Sometimes when I talked to Allen it was like holding my breath. He seemed to know what buttons to push and how far to push them. I hadn't intended to visit his office but I was picking up Jeremy from my mother's house and figured I'd stop in to say hello. His office was on the same side of town. I hadn't brought up his inconvenient late night meetings for quite some time and generally considered it a lost cause. If I discovered he was cheating, I'd just deal with it. I couldn't stop him from doing anything. But something in me held on to the reigns and tried to steer all of this madness into a direction I could accept. Allen was in his office sitting at his desk calmly looking over papers when I arrived. Never mind the fact that his voice had wavered when I told him I wanted to bring Jeremy up to say 'hi'. He sat there almost pretending for a moment that we startled him. I looked at him, a crease slowly forming in my brown. The top button of his shirt was open and it looked like the buttons were off track. I didn't yell. I had Jeremy securely in my arms and his head lay comfortably on my shoulder. His tired eyes were opened and he only looked at his father as if he were an interesting stranger. Stranger, I thought almost saying it aloud. He really was a stranger. His face showed instant guilt and I only smiled and said, 'I thought I'd come up since we were in the area.'�
He was almost out of breath when he said, 'Yeah! That's great. I've been so busy up here I hardly realized the time.'� I considered him for a moment, my face poised in the tightest smile.
Just then Emily walked in. The busty brunette was cradling a thick notebook. Her usually perfectly molded bob was just the slightest bit unkempt. I turned and looked her over without a word, then turning back to my husband I said, 'I guess I'll not worry about dinner tonight and pick something up on the way home. See you later tonight.'�
I held on to Jeremy just a bit tighter though Allen never saw the stray tear that streamed down my cheek. Making it back to the car was difficult. Each step I took was a shaky one and I held my son as though someone were trying to snatch him away. He slept comfortably being wrapped in his mother's arms. My face was tight and I felt as if every muscle in it were trying to keep back tears. When I slid Jeremy into his car seat his head rolled to one side and he uttered a soft cry of 'Mommy'' before he trailed off to sleep.
I got into the car and strapped myself in. The seatbelt seemed just a tad bit too tight but I couldn't adjust it without opening the door again so I ignored it. As I pulled out of Morris & Sloan's parking lot I felt a little change happen in my mind, like a little door shutting somewhere in my heart. It was silly to even think of such things and I turned on the radio to give myself something to think about. A late night show was discussing 'Why the U.S. hadn't pulled out of Iraq.' I stopped there deciding that it was the most distracting thing I could listen to at the moment.
The streets at this time of night were nearly empty and I found the way back to my familiar neighborhood very quickly and with little trouble. As I stopped at a red light I adjusted my rear view mirror and saw a truck with a single driver sitting behind me. The light turned green and I turned left onto Pinewood Avenue. The truck quickly put on its' blinkers and followed. I crossed into the right lane and continued down Pinewood. The radio host was discussing President Bush's incompetence and his guest was nearly cursing him for it. I thought the host's name was Jordan Miles but I wasn't sure. The guest continued on a rant about the cost of the war being justified by the lives we were saving in Iraq. I hadn't bothered to form an opinion on the war since Allen's business often involved a lot of political opinion. It was better if I just agreed with what he thought. It was a silly idea and he didn't agree with it but if I let him argue his points I didn't have to bother defending a cause that hardly anyone could agree with. Allen probably wished I was spunkier like Emily, but I hardly call sleeping your way to a higher tax bracket a quality pursuit. Horny middle-aged married men might beg to differ.
I turned the radio off. It wasn't helping. Looking back I realized the truck had changed lanes and was now at a steady pace behind me. It was starting to make me nervous but I quickly changed lanes and slowed to make a turn and when the truck didn't follow I knew I was just being silly. I relaxed my shoulders and thumped myself on the head. I could be so stupid sometimes. I turned up Green and began following the quiet street.
I adjusted my rear-view mirror so I could take a quick peek at Jeremy. His head lay awkwardly against the side of his car seat and his mouth was propped open. I smiled. He was such a rambunctious boy. I don't know how his grandmother keeps up with him but some how she managed to tire him completely out.
Lights flashed across my mirror almost blinding me. I readjusted the mirror and realized to my dismay that it was the same vehicle. I was three minutes from home but if this person was truly following me I didn't want to lead them to my house. I found myself breathing heavily and I was starting to sweat. I didn't know what I should do but I had to think. Getting nervous was only making it harder to think. I glanced back at Jeremy. I don't know why I did at that moment but I guess I was worried he wouldn't be there. I increased my speed and passed by our beautiful green house with the newly manicured lawn. Passing the house by was like something out of a dream. It seemed to fade out of existence like it was never there from the beginning. I was scared. Suddenly a thought crossed my mind. What if I never saw my home again?
I growled at myself for having such a thought. The important thing was to stay calm. If I did that everything would be ok. If I stayed calm we would be fine. I made a quick turn left, almost too quick, heading back towards a main street. Jeremy sighed and for a moment snored slightly.
The truck behind me quickly turned to follow, it's wheels skidding on the street. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had no clue what was happening but surely this person must want to rob me or perhaps they had me confused with someone else. I made turn after turn and still found myself being followed. I decided to head towards an open store or public area but found this a difficult task. The streets were practically empty.
Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes and I blinked. I was going to lose control if I didn't calm myself down but I found it impossible and the more I tried the more overwhelmed I got until my arms were shaking and my hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I got ready to make a quick right turn and as soon as I did the truck came rushing forward hitting the right side of my car. The impact jolted me but after a moment I was trying to regain control of the car, which was now spinning in what seemed to be slow motion. Jeremy was crying. When he had started I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. As I tried to turn the steering wheel straight and brake the car finally hit the side of a tree. My head hit the window and moments later I lost consciousness.

When I awoke I looked around me. My eyes were hazy but everything slowly came into focus. People stood around me. One person was talking to me but for a moment I couldn't hear what he was saying. I noticed it was still nighttime. What had I been doing? I had a terrible headache and as I moved my hand towards my head I felt the tightness of my seatbelt and the horrible vision of the moments before I was knocked unconscious flooded through my mind. I turned in my seat and with horror I realized my son was gone. I turned quickly, starring through the man who leaned over me. I grabbed him pulling on his vest till he gasped for air. 'Where is my son?'� I screamed. I felt strong hands grab mine and pry them away from the man in front of me. Moments later I was unconscious again.

This time I awoke in a hospital bed and found that I was strapped down to it. I didn't know what to say or who to call. I screamed to the top of my lungs until my throat felt like it would explode. 'Where is my son?'� I yelled without end until finally someone came into the room. It was my husband and I noticed a large orderly in the doorway behind him. I turned on my husband almost attempting to jump towards him. 'Where is Jeremy?'� I asked him. I must have looked like a mad woman.
Allen came closer to me but looked very cautious. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand over mind. His eyes looked poised to tell me bad news. 'What happened Allen?'� I asked accusingly. His eyes looked downward at my hand and he began to stroke it.
'Honey,'� he began but I quickly cut him off.
'Don't honey me!'� I said ferociously. I felt as if I must have been foaming at the mouth, 'Where is my son!'� I screamed, my hands gripped his, my fingernails clawed violently at his hand. He jumped back looking at me as if I was some sort of animal and that's exactly how I felt. If he said those words, I'd kill him. If he told me my son was gone, I'd kill him. I couldn't think. All I could do is feel. I felt it was his fault. I felt that if I could just get my hands lose I'd make him hurt as bad as I was hurting.
Allen quickly left ushered out by a blonde nurse that attempted to protect him from his horrible wife. The orderly came in and put a hand on mine. He was a big man and his firm grip quieted me instantly. As he looked into my eyes I saw sincerity there. I lay back, my shoulders sinking. I knew what they would tell me. My son was gone. I lay there for what seemed like hours. The orderly never moved, his hand covering mine. I realized I was gripping his large fingers in my hand tightly. He leaned over and released one of my arms. I put my hand to my face and began to cry. I was ashamed. I hid my face from the world. My son was dead and I couldn't save him . . . I hadn't saved him.
I didn't attend my son's funeral. I actually never saw him. Allen told me that the accident had been pretty bad and he had been badly scarred. I watched Allen tell me this wondering how he could compose himself. How could he talk to me as if I were just another one of his clients he was breaking the bad news to? Perhaps he grieved in his own way but I never saw it. Allen was as detached from the situation as he was from most things.
Three days later they transferred me to Baxley Hospital, a place for the mentally unstable. Allen came to visit me every day at first but soon his schedule was more and more crowded and I was seeing less and less of him. I really didn't mind. Seeing him was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. My mother came to visit me often and it was of little comfort. The only times when my mind wasn't plagued by strings of unyielding questions was when Jacob would give me painting lessons. He was the orderly in charge of my floor. He said he was going to school to become an artist some day but I told him he was already an artist.
'What do you think of this?'� I asked Jacob turning my canvas around to show him. Jacob was over 6 feet tall and stocky. Most people would take one look at him and think he was a force to be reckoned with but Jacob was really a softy. He smiled and tears slowly formed in his eyes.
'That's beautiful, see I told you it was easy when you paint from your heart,'� he said wiping a way a stray tear.
'You're too kind,'� I laughed and turned the canvas back so I could look at it better. It was how I remembered Jeremy.
The police never found the person who'd rammed us and if it weren't for the damage done to my car I think they would have believed I was trying to kill myself. Allen became more and more accusatory towards me. Often after an argument he would let some dark thought slip about how I should have done something to save Jeremy. It hurt more than he even cared but in a way it felt good because I knew he missed our son as well.
After six months I was released from Baxley and Allen came to take me home. I could tell he had grown used to his freedom. I knew this was probably the end of our marriage but I sat down in the passenger side of his new Mercedes and I looked him over. I realized I wasn't sorry. I didn't want anything more to do with Allen.

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