headed into town tonight?” Jake asked.

“I’m planning to spend the evening with Molly Blanchard,” I replied, as I watched him heft the last bale of hay from my pickup and tote it to the barn.

“I did a job for her a year or so ago,” he remarked, on returning to the truck. “She's a good woman.”

Jake was a big man with muscles that bulged under his tee shirt. I didn't particularly like him, but he helped me from time to time when I needed a strong back. From what I knew, he was prone to brawling and drunkenness, having spent many a Saturday night in the town jail.

I watched him turn away and head behind the barn.

While waiting, I drifted to a shady spot under a tree to look over my spread. The place was small, only a few acres, but big enough to support a hundred head of beef cattle and keep me busy full time.

Soon, my thoughts drifted to Molly Sue and her late husband, Bobby.

I first met Bobby in grade school. Back then, he and I were a couple of rowdy kids that experienced our share of adventure. After college and a few years serving in the military, we joined up as business partners to try our hand at breeding cattle. Our enterprise was small, but we had fun, and to our surprise, we even made a few dollars.

His loss though, the most notorious unsolved murder in our community, ended our friendship. One day, Bobby and I were at the town diner discussing baseball and getting ready to expand the business. The next day, he was just another missing person statistic.

To everyone who knew him, it was, as if the world had simply taken him into its grasp, hidden him away and refused to reveal his whereabouts.

Three months later and much to everyone's surprise, the authorities found him buried in the woods with a crushed skull and a decomposed body – an appalling event that sent emotions spiraling even lower, mine included.

At first, after Bobby’s death, I tried to help Molly Sue through the specifics of running a ranch. I even did chores around her place just to keep things in order. It was obvious that she missed Bobby.

Then one evening while I was washing up, she came outside and handed me a towel. “Would you like to stay for dinner.”

Surprised by her offer, I asked, “Do you think it's okay... with everything that's happened?”

She was an attractive woman with dark hair, bright eyes and an easy manner. Her presence always conveyed a feeling of warmth.

“You look doubtful,” she said softly. “I'm having fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”

Laughing, I replied, “Two of my favorites, but....”

“I can't continue to live in the past. Bobby died over a year ago.” She touched my arm and smiled. “I'm only asking you to stay for dinner. Consider it a thank you for your support.”

Over the ensuing months, her dinner offers became more frequent, and soon our conversations grew more intimate. Then one evening things just happened.

Maybe, it was the moon and the cool evening air that played on our feelings. Nonetheless, our attraction was immediate. It was as if something had suddenly awakened our hearts and set our emotions surging. Afterward, we were together as often as possible and even considering marriage.

Remembering that it was quitting time, I looked about and spotted Jake returning to the truck.

“Another long day,” I said, as I settled onto the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“They get longer every year,” he replied, looking away.

We drove in silence for a few minutes, bouncing over pot holes in the road, but as my curiosity began to get the best of me, I asked, “I didn't know you and Molly Blanchard were friends.”

Jake grinned. “She asked me to help her with a moving job a year or so ago, about the time her husband died. Since then, we've kept in touch... a few odd jobs here and there.”

Later that evening, I headed to Molly Sues' house. She lived several miles away on the far side of town. Since I was early, I took the leisurely route, bypassing the main area of our community and swinging east along a county road that followed the west fork of Hollering Creek. With drought conditions, I liked to keep up with water levels in the area.

Ten minutes later, I turned onto a gravel road and followed a series of rolling hills through farm country. Finally, I eased to a stop in front of her house. In the distance, a full August moon was just beginning to show over the treetops.

At first, the lack of outdoor lights surprised me. I noticed her truck parked to the side, so I figured she was somewhere about the property with her dog, Bubbles, and had simply forgotten to switch on the porch light.

I went to the door and knocked. Failing to get a response, I stepped inside.

Startled, I faced a room in disarray with broken lamps and overturned furniture tossed chaotically from one side of the place to the other. Near her fireplace, I saw Bubbles lying in a pool of blood.

I hurried to her and touched the side of her head, feeling that distinct crunch of bone on bone – my impression, a depressed skull fracture, probably the result of a kick from a boot.

Quickly, I searched the house, going from room to room, hoping to find Molly Sue, my panic growing. After a thorough search, I dashed outside to survey the perimeter of her yard then I returned to her family room and reached for the phone.

“Hello, this is Travis Cartwright. I need to report a missing person.”

Gladys the dispatcher at our local sheriff’s office came on the line. “Evening Travis. What’s got you so riled up?”

I'd known Gladys for most of my life, so I relaxed. “Listen up… Something strange has happened at Molly Sue’s house.”

Hurriedly, I went on to explain my findings.

“That sounds serious,” Gladys replied. “I’ll get word to the Deputy and have him call you back. Stay by the phone.”

I again searched the house, trying to decide who would have something to gain by abducting Molly Sue. At the time, no one came to mind, so I headed to the kitchen.

I stopped near a counter and picked up a note pad. Most of the pages contained gibberish, but on the last page, I saw the name, ‘Jake’. It startled me and sent a shiver along my spine. Why would Molly Sue write his name and circle it in bold pencil?

Suddenly the phone rang.

“Travis, this is Gladys again. I can’t raise the Deputy. He’s working a call at the diner on Second Street. For the moment, he’s not receiving.”

“Then, put me in touch with the Sheriff.”

“I’m sorry Sweetie, but he’s out of town for the weekend.”

“Then keep trying to raise the Deputy. Tell him what’s happened.”

“I’m switching to another frequency as we talk. Give me a second.”

“Let me ask you something?

“You can ask me anything... well, almost anything.”

“Do you know Jake Walters?”

She hesitated. “Not personally, but I’ve heard things.”

“Like what?”

She exhaled a breath. “Let me just say – he can be a woman’s worst nightmare.”

I returned the phone to its cradle, knowing that my next step was to follow up on Jake. From what I knew, anything was possible, including the abduction of Molly Sue for whatever reason that might suit him. He was a dangerous man – likely, more dangerous than most of people cared to admit.

Ignoring speed limits, I hurried to Jake’s place, a simple trailer parked near Hollering Creek. As I drew near, I switched out my headlights and pulled onto a side road several hundred yards away. His truck was in front, and the house lights were on, so I knew he was somewhere close.

Quietly, I eased out of the truck and made my way across a field, approaching from the rear. By then, I was beginning to feel foolish, knowing that I was taking a big risk.

I stopped in the shadows behind an island of grass and looked about. The area appeared quiet, so I hurried to the nearest window and glanced in – my anxiety growing.

Nothing…

I moved to the next window. Still no signs of life, but I could visualize the glow of a television. I eased further along the back of his place to the next window and saw Molly Sue curled up on a bed partially clothed.

She appeared to be crying.

Nearby, I sensed movement and looked around, my senses on alert.

I took another cautious step, my eyes watching the shadows. Then suddenly without warning, a thundering fist knocked me to the ground. I came to my feet, wobbling from side to side, and saw Jake standing in the light looking every bit his menacing self. I sucked a breath trying to clear my head, and then he charged me. I sidestepped his lunge and watched him crash head long into the side of the trailer.

Slowly he came to his feet, shaking his head. “You’re a dead man,” he said. “I’ll teach you to mind your own business.”

He took a step toward me.

Backing away, I glanced around and spotted a length of metal pipe on the ground near his truck. I edged toward it keeping an eye on his hands. He charged me again. I tried another sidestep but stumbled and fell backwards, landing heavily on the ground.

Suddenly the trailer door opened, and Molly Sue came out, still partially dressed. “That’s enough Jake!”

She looked frazzled and scared yet her voice conveyed authority.

“Get your sweet ass back in the house,” he said, turning to her. “I’m not through with you tonight.”

“You can have me again, like you always do, but let the man be. He’s caused you no harm. I love him... please don't hurt him.”

He hesitated then without warning, he drew his boot back and laid a pointed toe against the side of my chest – a move that sent the crack of bone radiating across my side.

I must have passed out. The only thing I could remember was the sound of scuffling taking place near me. When I was finally able to lift my head, I heard screams coming from somewhere far off.

Slowly, I came to my feet, stumbling through a full three-sixty. In the distance, I glimpsed two people against the night sky moving over a rise in the direction of the creek.

I started toward them, staggering at first, and then racing in an all-out sprint, feeling stabs of pain cut across my chest.

Another scream….

I heard voices in the distance and the splashing of water. Frantic, I hurried on, my legs pushing me towards the top of the ridge. Once there, I spotted Molly Sue standing in water up to her knees. Beside her, and much to my surprise, I spotted Jake laying motionless floating face down.

I rushed to her.

When I reached the creek bank, she started toward me, moving like a zombie, her eyes staring straight ahead. In her hand, I noticed the metal pipe. “He'll never take me again.”

“Drop the weapon,”I said, going to her.”Try to relax.”

She let it fall into the water.

Turning away, I waded in and pulled Jake to shore. He was obviously dead, his head and face battered repeatedly.

Once on dry ground, she came to me and settled her head against my chest.

“He’s dead. I killed him… I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” I said, as my eyes drifted to the silent body near us. “Do you feel like walking back to the truck? We need to notify the Sheriff’s office.”

I could smell the sweetness in her hair, drawing me to her, wanting to give her comfort.

“I didn’t mean to kill him!” she sobbed.

I held her for sometime, feeling her heave with each breath. “Jake was a bad man,” I said softly. “Whatever he did to you is not important” I brushed the hair from her face, wanting to hold her forever.

“Not Jake,” she said, shivering in the night air. She sobbed again, her eyes turning away. “Bobby… I loved him. It just happened. We were arguing.”

“You killed Bobby?”

She looked at me blankly. Then, I felt her draw away and start up the hill.

I watched her until she had disappeared from view, knowing deep in my heart that I had lost her forever.


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John is a native born Texan living near Houston. His writing focuses on short stories and flash. Publications to his credit can be found on the internet and in several print edition periodicals.