Jennifer L. Jordan Kristin Ashe Mystery 1 A Safe Place to Sleep

Odnośniki

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

sixth one.
When did my own mother become my enemy, so much so that I
was afraid to tell her anything?
And where was my father when I was growing up? The
And where was my father when I was growing up? The
memories of him were almost completely blocked. It was as if he
didn't exist. Why?
These questions, the questions to which there were no
acceptable answers, depressed me until eventually I fell asleep.
I woke up long before morning came, sweating and shaking from
a terrifying dream.
Ann and I are walking through the woods at night. In line,
Ann is in front, then me. As we go to cross a bridge, I step
aside. I won't cross it. I am going to walk parallel to it.
Ann goes on ahead, then disappears, as if into a hole. I
scream and scream for her. I am terrified. I keep trying to
wake up. In my dream, I remind myself I am in my
apartment and safe. I'm calm, then the terror again. I
scream louder and louder but never make a sound.
As I remembered pieces of the dream, thoughts flashed through
my mind:
Camping trips. We'd taken several family camping trips. My
mother never went along because she hated camping. Who slept
in the tent with Dad? Who slept in the car? My incomplete
thoughts terrified me more than the dream itself.
I started crying from a place I could not touch.
Total amnesia. It could no longer protect me. What would?
Finally, when I could no longer stand the noise inside my head, I
put on my stereo headphones, turned up the music as loud as I
could, and read People magazine.
For hours, I kept the external noise going to override the internal
For hours, I kept the external noise going to override the internal
noise. I was exhausted, yet couldn't chance sleep. Just before
dawn, I returned to my bed, lit a candle on the nightstand, and
prayed for peace.
Mercifully, the morning finally came, but not soon enough, and
not nearly easily enough.
****
To make a bad night worse, I opened my blinds to a blanket of
fresh snow.
On a clear day, from my high-rise windows, I could see two
hundred miles of Colorado's majestic Rocky Mountains from
Colorado Springs' Pike's Peak to Boulder's Flatirons. That gray
day, however, was an exception. I could barely see the highway,
which was only a mile away. Everywhere I looked, the white film
covered the cars and streets and buildings below me.
Undaunted, I dressed warmly and left to pick up the kids, hoping
their youthful energy would erase some of the terror of the night
before.
I wasn't disappointed. As soon as I got to their house, Zeb and
Jessica piled on me, first hugging me, then wrestling with me. By
committee, we decided to go to Funworld Sports Center, saving
the zoo for a drier, warmer day.
In the car, Jessica loudly told me she missed me. That it had
been eighteen-hundred days since she'd last seen me. I smiled
and said I missed her, too. Zeb, in his infinite six-year-old
wisdom corrected his four-year-old sister and told her it had
only been three hundred days. Surprisingly, he wasn't far off in
his calculations.
his calculations.
Jessica, unimpressed by Zeb's correction, squirmed in the back
seat and occupied her time by waving at cars. No one in the cars
waved back, but that didn't affect her enthusiasm.
In Funworld's parking lot, as I was lifting Jessica out of the back
seat, she quietly said to me, "I prayed you would come."
"And I did," was all I could say as I set her on the ground and
quickly turned so she wouldn't see my tears. Holding hands, we
ran through the parking lot, trying without success to avoid
puddles of slush.
Once inside, we played and played. We swam. We drove
bumper cars. We bounced around in a room full of balls. We ate
corn dogs and pizza and nachos and french fries. We drank
lemonade and Dr. Pepper and milkshakes.
Over lunch, Jessica told me she had two married cats. She knew
they were married because one of the cats just had kittens. I
marveled at her right-wing, moral logic. Zeb told me his dog
Moe had eaten one of his goldfish. After the fish had jumped out
of the bowl and hit the floor, he explained with zeal. We laughed
and told more stories.
That evening, after I'd taken them back to their home, I cried
and cried. Partly, I cried for how much I missed them.
Mostly, I cried for how much I missed myself.
****
The next day, which was Sunday, Michelle called to invite me to
brunch with her and Destiny. They were going to try a quaint
restaurant in Park Hill. I declined. I wanted to see them, but not
together, not that day. Maybe not until I was done with Destiny's
together, not that day. Maybe not until I was done with Destiny's
case, I told her. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

zanotowane.pl

doc.pisz.pl

pdf.pisz.pl

angamoss.xlx.pl