Slowly, he revolved through the crowd, terror-stricken. His palms were sweaty. His knees were weak. Sarah had warned him against going to the market.
"There are so many corners, Dave. There are too many people, Dave. Dave, Dave! You're stupid, Dave."
He couldn't stop breathing. He tried to calm down, breathe more slowly--to maybe gain a semblance of control--but it didn't work. His wife had been right. He hated it when Sarah was right.
He threw himself into the crowd with renewed vigor. He searched for a heart-wrenching ten minutes, and then gave up on himself.
"God, I know I've not been the most faithful man. But I've been to enough church to know that bargaining doesn't work with you. I'm here with nothing. I went to bible camp in the seventh grade, and I saved a kid in a crosswalk when I was seventeen. I told the truth and was fired from my job. Really, my list of accomplishments is nothing. No leverage. So here's what I've got, God: nothing.
"Please let it be enough for my baby girl."
He opened his eyes.
His daughter wasn't there.
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Oh, man, that is just the worst.
ReplyDeleteIt's like . . . I don't know. Hostages. I kept thinking of Daniel and Joseph and Jesus.
I hate being lost.
I'm sorry she got lost. I'm sorry he missed her.
Usually, when I'm lost, no one misses me. I think that's better. I don't know.
What's the ending?
I think he finds her, one agonizing eternity later. This is sad. And terrifying. But well done.
ReplyDeleteI like your optimism, Brooke. I thought he'd just spend the rest of his life carrying this terrible burden of guilt because he couldn't find her and didn't even know whom to ask and finally had to go home and lost his wife but didn't blame her for it because how could he? and then he spent everything trying to atone for it but it was never enough and his relentless negativity drove everyone else away and he died old and alone because of this one mistake that might not have even been his in the first place.
ReplyDeleteBut hat's just one scenario.
I left it open for ^ that reason. But I, speaking as a possible futurefather, would like to believe that he finds her, and scolds her, and then breaks down crying with relief, and then holds her hand as he runs back to the car, and drives her to dairy queen, and takes her home and rides around the block with her on bicycles and tries to cherish the afternoon he's been given.
ReplyDeleteBut again, only one interpretation, I guess.
I wanted it to be crushing, but not horrifying.
That is adorable and sweet and I'm glad you wrote it.
ReplyDeleteDon't worry. Hats are scenarios now.
Sorry, Robby.
Hats? Totally lost.
ReplyDeleteI'm mocking my own typo.
ReplyDelete