any shape, any woman standing there; only Gladys’ fence and her ivy that crawls up it in picturesque curlicues. I am sorrowed but not surprised to know she is gone, but I will not let the sorrow defeat me or cause me to sink to the porch and cry there in the rain, although God knows I want to. Instead I cross the street, not at a dead run now, but more cautiously choosing my footing, my eyes always several yards ahead of my feet. The rain is still coming down in sheets, soaking me instantly; my nightgown is drenched and cold and the varied coins that I have sewn into the hem over the years clank against my ankles. They feel heavy and like they could drag me down. There is enough rain collected in the street that I splash mightily with every step I take. I wrap my arms around myself for warmth and step exactly into the spot where Rose had been only moments before. I stay there, soaking in the light from the lamp, trying to feel her; her essence, her thoughts, her plans, anything. Anything that I can go on from here. It seems obvious now that she doesn’t want to be found, and yet isn’t she making herself known? Have I really stumbled upon her twice or three times now without her knowledge? That seems too incredible to be true, and yet why would she continue to hide from me?
This is maddening. I am soaked. It is so dark. Why did I have to move into such a poorly lit community? This is the only street light for nearly two blocks. Whichever shadows Rose has disappeared into are in each and every direction around me. She could be anywhere. She could be four feet from me, watching, or farther away, running away.
I call her name but my voice comes back to me, void and fruitless and in vain. I walk, calling, until my throat hurts and the shivering takes over. I walk, calling, until I can call no more.
Then I go inside my house where I pick up Israel’s jacket off the back of the couch. I put it on, wrapping it nearly twice around my frame. I slip my arms into the sleeve and savor the warmth for only a minute. Then, my thoughts repeating an endless refrain of please, please, please, I dip my hands into the pockets. My fingers wrap around the contents and I pull out the car keys.
********************
I debate the wisdom or folly of stopping to wake up Luke and ask for his company. For that matter, I could have brought Israel or even Prue or Dad (surely he has a right to this as much as I do). But I feel as though my sanity is reaching a breaking point and it’s as if I don’t want there to be an audience when I finally come to my own conclusion. And a conclusion is what I am looking for, what I’m driving towards. This shroud of mystery surrounding my sister is going to disappear like the mist tonight; I will make it so. My resolve doesn’t keep me warm and although my arms and chest feel better in Israel’s lightweight coat, my legs and especially my feet are chilled through. My bare feet work the pedals of the Blue Beast, my frozen toes clutching at the pedals. It would only have taken another moment to run upstairs and get my shoes, but of course, I was in no state of mind to be pragmatic. My hair, half of which is still braided from Emme’s handiwork and the rest taken out after she left, drips down my neck. I find the dial for the heater and crank it up as I turn out of town, the way we had gone when Luke took me to the empty house where I felt Rose’s presence as surely as I felt his next to me.
I find the way with surprisingly little trouble. It’s as though I’m following the trail of breadcrumbs left behind from a little girl who wanted to be discovered. The road is bumpy but straight, the moon playing peek-a-boo with me through the pines the way it did before. The familiarity of that comforts me somehow. Other than that, the darkness is oppressive. If I thought my street was dark, it was a well lit crystal chandelier compared to this heavy blanket of black. It had taken me a