purples and gold. The sails stretched in a southeast wind. Eternity made a whoosh…whoosh…whoosh sound cutting through water, the setting sun reflecting the blush of a twilight sky. Sherri held the ropes near the bowsprit, her hair dancing in the wind. Suddenly, on both sides of the boat, two porpoises began leaping out of the water in unison.
Sherri laughed. “Look, Sean! Not only do they have a smile on their faces, it’s in their eyes. What a fabulous way they see the world around them.”
Six months later, she was in a hospital bed. Through her fight with ovarian cancer, the chemo treatments, an arsenal of pills, the constant blood work, her eyes never lost their light. The last week before Sherri’s death, she asked me to take her home. She wanted to be in our bedroom, surrounded by her books, little Max curled up next to her.
The night Sherri died I held her hand and wiped the perspiration from her face. She said, “Remember the dolphins, Sean?”
“I remember,” I said, trying to be strong when my insides were tearing apart.
“Remember their smiles…let it remind you how to smile. Somewhere…you’ve lost that…I miss it in you…promise me two things, Sean. Promise me you’ll move away from the dark side—the side you enter to try and make a difference. You need to reclaim yourself. And that’s where you will make the difference in the lives of others. And promise me you’ll watch over Max. She loves you almost as much as I do.” Her hand trembled as she stroked Max, who had snuggled next to her.
I leaned over and softly kissed Sherri’s lips. They were cool. She smiled one last time as I looked into her eyes and saw the light fade.
#
I PLACED HER PICTURE on the porch table, sipped the whiskey and felt it burn in my empty stomach. I called Max over to my chair and lifted her up. She licked my chin and lay down in my lap. I scratched her behind the ears and stared into my dead wife’s face.
I finished the drink and realized the rain had stopped. A slice of moon perched far beyond the live oaks. I sat there in the dark until after midnight watching fireflies play hide-and-seek along the banks of the river, their tiny lights reflecting in the dark current like meteor showers in the night sky.
THIRTEEN
The next morning I drove with Max to near the spot I had parked when I found the girl. Was her name Angela like Reverend. Jane said? She was now a body under a sheet in the coroner’s cold storage filing cabinet tucked away like another crime statistic.
Max followed me to the spot where I’d found her. I knelt down and began to search the area. Max sniffed blades of grass. She seemed to sense that something was wrong here. Deer tracks, wide and deep. The deer had been running. Had the deer been frightened by the person who had killed the girl?
“Let’s see where these came from, Max.” She ran ahead, barking and wagging her tail. Max and I were now backtracking, following a trail in reverse hoping it might lead to the start of how the girl got to the river.
We were within seventy-five feet of the road when Max stopped. This time the fur rose along her spine, a whine coming from her throat. She found a single shoe, a woman’s shoe. It had a high heel and a closed toe. I took a pen from my shirt pocket and lifted the shoe from the ground. It was the shade of cherries. No brand name.
I held the shoe with a handkerchief and carefully poured some of the contents from the toe area into one of the Ziploc bags I’d brought. The soil trickled out of the shoe like coal dust. Holding it to my nose, I could detect the faint odor of phosphates, possibly manmade fertilizers.
I lowered the shoe back where Max had found it and looked around for a second shoe before
Sherri laughed. “Look, Sean! Not only do they have a smile on their faces, it’s in their eyes. What a fabulous way they see the world around them.”
Six months later, she was in a hospital bed. Through her fight with ovarian cancer, the chemo treatments, an arsenal of pills, the constant blood work, her eyes never lost their light. The last week before Sherri’s death, she asked me to take her home. She wanted to be in our bedroom, surrounded by her books, little Max curled up next to her.
The night Sherri died I held her hand and wiped the perspiration from her face. She said, “Remember the dolphins, Sean?”
“I remember,” I said, trying to be strong when my insides were tearing apart.
“Remember their smiles…let it remind you how to smile. Somewhere…you’ve lost that…I miss it in you…promise me two things, Sean. Promise me you’ll move away from the dark side—the side you enter to try and make a difference. You need to reclaim yourself. And that’s where you will make the difference in the lives of others. And promise me you’ll watch over Max. She loves you almost as much as I do.” Her hand trembled as she stroked Max, who had snuggled next to her.
I leaned over and softly kissed Sherri’s lips. They were cool. She smiled one last time as I looked into her eyes and saw the light fade.
#
I PLACED HER PICTURE on the porch table, sipped the whiskey and felt it burn in my empty stomach. I called Max over to my chair and lifted her up. She licked my chin and lay down in my lap. I scratched her behind the ears and stared into my dead wife’s face.
I finished the drink and realized the rain had stopped. A slice of moon perched far beyond the live oaks. I sat there in the dark until after midnight watching fireflies play hide-and-seek along the banks of the river, their tiny lights reflecting in the dark current like meteor showers in the night sky.
THIRTEEN
The next morning I drove with Max to near the spot I had parked when I found the girl. Was her name Angela like Reverend. Jane said? She was now a body under a sheet in the coroner’s cold storage filing cabinet tucked away like another crime statistic.
Max followed me to the spot where I’d found her. I knelt down and began to search the area. Max sniffed blades of grass. She seemed to sense that something was wrong here. Deer tracks, wide and deep. The deer had been running. Had the deer been frightened by the person who had killed the girl?
“Let’s see where these came from, Max.” She ran ahead, barking and wagging her tail. Max and I were now backtracking, following a trail in reverse hoping it might lead to the start of how the girl got to the river.
We were within seventy-five feet of the road when Max stopped. This time the fur rose along her spine, a whine coming from her throat. She found a single shoe, a woman’s shoe. It had a high heel and a closed toe. I took a pen from my shirt pocket and lifted the shoe from the ground. It was the shade of cherries. No brand name.
I held the shoe with a handkerchief and carefully poured some of the contents from the toe area into one of the Ziploc bags I’d brought. The soil trickled out of the shoe like coal dust. Holding it to my nose, I could detect the faint odor of phosphates, possibly manmade fertilizers.
I lowered the shoe back where Max had found it and looked around for a second shoe before
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