Twenty-Four Shadows. Tanya J. Peterson

She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. Isaac isn’t musical. He’s not in a band. Wouldn’t you think I would know it if my husband was a trumpet player in a band?” She could hear the stress in her voice, but at the moment she had no ability to control it. “None of this makes any sense. None of it!” She threw her arms up in frustration as she began to pace. “He’s been fired. He’s gone. He’s supposedly in some band. All weekend he acted more strangely than usual.” She stopped pacing and spun to face Max. She knew that he didn’t know the answer, but still, she beseeched anyway, “What’s going on?”

      “Maybe—”

      Reese talked over him. “I don’t understand this at all. He was so mad at Gretchen for leaving. And despite his weirdness that night, afterward he was so very loving, and so desperate for our love, too. He said that he wanted us to be together for always and forever. Those were his exact words, Max. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to us like it did to you, yet two days later he disappeared!” Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t continue. She looked imploringly at Max, as if she could make him wave a magic wand and fix this for her. What she saw was a friend struggling for control. He shifted not quite imperceptibly on his feet. He bit his lower lip, and tears filled his eyes. Almost in slow motion, her hands came to her face and covered her mouth lightly. Words edged past them. “I am so, so sorry.”

      She watched Max’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. She saw him blink rapidly and shake his head. Finally, he spoke. “You don’t ever need to apologize.” He paused and took a ragged breath. “This whole situation just plain sucks.” When he pressed his hands hard into his eyes and choked on a sob, Reese rushed to him. They clung tightly to each other and, each supported by the other, gave in to every strong emotion that had been building for four long days.

      The four long days turned into more. She felt as though she were far out on a stormy ocean, lying face down on a splintered, water-logged raft, gulping and choking on wave after wave of water crashing over her and Dominic. When Max was around, though, he was her mast. He couldn’t calm the storm for any of them, but at least he gave her something to cling to and stay upright. However, when he offered to take more time off work, Reese insisted that he go back on Monday. She was eager to fall back into her daily routine with Dominic and now Elise. They all needed routine, Max included. Yet sticking to routines meant that life marched on relentlessly. Although she managed to act normal and cheerful with Dominic, the storm continued to rage on deep inside of her. She felt chaotic and sick and angry and devastated and worried on the inside. Every single night she left a light on in the den so Isaac could see it from the street and be greeted by its warm glow when he walked through the front door. Every single morning when she switched it off, the click echoed painfully in the empty room.

      On Thursday, she was outside in the front yard, playing hopscotch with Dominic while Elise cheered them on from her stroller. Dominic tossed his rock, and it landed on the nine. Nine. Reese mused that it had been nine days since she had last seen her husband. She wanted to snatch up the rock, draw a zero on the hopscotch board, and glue the rock to it for zero days since she last saw him. As she was lost in this thought, she heard tires crunching on pebble-dusted pavement, signaling an approaching vehicle. She ignored it until she realized that it was pulling into her driveway. Isaac! Her stomach lurched and her heart beat wildly. She spun around to face the driveway, but instantly froze. Her heart, continuing its frenzied pounding but now doing so for another reason altogether, dropped into the pit of her stomach when she saw that the vehicle was a police car. The world around her seemed to stop; even the birds had stopped their chirping, squawking, and flapping. Everything was freeze-framed, other than the laborious, mechanical motion of two police officers extracting themselves from their patrol car and beginning to close in on her. With sweaty hands, she rubbed her eyes to clear her vision. These men looked like zombies shuffling stiffly and crookedly toward her, but a part of her mind was still rational and knew they were walking to her like human beings. Dominic’s enthusiastic peal of delight broke her out of her stupefied trance.

      “Mommy, look! Police officers!”

      “Um, yes, sweetie. I see them.”

      The two officers approached her. They stopped. One of them greeted Dominic while the other asked her, “Are you Reese Bittman, Isaac Bittman’s wife?”

      She wanted to say, “Yes, I am, and my husband is in the house.” But her mouth had gone dry and she couldn’t get the words out. Instead she simply nodded. When she heard her son’s little voice babbling enthusiastically to the officers, she cleared her throat and attempted to speak. “Dominic, honey, I need to talk to these officers. Boring grown-up stuff. Will you wait for me inside, please?”

      “Aw, Mommy!”

      “Dominic. Wait inside.” She wasn’t sure how she had sounded when she said this, but it must have been obvious she meant business because Dominic was retreating into the house. Slowly and deliberately, she turned back to the police officers. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was still arid. She just stared at them, wanting them to tell her what this visit was about but somehow not wanting to hear it.

      “Mrs. Bittman,” one of them began, “Your husband arrived at Peace General Medical Center in Portland a short while ago.”

      “What?” Reese wasn’t sure if that was a shout or a whisper. It felt like both.

      “He’s currently being treated, but he’s in critical condition. It’s advisable for you to get there as soon as you can.”