by Nancy Allan
Amy dug her feet into the sand and raced up the beach, the roar of the sea pounding in her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a massive wall of green water curling behind her. Adrenaline pumped through her arteries and she spurted forward. She leapt over a log, and bolted for the rock embankment, striking it at full speed, desperately wedging her body into a crevice. The wave, a huge green claw, impaled itself on the embankment, sending tons of water into the air. The force of it flung her backward into the crevice, smashed her head and shoulder against the rock, pinning her, and drenching her with cold seawater. Pain ripped across the back of her eyes. She gulped salt water and choked, wishing desperately that the crevice was deeper.
The suction would come next. She knew she had to hold tight or be carried out to sea. Digging her feet into the rocky ledge, she stuffed her body into the wedge and wrapped her fingers around an extruding stone. The giant wave receded, its powerful suction tearing at her, ripping her fingers off the rock, and lifting her out of the crevice. She clawed at the rock, but the suction was too strong.
Amy was submerged now, unable to breathe, being swept backward over the sand. She clawed at it, hoping to stop the backward momentum, but the sand traveled with her. She tumbled in the receding surge. Her lungs were bursting. Something struck her foot. It was the log she had jumped over a few minutes earlier. She wrapped her arms and legs around it and held on tight. For a moment it held firm. The water receded past her and she surfaced, gasping for air. Then the log shifted, and they began to slide together down the beach. They were being sucked out to sea!
Amy could see deep water approaching fast. Only a few seconds left. The log hit something hard and came to a jarring stop, throwing her forward. She dug her feet into the sand and for a second she obtained a foothold, then the sand washed out from beneath her. She propelled herself forward again and dove for a boulder that protruded from the wash. Grabbing it, she held on while water and sand swirled past her. When she looked up, the surge was gone.
Amy tried to stand. Her legs were barely able to hold her, her body drained. She gasped and choked and coughed water from her lungs; then staggered up the beach, wet clothes clinging to her body. Shaking with cold and exhaustion, she collapsed at the bottom of the staircase and vomited seawater into the sand. With watery eyes she looked out at the angry sea.
Sneaker Waves.
Life is full of them.
CHAPTER 9
Amy was in a deep, troubled sleep when a sound awoke her. She was lying on her side, back to the bedroom door, but she dared not roll over until she could figure out what had awakened her. She scanned the window side of the room: the curtains were still, the rocking chair empty. Dan’s bed was unoccupied. He hadn’t come home.
Nothing moved.
Then she heard it again. Closer this time. Behind her, near the door. A footstep? Her heart began to pound, her ears alert for the next sound, her body tense.
Was it Dan? He always went straight to the bathroom, closed the door, and switched on the light. Not only that, he always made a lot of noise. So it wasn’t Dan.
Amy had no weapon and vowed to get one for the bedside table. Every muscle in her body was poised for action.
Suddenly, two gloved hands grasped her head and pushed her face into the pillow.
Amy kicked out, her body flying off the bed.
“Don’t move!” Male voice--garbled. Strong hands.
The intruder slammed her down hard onto the mattress, shoving her face back into the pillow. Her heart went into overtime. She couldn’t stand closed spaces, let alone being smothered. It was her only phobia and it was debilitating. Now, it mixed with the fear for her life.
His hand squeezed the back of her head where she’d been bruised and cut by the rogue wave. “Lie still and you won’t get hurt!” He wheezed in her ear. “Stop! That’s better. Now listen carefully. You made a big mistake calling the Sheriff. Back him off before it’s too late. You hear! Back him off fast or your boy will pay for your stupidity.”
Fear pierced right through Amy’s chest. No. Not Jamie! She tried to nod, to tell him she understood, not to hurt Jamie, but his grip was viselike.
“Understand?” The pressure on the back of her head let up slightly.
“Yes!” Amy choked.
“Good,” said the muffled voice, “I’m going to let go. Don’t raise your head. Don’t move! Got that?”
“Yes!” Amy’s muffled reply sounded more like, “Us!”
He released her and said nothing more. Amy remained stone still under the pillow, sweat pouring off her. There was no air! She bit her lip trying to control her panic. Twisting her head away from the pillow an inch at a time, she finally freed herself and inhaled deeply.
At last, she could see across the room. It was dark, but she knew he was gone. The room was heavy with his presence. Sitting up, she grabbed the phone and with shaky fingers, she speed dialed Nita. After three rings her sister-in-law’s groggy voice answered. “’Lo?”
“It’s Amy,” she whispered hoarsely. “I know it’s late, but could you please check on Jamie.”
“What? It’s three in the morning!”
“Nita, someone broke into our house. He threatened to hurt Jamie. Please Nita, make sure he’s okay.”
“Broke in your house? When? Now?”
“Yes! Nita, please!”
“Be right back.”
Amy paced the floor beside her bed. For all she knew he—whoever he was-- could still be inside the house. Hurry up!
Nita came back on. “Jamie’s sound asleep. Everything’s fine. You want me to call 911?”
“No! They’ll hurt Jamie if we do that. You understand me, Nita? Don’t call anyone.”
“I don’t understand—“
“Wake up Brandon—“
“He’s awake.”
“Check your doors and windows. Make sure they’re locked. Let the dog out. If anyone comes onto the property he’ll bark. And Nita?”
“What?”
“Bring Jamie into the room with you. Don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Amy—”
“Bye. And thanks, Nita.” Amy set the handset onto the charger and tiptoed to her closet where she had tucked away the baseball bat she had bought for Jamie’s birthday. She gripped the handle and walked softly into the hall. Cautiously, she worked her way through the house, arms and shoulders tensed, ready to swing. She checked windows and doors, and turned on lights. On the main floor she felt a cool breeze coming from the laundry room. Tightening her grip on the bat, she crept to the laundry room door, readied the bat, and looked inside. No one. The window was wide open, and below it, leaves and dirt littered the floor. He came in through here! Amy shuddered, yanked the wooden window closed, and turned the lock.
The break-in jarred her. She felt violated even though he had not hurt her. She was angry that he broke into her home, but most of all, she was terrified for Jamie. She paced the entrance hall, the family room, the library, and ended up in the kitchen, where she put on a pot of coffee. She paced while she waited for it to brew.
He had grabbed her head and pushed her into the pillow, but in the split second before his glove touched her, she had inhaled. There had been a distinctive and familiar odor on the glove, but she couldn’t place it. She poured coffee into a tall mug, knowing she would never go back to sleep.
Something terrible was happening, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She had seen the injured woman and called the sheriff’s office. Now, Jamie was in danger. How could she get the Sheriff to back off? She needed help, but if she couldn’t get it from the police, then where? Dragging anyone else into this would be crazy. She was trapped. Gramps is right. I should take Jamie and get out of here.
Amy had her back to the living room. Something inside the house had changed. She could feel it. Looking up, Amy saw an image on the microwave glass. A man was behind her. Amy gasped and whipped around, coffee flying from her cup.
“Dan!” she screamed. Her cup crashed to the floor.
He stood perfectly still, his eyes on her, his face inflamed with angry red bumps.
Amy leaned on the counter, her heart hammering in her chest. Why had Dan made this sudden, silent appearance behind her when he usually makes enough noise for three people? “What are you doing! Why did you sneak up on me like that? What’s the matter with you? And why are you standing there, gaping at me? Jesus!” Angrily, she reached under the sink for a cloth, and then knelt to wipe up the spilled coffee.
Dan didn’t move, nor did he speak. Instead, he watched her mutely, a crazy, disjointed look on his face. Infuriated, Amy’s cloth flew in all directions at once, slapping against chair legs and cupboards. She stood up, tossing the mug into the sink. “What's the matter with you!” she yelled. “It’s like the twilight zone around here—a lookalike that somebody wants dead, a car pushed over a cliff, a warm fuzzy letter telling me about your affair, a Sneaker Wave out of nowhere—” Her voice rose to a breaking crescendo. “and then some thug breaks in here and threatens to hurt Jamie…”
“Rogue wave? Thug? You’re talking crazy.”
“Crazy! You have no idea what’s been going on, but threatening to hurt Jamie is the last straw.” She knew she was screaming, but couldn’t stop herself.
“Who would hurt Jamie? You’re losing it, Amy.”
Amy stood and let fly with the towel. It struck him on the cheek and fell to the floor. She suddenly felt better and used her sleeve to wipe the tears from her face. She had never done anything like that. Maybe Dan was right—she was losing it. Too much going wrong too fast. Get a grip!
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Finally Dan broke the silence. “I’m leaving.”
“You just got here.”
“No Amy. I’m leaving permanently.”
Amy gaped at him. “What! Because I threw a towel at you?”
“No. Because it’s time, that’s all.”
“Time! You mean you set an alarm seven years ago, and it just went off?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’ve spent the last—how many years—screwing around. Now, you’re tired of playing husband and you’re bailing, is that it?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Really? You’ve got a libido from hell that croaks the minute you come near me, and I don’t understand?”
Dan backed away from her. “We’ll talk when you calm down.”
“I don’t intend to calm down, Dan. You’ve screwed your patients, compromised your practice, and now you’re destroying our family.”
He stared at her, the red welts standing out on his face.
“Is it that woman you got pregnant? Are you leaving me for her?”
Dan’s mouth fell open. “How did you hear about that?”
“You couldn’t stand me after Jamie was born. What makes you think you’ll feel any different about her?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Her problem’s been taken care of, so forget it.”
Amy was appalled. “Just like that? Forget it?” Her voice sounded strange. “Are you kidding? You screwed that woman while you were married to me. And she had to get in line! How do you think I feel being dumped for a laundry list of women—”
“Stop!” Dan yelled back. “Those women meant nothing.”
Amy dropped her voice. It was an angry hush. “Just an opportunity to practice lots of safe sex, huh?”
Dan was momentarily speechless. “What’s up with you? Where’s all this coming from?”
Amy ran her hands through her hair angrily. “The unfaithful husband runs off. Is that what this is?” she asked flatly.
He started for the stairs. “It’s not like that. You don’t understand.”
“I’m supposed to understand?”
“It’s complicated.” He put one foot on the bottom step and stopped to look at her. “This has nothing to do with any of–of that. It’s something else altogether.”
Amy stared at him, dumbfounded. “Really? You mean there’s more that I don’t know about?”
Dan continued up the stairs. “Lots more.”
“Dammit!” Amy threw up her hands in frustration.
While he packed, Amy stood at the far end of the living room; her eyes fixed on their wedding photo, her thoughts once again on re-run. Finally, she switched off the living room lights so she could see across the bay and walked out onto the veranda. The moon glistened on the dark ocean surface. The night was silent except for waves washing softly over the sand. Everything beyond her porch looked normal. How could that be?
In the past thirty hours her entire life had turned upside down. Nothing made sense anymore. She tried to sort her thoughts from her feelings, but couldn’t separate them. Her brain had mutated into a mass of swirling confusion and chaos. Amy closed her eyes. She was scared, not only because of everything that had happened, but because she was completely alone with no one to turn to. She felt her life tumbling away. Tears ran down her cheeks. With Dan gone, she would be left to run the house alone, raise Jamie alone, make decisions alone, and worst of all, live as an adult—alone. She was terrified of what lie ahead.
She had arrived at a turning point in her life.
Stepping back inside, Amy locked the sliding door behind her. She saw Dan drag four heavy bags outside. He left without another word, slamming the door closed behind him. She double locked it and stood dumbfounded in the entry. Her emotions churned, but she could no longer make sense out of what she was feeling or thinking. Even the house felt different—still and uncertain.
Amy forced her emotions on hold, a survival trick she’d learned after her parents died. She couldn’t deal with Dan’s departure right now, nor could she bear to be alone. She was worried about Jamie and needed to think. For now, Jamie was safe with Nita and Brandon. Whoever had threatened her wouldn’t know where Jamie was. The danger would come when she picked him up from Nita’s, twelve hours from now. Quickly, she showered and dressed, leaving the house before dawn.
CHAPTER 10
By the time the sun rose above the treetops, Amy had reached the small community of Beaverdale, where she was born. It was her hope that she would find some answers in her birthplace. Her plan was twofold. First, talk to her grandparents’ neighbors to see if anyone remembered her mother and father. They had lived with her grandparents when Amy was born. It was a long shot, but she might learn something that would help. Second, Amy wanted to visit the records department at St. Mary’s hospital, where she was born.
Exiting the I-5, she passed through Beaverdale and continued on to the countryside. The day promised blue sky and a cool fall sun. Fall leaves swirled around the jeep as it bounced over the rutted bridge deck near her grandparent’s old house. Amy drove down the hill, and came to a stop in front of the white, impeccably landscaped sixties house that they owned decades earlier. An aging Paperbark Maple stood like a sentry next to the drive. Childhood memories rushed back.
The blue-green river that ambled behind the house triggered a different memory. It was the day Amy had gone fishing with the small fishing pole her dad had made for her. She’d waded out to a boulder, midstream, climbed up on it, and cast the line like her father had taught her. Suddenly, the line pulled taut and the pole flew out of her small hand. She jumped to catch the rod, but her foot slipped off the rock and she found herself in deep water on the far side of the boulder. Amy could still see herself dropping through the slow moving water, onto the rocky riverbed. The current dragged her helplessly along it. She looked up and wondered how to get back up to the surface. Her small body screamed for air, but she knew there was none. She scrambled up a submerged rock, but the surface was still too far away. Terrified and needing to breathe, she jumped upward, kicking hard, clawing at the water until she finally broke the surface. Two strong hands pulled her out. Her dad had reached her just in time. Amy recalled the huge lecture he had given her, not for fall
ing into the river, but for fishing without a worm.
The childhood memory made her think of Jamie. Nita should be up by now. Picking up her iPhone, Amy punched in the number. The call was answered right away. “Nita, it’s me.”
“Amy, is everything okay?”
“I’m okay. How’s Jamie?”
“Brandon took him over to the ballpark to play with the kids. Jamie’s having a great time, as always.”
Amy sighed with relief. “So listen, I’ll pick him up around six, if that works for you.”
There was a pause, then, “Sure.”
“See you later.” Amy slipped the phone into her pocket and climbed out of the truck. Glancing around the cul-de-sac, she saw that it was likely a tight knit neighborhood when her grandparents lived there. She hoped some of the residents from that era were still around and would remember her parents.
Amy headed for the house right next door. When no one answered her knock, Amy tried the next house up the road. An elderly woman poked her head out the door. Amy introduced herself and told the woman why she was there. “My grandparents, the Haddens, lived in that house over thirty years ago,” Amy turned and pointed to the old basement home by the river. “Did you know them?”
A wrinkled hand flew out to greet her. “How nice to see you. I’m Dorothy. I sure do remember your grandparents. I think I remember your mom too. Not that my memory is the best these days. But if I recall, she was expecting.” The woman smiled, “I guess that was you!”
The smile was infectious. “I guess it was,” Amy agreed.
Dorothy continued, “After your mom and dad moved away, I remember seeing you as a little girl, when you and your parents came back to visit. Imagine that.” The old woman patted Amy’s arm. “Your grandmother, Cynthia Hadden and I, were good friends you know. Even kept in touch after they moved to the coast. But I must say, I haven’t heard from her in quite a while.”
