Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 940(@200wpm)___ 752(@250wpm)___ 627(@300wpm)
I want it to happen.
It can happen.
After playing with Acorn, I put a little makeup on and fix my hair. I make the bed and spritz it with some lavender bed spray I bought that’s supposed to be calming.
I picture Blue in my bed tonight.
I envision us watching Titanic together, with Archie and Acorn at our feet.
I believe it can happen.
Acorn barks, and I run to the door, ready to throw my arms around him, but it’s not Blue, it’s just the mailman. I wait for him to move to the adjoining house and then I retrieve my mail, which is nothing but junk that I toss into the trash.
An odd sensation comes over me as I stand in my kitchen, like a cold breeze that wasn’t there at all. The clock on the wall suddenly seems to be ticking exceptionally loud, forcing me to look at it.
My heart jumps when I realize three hours have passed since Blue left. Breakfast time has long passed, and even though I’m up for eating doughnuts and bagels any time of day, I know it wouldn’t take him this long to walk to the café on the main road and then back here. Even walking slowly, it’s not that far. I look out the front window, thinking maybe he’ll just materialize since I’m looking, but there’s no one on the tree-lined street at all.
Anxiety festers up, twisting my insides, but I try to squash it as I get my sneakers and jacket. People stop and talk to Blue all the time because they recognize him as the guy who plays guitar all over town. He probably ran into someone he knows at the café and is sitting outside playing his guitar and has lost track of time. It’s happened before.
I drive to the café with Acorn sitting shotgun, and run inside.
“Have you seen a guy with long hair and a guitar in here, in the last few hours?” I ask the young guy behind the counter.
He shakes his head. “I’ve been here since six a.m., haven’t seen anyone like that.”
I thank him and go back to my car with a racing heart and mind, wondering where he could possibly be.
“Where’s Blue?” I ask Acorn as we drive through town, and he perks his ears up. Blue doesn’t refer to himself as Daddy as most pet owners do. Maybe he’s too cool for that. Or maybe he can’t deal with the underlying responsibility of the title. We drive to the park, and I take Acorn with me to walk up and down the paths, past my bench, and our picnic table, and down to the old bridge. The only things greeting us are memories.
Fear and frustration send tears to my eyes, and I brush them away as I drive over to the shed. Maybe he got a bad headache and went there to rest, knowing I would go there to look for him. I should have looked there first, instead of wasting time rambling through the park. Acorn’s tail starts to wag as I pull in front of the old house, and I assume he thinks he’s home or he knows Blue is here.
“Come on, pup,” I say, letting him out of the car. He immediately jumps out and trots to the backyard with me not far behind. I fully expect to find Blue sleeping in the shed, but when I pull the rusty latch and open the door, he’s not there.
And neither is anything else.
Acorn stands beside me, not wagging his tail, blinking up at me with a blank expression on his face that I’m sure looks just like my own.
The silence is thick as mud. I can almost feel the emptiness, take hold of it in my hand and squeeze it through my fingers. My breathing becomes unnatural and forced in my lungs, and a deep pain throbs in my chest and down into my gut. Acorn nudges my hand with his wet nose and I pat his head absently as I stare around in disbelief at the empty space.
Maybe he got robbed. Maybe someone came here and took everything. Or maybe the cops came, arrested him, and cleaned the place out.
Yes. That’s exactly what happened. One of the neighbors must have caught on and reported us and now he’s probably sitting in a jail cell waiting for me to come bail him ou—
As I spin to leave, I notice the white piece of notepaper stuck to the back of the door with an old nail. With a trembling hand I tear it off the door.
Ladybug,
It was time for me to keep walking.
Take care of Acorn for me.
If you can, try to leave a space for me in your heart.
I’m sorry.
I love you like no tomorrow, little slayer. Don’t ever forget that.
~ Blue