Docket No. 76 by Arita M. L. Bohannan

Author:Arita M. L. Bohannan [Bohannan, Arita M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781491855423
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2014-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

It was simply a matter of bad timing.

Sandy is standing on the sidewalk. Across the street, then across the median, on the opposite street, she sees him. He stands on the corner of the ice cream shop, leaning against the building and taking long drags of his cigarette.

She just stands there, watching him. She can feel that something bad is going to happen. The streetcar pulls up and screeches to a stop right in front of her, blocking her view of him. Lee Lawson jumps out from the door in the far rear. He is smiling. He turns and picks up the little girl in her bright pink dress and lifts her high before playfully putting her on the ground. It’s Dori.

The two hold hands and begin walking behind the streetcar, disappearing on the other side.

Oh no. Sandy’s heart rate speeds up. Without thinking, she begins crossing the street to reach the median. She makes it across and onto the grass as the streetcar begins to move forward.

She waits for it to pass, the movement causing the warm summer wind to blow across her face. It passes, and her eyes dart to the corner where he had stood waiting. He’s gone.

Her eyes float across the front of the building, searching. Then Dori bounces out of the ice cream shop, laughing and licking a cone. She and Lee are holding hands. In the distance, she sees smoke. Dori and Lee turn the corner toward the smoke.

Sandy panics. She walks across the median, gaining speed with each step. She sees him step out behind Dori and Lee as they pass him. He turns and looks at Sandy, smiling.

Sandy starts running, darting into the street. A car’s brakes squeal as she is nearly hit. She turns her head to look at the car as it is coming toward her. The horn blows loudly as she braces for the blow.

Sandy sits upright in her bed. She looks around frantically, trying to get her bearings. Her chest moves up and down, her nightgown wet from sweat. She looks at the clock; it’s just after three in the morning.

Another nightmare. She is averaging three a week.

She takes a long drink of water from the cup on her nightstand.

I have to stop this, she scolds herself.

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