Part One: Chapter One

August 28, 1979

Sara awakened to the loud clap of thunder, the pounding of rain, and flashing of lightning. She pushed herself up in bed, and looked over towards the small radio-clock by her bedside: 4:30 a.m. Instead of flopping back under her covers for more sleep, she propped herself upon her elbows and gazed quietly out the window at the trickling streams of rainwater falling down the windowpane.

She had dreamt a nice dream that night, but it was more memory than dream. It was her first visit to the beach, her fifth birthday present, one of her favorite memories. She hadn't gone since, not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't. After that last year of general happiness, it went downhill faster than a bowling ball dropped from a twenty-story building. Her father had gotten a job with better pay. Things were still good. Her mother opened a bed and breakfast with the money. Everything was still fine; Sara was even allowed to play with some of the kids and their families that dropped by to spend the night.

The problems started when it began taking her father longer and longer to get home. She could remember one night, sometime in January two years before:


Sara sat in the middle of the living room floor playing marbles. Her mother was lying on the couch, half-asleep. It was nearing midnight and Sara and her mother had been up all night, waiting for her father to get home. She flicked marbles back and forth, back and forth, watching them roll against each other, bumping and pushing by the mere shove of her finger.

"Sara honey," her mother mumbled suddenly, sitting up on the couch.

"Yes Mommy?"

"It's time for you to go to bed."

"But I want to stay up for Daddy to get home!"

"I don't think he'll get back for awhile. Besides, it's a school night, you need your rest."

Sara stuck out her lip in another pout.

"Daddy wouldn't send me to bed."

"Daddy's not here."

Laura picked her daughter from the ground and cradled her, walking towards the bedroom. She laid her down gently under the covers and handed Sara 'Herbert,' her stuffed puppy.

"Where is Daddy, Mom?" Sara asked, gazing up at her mother. Laura had bags under her eyes and her hair was tousled and appeared worn. Her dark eyes seemed worried and angry.

"I'm not sure."

Sara had fallen asleep restlessly that night, but soon awakened to voices from the other room.

"Your daughter was waiting for you to get home for three hours! She went to bed only two hours ago! Where have you been?" Her mother's voice was filled with disbelief, shock, and anger.

"I got held up at the office."

"No you didn't! I know you didn't! You've been somewhere else! Somewhere you're not supposed to be! If you weren't, you would have called in! You would have told me you weren't going to be home anytime soon!"

"It's nothing like you're thinking Laura!"

"Then what is it then?" she shouted, voice cracking angrily.

"Nothing!"

"Yes it is!"

Suddenly a crash, a yelp of pain, and the sound of scattering marbles filled Sara's ears.


That was their first hospital visit. Jim had pushed Laura, who had fallen on Sara's marbles. A sprained wrist and bruised back were all that had occurred, but that wasn't the end of it. The next time her father came home late, the argued yet again, that time her mother ended up with a beaten face.

Her father came home later and later since then, sometimes drunk, sometimes angry. Her mother began drinking profusely, to the point of alcoholism. They fought regularly every night. And this night was no different.

"Took you long enough to get home!" Her mother's angry voice echoed into the room. "Who was it this time? Your secretary or your coworker?"

"Nobody! I was held up at the office and stopped for a few drinks on the way home!"

"Oh, it was the bartender?"

"No! Stop accusing me!"

"Accusing? ACCUSING? I'm not accusing! I'm finding the truth!"

"Just shut up Laura! Leave me be!"

"I WILL!"

Sara could hear footsteps coming to her bedroom door. She pulled her head off her arms and looked towards it. The door swung open, a stressed looking Jim stomping into the room. He slammed the door angrily, so hard everything in the room shook.

"Dad?" Sara muttered in a whisper, turning around and sitting properly.

"What!" he yelled, swinging around to face her.

She cringed backwards and her eyes filled with tears.

"No…honey, Sara, don't cry. Please—I didn't mean to make you cry." He held out his arms and strode towards her after flipping on a light, embracing her tightly in an attempt to comfort her. Sara sniffed and wiped her tears away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry. You scared me. I don't like it when you and mom yell, especially at me."

He broke out of the hug and looked down at Sara, still furiously wiping her eyes.

"Why do you and mom always fight?" Sara asked, gazing up into her dad's eyes, tears finally gone from hers, though her voice was ridden with them.

He heaved a sigh and looked up at the rain-ridden window.

"Dad?" she insisted quietly.

"Your mother seems to think I don't love her anymore, that I love somebody else."

"You do. You love Mom and me. Doesn't she know that?"

"Well, she knows I love you. She thinks I love somebody else's Mom."

"That's silly."

"I know," He looked away from the window back down at Sara. "I will always love your mother. And you too. I'll never stop, even after I die."

"Don't say that. You'll never die." She glared at him.

"Everyone dies eventually. It's something you can choose to deal with now or later."

Sara smiled.

"You're so wise Dad."

"Wise?"

"That's what Miss Herdman said last year. She said people who give good advice based on their past experiences and know lots are wise."

"Do you think Miss Herdman is wise?"

"No, she knows lots but she doesn't give good advice."

He chuckled heartily.

"I think you're wise Sara."

"That's silly. I'm not wise."

"I say you are so you are."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She went silent and stared down at her hands. A few minutes of silence passed, her father stroking her dark hair.

"Why do you hit Mom sometimes?" Sara interrupted the silence with the same curious tone she always used when asking questions.

Jim's eyes seemed to glaze over and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Look at the time!" he exclaimed spotting the radio-clock. "I didn't even think I'd been out this late…early. You need to get some sleep young lady. To sleep, go on, under the covers with Sara."

"I'm not tired."

"But Mom and Dad are so you need to sleep until we're done sleeping."

"But—"

"No buts!"

She huffed angrily but pulled the covers over herself all the same. He stood up, blew her a kiss, turned the light off with an 'I love you', and left. Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Sara sat stealthily up in her bed, reached under her pillow and pulled out a thick book.

She spent the rest of that morning reading.