A small ray of light
A small ray of morning light flickered through the bedroom curtains like confetti in the air. Lisa stared up at the ceiling of her room as she lay on the floor on top of the jumble of pillows and bed linen that had originally been on her bed the previous night. She gazed about the room as she looked to confirm that she was indeed awake and safe.She looked under her bed and to her surprise there she saw her field hockey s/tick.
Hey, there it is. She told herself as she reached under the bed and pulled the stick out. It was a bit dusty but still in one piece. She held it up in front of her as she lay on the floor.
The memories of playing field hockey years ago at school rushed back into her head. These thoughts brought a smile to her face as she began to recall some of the moves she made during matches against opposing teams. She remembered how happy she had once been. She got up from the floor still holding the stick in front of her in a stance ready for play as she lingered on the memory of her pushing her way across the playing field and lining up to take a shot at goal.
And then Lisa caught sight of herself in her bedroom mirror, and suddenly from far back in her mind the image of Jackson came pouncing out at her again with his knife in his hand. She jumped back from the mirror, startled that this vision would invade her room once more. She sat back down on the edge of her bed and looked at the hockey stick as she let it fall from her hands.
In the time that Lisa watched the stick fall to the floor, she remembered the sound of the gun going off in front of her face. Lisa remembered hearing herself scream and feeling the sharp tug at her hair on the back of her head. And she remembered falling forward at the same time she felt Jackson pull away and fall down behind her in the opposite direction.
Lisa stood up from the bed and stood over the hockey stick much like she had stood over Jackson as he lay helpless sprawled on the floor. She remembered the obvious look of pain on his face; the blood beginning to stain the front of his shirt; and the gun shot that had just sent him reeling backwards freeing her from his grip.
As Lisa continued to stare down at the hockey stick she could still hear Jackson's gurgled breathing as his chest heaved up and down. She recalled watching him struggle for air and not caring that he lay there dying. She remembered that he didn't say a thing to her as she stood over him. He just stared back. Was that sadness in his eyes? Was it anger? He just looked at her for a few seconds and then he looked away as if to dismiss her, or was it his acknowledgement of defeat? She didn't know, and would never know.
Lisa kicked at the hockey stick with her foot.
You're dead and gone, may you rest in peace where ever you are. She gave the stick one last kick and sent it sliding back under her bed. "There for safe keeping." She breathed out loud and walked away to her closet to begin her search for clothes to wear for the day.
Only then did Lisa hear the noise of the TV from downstairs. Oh no dad, I was going to wake him up!
Lisa quickly spun around and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 9:45 AM read the digital display in bold red numbers. She had forgotten to set her alarm clock again. She should have been up at 7:00 this morning for she had promised to help with making breakfast. But because she had not fallen asleep until 3:00 AM, she totally forgot her time commitments for the day. She quickly grabbed some clothes, threw them on the bed, and ran to the bathroom to shower.
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Joe Reisert was sitting at the breakfast counter in his kitchen going through the day's mail when he heard the sound of water running in the shower upstairs.
Thank goodness she's awake. Hmmm, a bit late but at least she's up and about, he thought as he glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall.
He had two stacks of mail in front of him on the marble counter top. One stack was for bills, and one was for miscellaneous ads. However, he held on to one last envelope that he was unable to identify. This letter had been delivered several days ago, but Joe was just now spending the time sorting his mail.
Joe walked to the counter close to the back door and began searching through a small drawer. Here he kept his extra pair of reading glasses. Finding them at last he walked back and sat at the counter again as he examined the return address listed on the envelope.
Hmmm, looks official, like some sort of government agency, but no real name listed on here as to who sent it to us.
Joe looked for something to open the envelope with. He found a table knife and carefully slit the top of the letter. Inside he found a long, typed document with an official government seal on the upper-right hand corner of the page.
Could this be the thank you note from the office of Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security Charles Keefe? Joe began to read the letter in earnest, but quickly put it down after reading the first paragraph. He gasped and placed his hand over his mouth at the same time.
Picking up the letter once more, Joe half walked, half staggered to his favorite chair and sat down hard, disregarding the letter as it dropped out of his hands. He sat in the chair totally stunned not knowing what to think. Then, he heard the sound of the radio upstairs in the bathroom. He looked up at the ceiling once more to listen to Lisa going about her morning routine.
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Lisa had just flipped the on switch to her bathroom radio as the DJ announcer mentioned a song called 'Vienna' by The Fray. She usually disregarded the radio, and only used it occasionally to distract her thoughts during her morning hours. So now having disrobed, she quickly slipped in behind the shower curtain as the radio sputtered through its noise of commercials.
The running water hit her full in the face as the cascading flow sent its spray of warmth drenching her hair, face, and body. She loved the sensual feeling of water falling along her shoulders and down her back. Like a nice warm blanket, she thought smiling with her eyes closed while letting the water completely envelop her.
She felt bad about missing breakfast with her dad. Now, she wanted to just relieve some of the stress that easily crept up on her over everything she did wrong.
The sensation of water pouring over her was so soothing to both her mind and melancholy spirit. She turned to let the water drench her face once again. She tilted her head back, and this time reveled in the sensation of water racing along her face, neck, shoulders, and further on down her body. She felt her tension slip away with the water that rushed on its own journey to the drain below her.
Lisa picked up the bar soap and began her usual pattern of lathering up her body and then rinsing off under this liquid warmth. She turned around rinsing herself in the small enclosure of the shower. She was careful not to slip as she gathered her wet, saturated hair away from her face.
Then, as she stood in the shower, Lisa became aware of the music from the radio filtering in through the shower curtain. This song started with a beautiful melodic piano sound that mimicked the water cascading around her.
Lisa smiled again to herself upon hearing the lovely music as she reached for her shampoo. She noted a very pleasant male voice singing along with the piano. This was a song she had never heard before. As she applied the shampoo to her hair, she noted the singer's soft, soothing voice.
Lisa stopped to listen to the singer, and upon hearing his words she accidentally let the shampoo pour out onto the shower floor. The song continued.
"There goes the downpour,
Here goes my fare thee well,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
'Cause I'm already gone ..."
Lisa knelt down and scooped the shampoo over to the drain. She continued to listen to this hauntingly beautiful voice flooding out from the radio.
"Only so many words that we can say,
Spoken upon long-distance melody,
This is my hello,
This is my goodness,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
'Cause I'm already gone ..."
Lisa stood up and looked at the shampoo in her hands and remembered washing her hands on a plane a few months earlier. The sadness and desperation of that time grew inside her again as the voice continued to sing.
"This is my distance,
This is my game face,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
Is there really no way to reach me?
Am I already ..."
She held her hands under the downpour of water and watched the shampoo melt away as the singer on the radio brought his song to a close. But Lisa no longer heard his voice. She was remembering the face of the charming stranger she had met in the airport. Suddenly, she envisioned Jackson toasting his glass to her and she remembered his words.
"Well, here's to Henrietta, whose spirit is very much alive."
Now the shower did not seem so comforting. Lisa closed her eyes and began to shampoo her hair. The feeling of regret and melancholy flooded over her again, like the water and shampoo suds that now trailed down her body.
The haunting song played on in her mind and this time Lisa began to sing the song softly to herself.
"There goes the downpour,
Here goes my fare thee well,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
There's really no way to reach me,
'Cause I'm already gone ...,"
Determined to get through this day with out any further disappointment, Lisa lifted her head to face the surging water one last time. She promised this would be today's final rinse of emotions and tears. She told herself that once she shut the water off, she would find composure again, go out, face her dad, and make the most of the rest of the day.
As Lisa turned the water off and reached for her towel, she continued to hum that sad melody to herself.
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Joe waited until he heard the sounds of Lisa's footsteps, before he stood up from his chair.
Lisa was dressed, vibrant, and ready to go. But she was almost too vibrant, as she tried to hide her real feelings of inadequacy from her dad.
She was over apologetic right away about missing breakfast with him. Joe just waved this off as not really important and motioned for her to sit by the kitchen counter.
"Lisa let me make you breakfast instead. You're going to need something to keep you going today," He chimed, trying to sound supportive as he picked up the fallen letter and walked back to the kitchen.
"Why do you sound so worried dad?"Lisa smiled back at him.
With much hesitation Joe handed Lisa the letter to read.
"Oh?" Lisa exclaimed, as she stared at the impressive letterhead and government seal at the top of the page.
"How patriotic looking." she laughed and then went silent as she began to read the first paragraph.
Lisa looked up anxiously at her dad. "They're sending a car to take us to the airport? We're being flown to Virginia? We must attend or we will face prosecution? There are pending indictments? Prison? Dad, what is this?" Lisa gasped, as she dropped the letter on the counter and held her hands to her mouth to stifle a scream. Her eyes were wild with disbelief and confusion.
"Oh dad," Lisa cried, as Joe came to her side and held her in his arms. "What's happening?"
"I don't understand it either sweetie." Joe replied, trying to sooth her, "There's a number it says we have to call. But I'm going to call George first."
"Who's George?" Lisa squeaked, in a half choking half crying voice.
"He's my attorney, this is serious, dear." He replied as he reached for the phone.