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punched Stephanie in the
gut at that exact moment, she wouldn’t have been more jarred.
    That evening she waited up for him. He was
late, as usual. She sat on the couch long past midnight. The
bastard didn’t even have the courtesy to call to say he’d be late.
No one answered at the office. Cell phones which were really a new
thing then, were a status symbol, and that being the case, Mr.
Michael had one. She’d been asleep when he’d finally come home. He
didn’t wake her. When she awoke the next morning, he’d cooked
breakfast. Her favorite, omelets. She hadn’t mentioned the condom
package. She went to the doctor that afternoon and walked out with
a prescription for Prozac. And the rest, as they say, is
history.
    She pulled two of the bottles from the desk,
popped the top and shook a few pills into her hand. Dry swallowing
them, she took five minutes to compose herself. Then she stood.
After all, she had to drive Christal to school. No child of hers
would be riding the bus.

     
     
     
Five
     
     
     
    He could’ve worn a tie, but in the end
decided against it. This wasn’t New York or Chicago. It was
Benedict, Mississippi. A podunk town in a podunk state. Sure, years
ago this seemed like the center of the universe to him. But things
do change, don’t they. They certainly did for him.
    His name was Jerry Garrett, Jerry being short
for Jerusalem. A unique name and doubly odd since his parents had
not been at all religious. As far back as he could remember his
father had been the only one to call him Jerusalem. Now that he was
grown nobody called him that.
    The rental was comfortable and since the
afternoon had warmed, Jerry turned the air conditioner on low. An
oldies station played softly as he navigated his way through the
streets. Once, he’d known them like the back of his hand, but time
had caused a bit of fog to form on his memories. Still, more came
back than one might expect and he enjoyed the drive from the
motel.
    Driving was a singular joy. The ability to
attain such speeds was a wonderful sensation of freedom that few
things could ever equal. From the normal walking speed of four
miles per hour, an automobile could take you twenty-five to fifty
times that. All in easy comfort and absolute control. Freedom with
a safety harness.
    Jerry found the building he’d been searching
for. He couldn’t recall the place when he’d learned the address and
thus, had to keep a keen eye out as he traveled up the road.
Falklands Reality was situated in a four-story brick building
butted in between an attorney’s office and a loan company. The
place didn’t look especially fabulous, but Jerry was wise enough to
know that a large percentage of the charm of these downtown
buildings was their ancient feel.
    He pulled the car, a green Ford Taurus, into
a slot, thankful parallel parking was not required. Just like the
mind’s roadmap, driving skills grew rusty if not used for a time.
The first time he’d gotten behind a wheel in, well, almost twenty
years, he had broken out in a sweat before even turning the key
over in the ignition. He’d pulled onto the freeway and sailed up to
almost seventy-five. His butt hole had puckered so tightly he’d
walked funny for the rest of the day.
    But, as with everything else, Jerry had
adjusted.
    Now, stepping from the car onto the sidewalk,
Jerry felt much more confident than he had in a very long time.
Though he’d forgone the tie, he was dressed business casual: penny
loafers, starched and creased slacks, and a very nice shirt. His
slightly thinning black hair was recently barbered and had the look
of precision. Jerry’s walk was strong and sure. His demeanor was
purposeful. There was no way anyone would take him as not belonging
here. His only fear was that there was a chance someone might
recognize him.
    Recognition was good, just not quite yet.
    As he stepped up to the door of the realty
office, the door opened towards him and an old woman stepped
out.
    “Oh, excuse