I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
―Robert Frost
I needed to walk, to clear my mind, to lower my stress. I was caught up in a vortex of events that was spinning faster and faster until it became a whirlpool sucking me in.
Walking was my antidote to stress. I could think clearer when I walked and the rhythm of footfalls was tranquillizing and liberating, allowing my subconscious free rein.
And a few stray raindrops on the wind wouldn't deter me. I simply pulled up the hood of my Northface parka and pressed on into the night.
As I walked a flood of images flashed across my mind―Cindy being ogled by Hans Bauer, Esther's Victorian house oriented to avoid direct sunlight, the pamphlet produced by the Aryan Brotherhood to stir up fear of the Other, the Alien―to cast doubt on anyone who wasn't Nordic.
It was dizzying as a fever dream but all too real.
I was reminded of Frost's poem, Acquainted With the Night, where he walks and observes, hearing a cry from another street but reserves judgment and keeps walking.
I was tempted to close my eyes too and not hear the cries of the dozen bodies Abe and Cindy already recovered, to stop my ears to voices calling out for justice, but I couldn't do it.
So I walked on through wet streets letting the wind buffet me, letting the storm soothe me with its soft thunder.
After a while, I glanced at my watch―it was past eleven―time to turn back and call it a night.
But it was then, when I had completely relaxed and was open to my surroundings that I saw it―just a momentary shift and movement―a shadow in the corner of my eye.
I stopped and turned around, squinting into slanting rain, but there was nothing but darkened storefronts, blackened alleyways and masses of tree shadows flickering like ripples on a dark lake.
I felt a tingle at the nape of my skull, an ancient, primitive instinct that telegraphed danger. I quickened my step.
Intuitively I knew it best to walk rapidly without looking back, but despite rain and wind my senses were attuned to a new sound―and now selectively focussed, I could hear the unmistakable sound of feet matching my own pace and growing louder with each beat.
I knew there was a bend ahead and a row of shops and as I neared the spot I used the few seconds when I disappeared from sight to run, praying my feet wouldn't slip on the rain-slicked walk.
I ducked into an alleyway and waited, out of breath, but straining to hear any approaching sound.
There were the sound of two people running and then a voice called out, "Helmut, er ist diesen Weg gegangen."
I saw two burly men hurry by the alley in the direction I was going.
I was desperate. I knew they'd contact others and I'd be trapped. I panicked for a moment and then remembered my cell phone and punched in Cindy's number.
She picked up on the first ring.
"Two men are after me. I'm in an alleyway on Hamilton Street."
"Stay where you are. I'll be right there."
She clicked off before I could give specific details. Great, just great! I muttered, as I fumbled with the phone trying to reconnect.
Before I could redial, a pair of headlights came up the alley behind me. I was frozen in their glare and unable to think, let alone move.
The headlights were blinding and I could hear a car door open and a figure approaching.
Before I could react, I heard Cindy's voice, "It's okay, Laird, c'mon, get in the car."
Dazed I stumbled toward the lights and within moments we backed out onto a side street and were heading back toward my place.
"Not a good plan, Prof, to go for a midnight walk in the rain."
"How did you know where I was?" I croaked.
"I was watching you the whole time. I saw those goons and called for back up, but we won't pick them up because it might spook the Brotherhood. I don't want them onto us."
"I'm sorry. I guess Esther was right―these guys are getting impatient. Obviously, there's something they want."
"And tonight it was you," she smirked.
"That's not exactly reassuring," I grimaced.
"Your place is staked out―it's safe. But our team will step up the watch tonight and I'll check in with you tomorrow."
"Okay, sounds like a plan," I said bleakly. "Oh, and thanks."
She leaned across and kissed me, so deeply, I was breathless. "And don't give me any more grief," she smiled, "for tonight, at least."
I watched her tail lights fade into the rain, red as a lipstick squiggle on the wet street...red as the small bruise left on my cheek...red as the blur of her mouth in memory.