Page 92 of Stone

As I said, life went on, but sadly, I was about to discover that life included death, and that went on in small-town America, too.

Late September in Hambleton was beautiful. It cooled down at night, but the days were still warm enough to walk around without a coat. The leaves turned beautiful shades of brown, red, and the very same gold as John’s eyes. The air was warm but had a clean crispness to it, and the nights began to draw in earlier than before.

I’d taken Bessie to work that Saturday. I was up late late poring over John’s letters that I read daily. I’d slept in and ran out of the house early for work, because although the offices were closed on weekends, the mayor had some filing for me to do.

There was just me in the office, so when an ambulance screamed past, sirens blaring, I jumped up and ran to the window to see what was going on.

It turned down Main Street, and something dark slid through my chest.

And I knew.

The ache started in my throat and soon filled my chest, my belly, my arms, my legs, and my fingers and toes. Withtremoring hands, I turned, as if on autopilot, and grabbed my bag, which hung from the back of my chair. I slid the strap onto my shoulder and walked slowly onto the street, locking the door behind me.

The four-minute walk seemed like an hour. My knees had turned to Jell-O, and my stomach had turned to lead. Something, a feeling, told me to turn back. It told me I didn’t want to know. It said if I turned that corner, everything would change.

It was right.

The first thing I saw, of course, was the ambulance with its flashing blue lights bathing the white bricks of my dad’s hardware store in an eerie glow. People milled around outside with their necks craned as they looked inside the doors.

Questions raced through my mind.

What’s happening?

Why are they at the store?

What’s going on?

And lastly…Where’s my dad?

The last question stuck in my mind, and the sight before me suddenly penetrated my brain. A feeling of impending doom washed through me, seizing my lungs, and with a quiet sob, I began to run.

My breath sawed in and out, my arms pumping by my sides as I raced down Main Street. A voice called to me, seemingly in the distance, but it hardly registered; my entire focus was getting to the store and seeing my dad standing behind the counter wearing his grey apron, giving me a disapproving look because I’d made a fool out of myself for racing down the street like a mad woman.

At last, I approached the building, and I slowed because suddenly it hit me that maybe I didn’t want to see it after all. Perhaps I could turn around and pretend it was a typicalSaturday. I’d do my filing, go home, and read John’s letters in my room while Mom and Dad watched TV downstairs, but something inside spurred me on.

The crowd of ghouls gathered outside the store talked and whispered amongst themselves, not even noticing me, seeing as they were so damned determined to get their gossip for the day. I slipped through the bodies and stopped in the doorway, taking everything in.

A paramedic was on his knees, cradling Dad’s head while he gave him mouth-to-mouth. The other—also on his knees—was bent over Daddy’s chest, one hand on top of the other, pumping his sternum while he counted.

A sob filled the air, and I realized it was mine. My heart hammered against my ribs painfully because my dad looked straight at me, except his stare was blank and his eyes unseeing.

There was nothing there.

A thousand tiny knives slashed at my insides, and my lungs almost exploded with stabs of pain because I could see something as clear as crystal.

The paramedics could carry on trying to breathe life into my dad all day long, but it wouldn’t do any good.

All feeling left my legs, and I stumbled into a shelf, sending paint brushes scattering across the floor. Then, arms came around my shoulder, and a voice muttering, “Fuck!” sounded in my ear as I was hauled against a warm, broad chest. “Don’t look, Elise,” a deep voice ordered. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

A confused mess of emotions filled my stomach, licking up my chest and into my heart: despair, pain, disbelief, and so many more that I struggled to identify them. My wide-eyed stare caught on the gaggle of town gossips, craning their necks to get a glimpse of my daddy in his most vulnerable state.

Burning, white-hot heat surged through me. “Get out!” I shrieked, pulling away from the man holding me and stompingtoward the door. Leaning toward them, I pointed down the street. “Get out! Get out.Get out!”

Strong arms banded around me, and I was pulled into a warm chest that rumbled, “It’s okay, Elise. I’ve got you.”

A sharp stab of pain shot through my heart, my knees gave way, and I sobbed. I would’ve sunk to the floor if I wasn’t being held up.

Another voice rang through my ears. “Robert. What’s going on?”

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