Ray Gorham - 77 Days in September

Jennifer flipped slowly through the rest of their wedding album before moving on to the other albums that crowded the bookshelf, reliving the nearly seventeen years since she’d first met Kyle. The first picture she had of Kyle was from her freshman English class, taken with a friend’s new digital camera to show her roommate the cute guy who kept asking her out. The photo, showing Kyle as he was about read a paper in front of the class, had been tacked up on her dorm room wall for the final two months of the semester. It would have been a perfect photo, had it not been for her purse strap blocking part of the shot as she’d attempted to conceal the camera. After taking the picture, Jennifer and her friend had laughed so hard they had distracted Kyle, ruining his concentration as he kept checking his zipper, probably costing him a letter grade.

Other albums were filled with memories of vacations, birthdays, kids’ sports, and school programs. Jennifer loved to look through her albums, but this was the first time she had opened them since Kyle had been gone. Every picture of him was another reminder of his absence, filling her heart with loneliness until it was saturated and overflowing.

Spencer walked into the room, noticed her tears, and came over and gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, then headed back to his room to play. Jennifer choked out a teary “thank you” as he walked away, then opened up the last album.

The most recent photos she had printed were from this year’s Father’s Day camping trip and showed Kyle packing up their tent as they got ready to head home Sunday afternoon. His face was sunburned and mosquito bitten, and his elbow was bandaged from a fall the day before, but despite his injuries, he was still mugging for the camera, with Spencer clinging to his back while David chased Emma with a grass snake in the background. Jennifer lingered on this picture for a long time, reliving the weekend over and over in her memory and wondering if they would ever have another day like that again.

Jennifer stroked Kyle’s cheek in the photo, then closed the book and hugged it to her chest. “I believe in you, Kyle,” she whispered. “However long it takes, I’ll be here.”

The front door swung open and a book bag dropped loudly to the floor. Jennifer heard Emma’s voice calling out to her. “Mom, I’m home. What’s for lunch?”

Thursday, September 29 th

Central Colorado

Day 27

Stopped early for the day. Stomach is not feeling good. Will try and get some extra rest and hopefully be off again in the morning. I’m on I-70, so lots of vehicles. Found a nice truck to stay in. The evenings are getting colder, so the shelter’s appreciated. Jennifer, I wish you were here to take care of me (I really wish I was there to take care of you). I hope this stomach bug isn’t too serious. I’ve been lucky with my health so far. I can see the mountains out the window, and they worry me.

I love you all.

Friday, September 30 th

Deer Creek, Montana

Jennifer sat in the living room, the sun having set an hour before and the night now too dark for reading. The kids were in bed and asleep, their schedules having adjusted to follow the sun’s — in bed at sundown and up at sunrise.

Tired from a long day of hauling water, canning with Grace next door, and teaching her assigned hours of school, Jennifer got up and headed for her bedroom. As she passed into the kitchen, there was a sharp knocking on the door, which made her jump. She stopped and stared at the door, her heart beating rapidly, not sure what to do. This was their first nighttime visitor since the event, and with no lights, the thought of opening the door scared her. After a second knock, she moved closer to the door and called out nervously. “Who is it?”

“It’s Chuck,” answered a voice.

Jennifer twisted the deadbolt and pulled the door open. “Chuck, is everything okay wi…,” she began, then realized it was Doug, not Chuck, standing in the darkness grinning at her. “Doug? What are you…you lied to me!” she fumed and tried to slam the door shut, but Doug blocked it with his foot. “What do you want?” she demanded as she pushed the door against his foot. “You know how I feel. Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“Why don’t you like me?” Doug asked, ignoring her questions. “You’ve been alone for four weeks now.. I’m really sorry, Jenn, but your husband would be back by now, if he was coming.”

“Quit saying that!” she spat at him. “I don’t care what you think, Doug. And whether he’s coming back or not, I don’t want to be with you. Why can’t I get that through to you?” Jennifer could make out a smirk on Doug’s face, and could hear him breathing loudly. She tried to force the door closed again, but his foot was still blocking it. “Doug, my kids are asleep. Please go away.”

“Jennifer, I’ve been totally alone for four weeks. It’s almost been a month. Can you believe that? Our world’s been screwed up now for four full weeks, and we don’t even know how long it’s going to take to fix it. I was wondering, Jennifer, would you do me a favor?” His speech was slurred, and she could smell alcohol on his breath as he leaned in close to her in an attempt to whisper.

“What do you want, Doug?” she replied, no longer trying to force the door shut.

“Would you just give me a hug?”

“What?”

“I want a hug, some human contact. Do you have any idea at all how hard it is to be alone so much? I want to feel like someone cares about me.”

“What are you talking about? You’re drunk. Go home and sleep it off, before you do something stupid.”

“I’m not drunk…I was telling you, I’m alone. The girl I was dating, she lives on the other side of Missoula…I can’t call anyone…I don’t have kids to give me a goodnight kiss or a dog to sit beside me on the couch…I can’t even get online anymore. The only contact I have with people is at our stupid community meetings or when I walk around the town, and all that is is business. No one cares about me. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s just ‘Hi, Doug’, ‘Thanks, Doug’, ‘Goodbye, Doug’. There’s always a goodbye. I hate that word; they may as well be saying ‘get out of my life.’ Jennifer, it’s been more than four weeks since I’ve had physical contact with anyone, at least beyond a stupid handshake.”

“Why me, Doug? There has to be someone else.”

“There isn’t, and I like you. You’re nice, and you’re really pretty, and with your husband away…you know…I thought we could help each other out.”

Jennifer wanted to slam the door and be rid of him, but she knew she wasn’t strong enough to take him on, if it came to that, even if he was drunk. A part of her was touched by what he said. As much as she hated to admit it, she believed him. It had been a long time since she’d felt the feelings Doug was talking about, of having someone who cared about you, just because you were you. As much as she’d come to loathe Doug over the past couple of weeks, his words managed to stir her compassion. “If I give you a hug, will you go home and leave me alone?” She could feel her heart pounding and was sure Doug could hear it in the silence of the evening.

“That’s it. Just a hug. Then I’ll go home. I promise.”

Jennifer hesitated, then released her grip on the door. “Don’t come in my house,” she warned as she stepped forward.

Doug stepped away from the door to let her come outside.

For a brief moment, she thought about slamming the door, but worried about how he’d react to that in the coming days and weeks, let alone that night. Jennifer closed her eyes in resignation and stepped onto the front step.