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for that loss was indescribable. He had turned to the alcohol to numb his pain and when that idiot had opened his mouth that night, James hadn’t been able to control himself. The guy ended up with a split lip and a bump on the back of his head where he’d fallen back into the bar and James ended up spending a night in jail. He would have spent more nights there, many more if they had convicted him of murdering his own son. That may have happened had it not been for the inspector in charge of the judicial inquiry. The man saved him that fate by refusing to draw any hasty conclusions as the rest of the police force and the town had done.
    James was suddenly shaken back to reality by the high pitched wail of the rain. It sounded like a siren, using her beautiful voice to lure a sailor to his doom. He got up from the chair and reached for his jacket just as another jagged bolt of lightning tore through the sky, effectively ripping it in half. He pulled the jacket off the hook it hung on and the car keys fell out of the pocket. He put on the jacket, picked up the keys and at last headed for the exit.
    James made his way to the exit door taking note that the hospital seemed to be operating normally, unlike the shambles it had been in his dream. He shivered when he remembered his nightmares and did his best to tuck that memory away in the far recesses of his brain. He hit the door at the end of the hall and began to descend the stairs; his long legs took them four at a time. When he reached the bottom floor and began to head towards the outer doors he caught sight of a small red tricycle slowly inching towards him. He stopped, riveted by the sight. It continued its gentle forward motion until it was a few feet in front of him and then it stopped. James moved towards it as if in a trance. It was Thomas’s tricycle…it had belonged to his son…His chest suddenly felt heavy again and he reached out and put his hand on the handle bars. All at once there was another blinding flash and James was back in his home. The one he had shared with Thomas and Sarah.
    He was standing in the living room. Just a short time ago this room, the whole house had been filled with Sarah’s decorating charms and the happy sounds of a child playing. It was a place that James craved when he was away and hesitated to leave when he was home. Now, it was nothing but a constant reminder of all that he’d lost. Everything was empty, packed in boxes and waiting out near the fireplace to be picked up by the movers. Even before the things had been packed away, it had been empty. Without Sarah and Thomas it was like a wooden and stucco shell.
    James could hear the lonely patter of the rain on the shingle roof. He turned away from the agony of the void that used to be his family’s home and went out on the front porch. The water from the rain was running swiftly down the gutter making a soft metallic sound. It was the only sound on the empty street. There wasn’t even a single car in sight.
    James sat down and opened his bottle of bourbon and lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag off the cigarette and a drink of the bourbon straight from the bottle. He sat the bottle down and the corner of his eye caught sight of a dark shape on the left side of the courtyard. James stood up and leaving the shelter of the porch he stepped down the two steps into the pouring rain. He didn’t have to extinguish his cigarette; the rain took care of that for him. Tossing it aside, he made his way deeper into the garden. He couldn’t see anything except the plants and flowers that Sarah had so lovingly cared for now hanging limply from their bushes, trees or stalks. He made his way to the fence where he had seen the shape disappear, and he jumped over it. He could see the strange shape once again. The back of the house faced a wooded area and James followed the shape into the depths of the cold, dark space enclosed by large natural umbrellas made of thick tree branches and leaves.