“Dang! Guess I missed it.” Herbert rushed to the window to see the car going by, as he had already done several times. It was late at night. He couldn’t sleep. The television was broken. Herbert was bored. And lonesome.
How did it ever come to this? I still love her. Why did I have to do that? That young woman, that little tart, showed some interest, and I fell for it. I thought it would make me feel young again. No such thing. My guilt was too much, so I told her. And she left. That very night. Didn’t even say goodbye. Didn’t even take her stuff.
Where is she? Hope she’s OK. Hope she didn’t do anything drastic. She’s been kind of sad for a while. Oh God! What if I’ve driven her … what if she … I can’t think about it. I can’t go look for her. She took the car. She wiped out our bank account. I’m broke until the next check comes in. That’s a couple of weeks away.
Herbert sat on the couch by the window, ready to jump up again if he heard a car outside. After a few moments, he got up, grabbed the phone, and tried her number one more time. No answer. No dial tone either; he didn't even notice, didn’t even remember his wife had no cell phone.
Maybe I need to call the police. But what would I tell them? She isn’t missing. She left me. But she may have come to some harm. I’ll tell them she was kidnapped. Then they’ll look for her. I’ll say that the kidnappers called and asked for a million dollars. And I ain’t got it. Said if I ain't got the money by noon today, I'll never see her again. Then they’ll go.
But she’s got the car.
I know. I’ll say she was getting out of the car and five big ugly guys all dressed in clown suits grabbed her, threw her back in the car and drove off. I saw that on the TV, so I know it happens. That’ll make them do something.
Herbert began to dial 911. He still did not notice the lack of a dial tone on the old rotary phone that hung on the wall, just a piece of decoration his wife found in an antique store. As he dialed, he saw flashing lights through the window. He ran to the window and peered out through the blinds. It was a patrol car from the town Police Department.
Maybe they found her and brought her back to me. There’s three people in the car. It’s too dark to see out there but maybe one of them is her.
Three figures got out of the car, one was a patrolman. They walked to the front door. The patrolman rang the doorbell.
This isn’t right. They don’t have her. Why are they out there? Something awful must’ve happened. She’s done it and they’ve come to tell me the sad news. That’s the way they do it on TV. They’re gonna say something like “we are sorry to inform you.” And then they’re gonna tell me she killed herself. I can’t take it. This can’t be happening to me.
Although he wanted to run out the back, Herbert got up his courage and went to the door, trembling with fear.
He turned on the porch light and opened the front door. Another patrol car with flashing lights pulled up and parked behind the first.
At the door, standing behind the policeman was two men wearing all white clothing, one who looked vaguely familiar.
“Mr. Blackthorn. Are you Herbert Blackthorn?” The police officer was young, and a little nervous. His right hand stayed near the pistol at his side.
“Yes I am. Have you found my wife? Is she OK?”
“Herbert. Remember me? I’m Jim. We told you to not leave your room. You’ve caused us a lot of trouble tonight. But that’s OK. We need to get you back to the Center.”
“I’ll come with you. I just need to know if you found my wife. I’m worried about her.”
With one quick move, the two men in white grabbed Herbert and held him while the officer handcuffed his hands behind him. Moments later, Herbert and the two hospital attendees were in the backseat of the patrol car, headed back to Mental Hill Hospital.
“I haven’t caused you any trouble. I’m coming willingly. Please tell me about my wife. Is she OK?”
“Herbert, you have forgotten again. Your wife died five years ago. You thought she was cheating on you, and you … and she died.”
“No. That’s not true. She left me because I cheated on her and then told her about it. I couldn’t hurt her. I love her. She’ll come back. Someday, she’ll come back. And everything will be OK.”
Herbert was getting uneasy, beginning to thrash around in the backseat. The attendants struggled to hold him down.
“Let me go. I’ve got to find my wife. She needs me.” Herbert saw what was about to happen. “Keep that thing away from me. Stop that. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all.”
One of the attendants quickly gave him a shot of medication to calm him down. Herbert went limp.
From the front seat, the young officer said, “Thank you guys for taking care of that. I thought I was gonna have to pull over and help. What really happened to his wife?”
“It’s a sad story. He got fired from his job and kind of went crazy, I guess. Started beating on his wife. She complained to the police but would never follow up to have him arrested. She finally died from one of his beatings. He couldn’t figure out how to get rid of her body and so he … if you don’t mind, I’d rather not tell the rest of that story. It’s too gruesome.”
The other attendant offered a little more. “The way I heard it, he was captured and tortured in the war, but somehow managed to escape. He returned home to his wife, stayed in therapy for a long time, but never got better. Couldn’t hold a job for long. He was a broken man. Guess it didn’t take much to set him off.”
“Somehow, he’s put all that out of his mind, including what he did to his wife. I guess it’s good no one wants to buy his old house. What would’ve happened if someone else was living there when he arrived tonight. Terrible things were done to him in that war. He did terrible things when he got home. Now, all this left for him is the psych ward. His brain could not handle what happened. He will always be insane.”