The separation guilt returned to me like a waterfall crashing down on my conscience.

I could feel the heels of my shoes burning my feet with each step. I could hear myself panting in rhythm as I fell instinctively into the habit of pacing my breathing. Houses seemed to whiz by at a snail’s pace as I climbed a steep hill. Each footfall made a grinding gravely sound like molars gnashing together.

The smells of autumn used to excite me. But as I huffed and puffed, sucking in the dander of the season, the smell of pumpkin and the trees and the leaves, the damp pungent odor of the blended convections of October, it made me nauseous. To this day those smells make me want to vomit.

And what of Catherine? The image of her cold and bluing corpse was etched vividly and perpetually in my mind. But she was safe in heaven if there was such a place. Or was she an unrepentant sinner like me? No, Catherine was a saint. She had to have been to have put up with me.

My thighs began to cramp and my knees to throb but I held my pace. My guilt fused with my fear and pushed me forward despite my staggering fatigue. Sarah needed me; and as long as I was moving forward I felt a little safer from my irrational demons. I pushed myself harder despite the taste of blood trickling into my mouth from my lungs as they were shredded by the steady pulse of cold air which I forced into them. I needed to get to Sarah. She needed me. Near the end of this road lay my house; and in my house, my daughter. Or would she be there? I suspended my jog and I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. I placed my hand on the stitch that was developing in my side and I tried to catch my breath. The road was almost pitch-black. The distant sky over the lake behind me retained a soft glow but it did little to emanate light and nothing to comfort me. I spied the surrounding woods for danger. I looked down at my phone and I dialed my house phone but found that there was no signal. I was too near the lake; too far from the cell-towers to get reception.

I bowed at my waist and touched my toes, or came as close to them as I could, trying to stretch my stiffened calf and thigh muscles and then I resumed my jog.

I tried to listen for the cars that approached me from behind but one car with only its fog lights lit surprised me and sent my pulse racing. The driver swerved to miss me at the last instant, then blared his horn and screeched his brakes and tires. I jumped and nearly dove into a culvert, staggering and stumbling to keep my balance thinking that I had just been attacked by a monster from the shadows. My heart raced even faster, pounding as if trying to evict itself from my chest. I stopped and tried to regain my composure but my eyes darted in every direction and the shapes of the shadows formed images of horrid creatures. If the driver shouted an obscenity at me I never heard a word.

I momentarily wrapped my hands around my body and I rubbed my arms in a vein effort to warm myself. I laughed out loud at how ridiculous I was for being afraid of a passing car; afraid of the dark.

And then I remembered: Sarah!

I jogged again, my legs weak and unsteady. I was still scared to death and I stumbled and trotted up and down several more hills until my driveway surprised me by arriving at my feet. My house lay down a long gravel drive sided by trees. It was a sprawling white ranch with black shutters and an overgrown yard. The windows were dark. Nobody home, I supposed. As I approached my front door a motion light illuminated my front walkway and I could see a yellow ribbon taped across the front porch warning that trespass was forbidden; that my house was a crime scene.

2

I steadied the steering wheel of my car and wrestled with my pocket to free my cell phone. I fished it free and dialed Catherine’s mother again.

“Hello.”

“Rita, it’s me, Mathew.”

“Oohh, Mathew, what have you done?” Her thick southern accent elongated her syllables.

“What have I done?” The fucking police! They had me tried and convicted. They must have already put ideas into her head. “I haven’t done anything.”

“The police said they think you killed her. My baby! How could you?” She was sobbing through her words.

“Rita, it’s me; Mathew. You can’t possibly believe them. I would never hurt Catherine. She was my life.”

“That’s not what I was told! Who is this Amber?” More sobs.

I was guilty of this indiscretion. This I could explain though. This was no motive for murder if there even had been a murder. I needed to speak to her in person. I knew that I could convince her of my innocence if she would just give me a chance to explain.

“I’ll explain Amber in a little while. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I accelerated the car to fifty miles an hour though the speed-limit was only thirty-five.

“No!” She screamed into the phone. “Don’t you dare come to this house!” Her sobs were angry now.

“But Rita…, you don’t understand…”

“I understand that you cheated on my daughter!” She took a deep breath and I could hear her wipe her nose. “I understand that you killed my daughter to be with this….this….this

Amber!”

“No, you have it all wrong!” How could I convince her over the phone? I needed to see her. I needed to persuade her of my innocence. I needed to get Sarah before Rita poisoned her mind against me.

“Don’t you dare come to this house!” “I’m coming to get Sarah.” I paused to try to temper my tone of voice. “If you’ll give me five minutes you’ll know that I didn’t kill Catherine. I don’t think she was murdered at all.”

“Don’t you dare come here! You’re not taking this little girl anywhere.” Her voice was indignant.

“She’s my daughter. I’m coming to get her whether you think I’m innocent or not. She is my daughter and she needs me.”

“She doesn’t need the man who took her mother from her.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Have her ready. This is not a request!” I hung up the phone.

* * *

I could see Sarah run to the window as my car pulled into the driveway, her reddened round face pressed against the glass, her little nose smooshed like a pig’s snout. I got out of my car and made my way to the front door with no regard of my phobia. My mind was too focused on my task to think of my fear. Sarah’s eyes were red with tears, her cheeks pink from wiping them and she had dark grey smears around her eyes making her look like a pathetic baby raccoon.

Rita pulled her away from the window while Sarah kicked, screamed and cried, tears streaming down her face. That broke my heart.

I saw hatred in Rita’s eyes as she glared out at me. That made me angry.

I pounded on the door and leaned into the door-bell. I waited. Then I beat on the door some more. Rage filled my chest over the frustration of my situation. Sarah was trapped like a rabbit in a snare and I could do nothing to free her.

I couldn’t break in. The drama would only upset Sarah all the more and likely result in my incarceration. I didn’t want to call the police for help. I’d had enough of them for a lifetime. But I had a right to be with my daughter. I had a right to be there for her, and she for me, to share our grief. Rita was legally in the wrong, but what could I do? I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, leave without Sarah. I decided to wait there for as long as it took. I sat on the stoop and folded my arms. Rita would have to leave eventually, if for no other reason to go to her daughter’s funeral! She wouldn’t dare call the police. The police would be forced to give Sarah to me, her father.

I stood up and I leaned against the porch pillar. I was determined and impatient. I stood and I pressed my hands to the glass of the front picture window and I stared in at Sarah until she disappeared from view as Catherine’s mother dragged her out of the room. My heart was aching for Sarah. I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could do. I prayed to my God to help me to get Sarah back. I was not a devout believer in God and I had no faith that he would help me as he had never seemed to aid me before no matter how hard I had prayed but I must admit that the hairs on my arms stood up on end when after a few minutes of praying I heard the rear screen door slam shut as Rita’s voice cried out “Sarah, you get back here!”