My Dark Places

31

It wasn’t enough. It was a momentary pause and a spark point. I had to know more. I had to honor my debt and pursue my claim. My will to look and learn was still strong and still perversely attuned. I was my father crouched outside my mother’s bedroom window.

I didn’t want it to end. I wouldn’t let it end. I didn’t want to lose her again.

King’s Row was just a window facing backward. The Swarthy Man was just a witness with a few memories. I was a detective with no official sanction and no evidential rules to restrict me. I could take implication and rumor and hold them as fact. I could travel her life at my own mental speed. I could linger at Tunnel City and El Monte and all points in between. I could grow old in my search. I could fear my own death. I could relive her Sundays at that church by the railroad tracks. They preached heavenly reunions there. I could learn to believe. I could write off my search with a godly dispensation and await the time we lock eyes on a cloud.

It won’t happen. She walked away from that church. She went to that church at gunpoint. She sat in her pew and dreamed. I know her well enough to state that as fact. I know myself well enough to state that I will never stop looking.

I will not let this end. I will not betray her or abandon her again.