The Sunset Witness (8 page)

It seemed I'd not be getting any information until
Monday at the earliest, so I left downtown Hoquarten and drove until I found a
Fred Meyer grocery and drug store.  I needed everything, so my cart was almost
overflowing by the time I unloaded it into my trunk.  I was too hungry to wait
for lunch, so I pulled into the lot of the local diner, ordered one of those
truck driver breakfasts Twyla thought so little of, and hoped no one I knew
would see me eating there.  The diner was not busy, so I took my time over
brunch to give Sarah time to call me back.  Before I left the parking lot, I
called her again.  I did not leave a message.

As I was driving north out of Hoquarten, I'd noticed
signs advising I was leaving the tsunami hazard zone.  Once I was back in
Hoquarten and again when I picked up the highway to Sunset, the warnings reappeared. 
The difference in elevation was not noticeable to me, but it must have been
significant enough to warrant the difference in signage.  I wondered if the
warnings had a negative impact on the beach economies.  If I'd known about the
Cascadia Subduction Zone before I left Arizona, I'd not have agreed to assume
Sarah's lease.

The Cascadia Subduction Zone is also known as the
Cascadia Fault and runs from Vancouver, Canada to northern California.  It
separates the Juan de Fuca and North American plates.  The Zone has the
potential to cause an earthquake of 9.0 or greater.  The last earthquake caused
by the Zone was in 1700.  After more than 300 years, another quake would not be
out of the question.  Tsunamis followed all previous earthquakes.

Perhaps the heightened awareness about tsunamis would
encourage people to stay in motels and hotels farther away from the beach. 
Those establishments might actually raise prices while the beachfront locations
would become less expensive and more accessible to those who did not believe
they were in danger.  On the other hand, I might have taken the warnings to
heart when everyone else simply ignored them.

If it were not for getting groceries cheaper than I
could in Sunset, the trip would have been a waste of time.  Hoquarten was a
typical small town and not a place I felt inclined to explore.  I was relieved
to find so many of the services I'd need and had not thought about until I saw
them.

I'd not return to Hoquarten to see Sarah.  I did not
feel the need to file a missing person report.  It would have been one thing if
I'd not heard from her at all, but she'd responded with an email the day
before.  I thought about her reply.  She thought it was a great idea for me to
drive to Hoquarten instead of her coming to Sunset.  She would be up early
unpacking.  I could get there whenever I wanted.  Possibly, Sarah's email had a
different meaning.  What if she were not in the area at all?  Of course she
would have thought it a great idea for me to go there instead of her driving to
Sunset.  Maybe she would be up early unpacking somewhere else.  It wouldn't
make any difference when I arrived in Hoquarten.  That scenario didn't make any
sense.  Why would she send such a deceptive email?

I never would have moved to Sunset except Sarah was
going to be close.  My old friends had scattered to various corners of the
world.  Sarah and I remembered the same people, places, and events.  Our
friendship had survived the kind of blows that should have caused its demise. 
Perhaps she would have preferred that it had ended.  I chose to forgive and
forget.  My parents were proof that hate destroys the person who harbors it.

Still, I felt hurt and confused by the idea that
Sarah might have deceived me again.  There must be another explanation. 
Possibly her email account had been hacked and someone else was responding to
me.  Still, we'd not spoken by phone since I arrived.  She never was very good
about returning phone calls.  I'd been in Sunset for four days.  There should
have been some time when we would have connected.  Possibly, she did not want
to be confronted with my questions or to have her location compromised. 
Perhaps Detective Gannon was right.  Sarah might have been so terrified of the
man she saw in the parking lot that she was in hiding even from me.  I wasn't
comforted by the thought.  Had she put me in danger by luring me to the beach
house to protect herself?

By the time I arrived in Sunset, I was weary of
thinking about Sarah.  She was probably fine wherever she was, and I was stuck
with the mess she left behind.  The thought triggered painful memories.

Nate had dreamed of moving to Montana after his
family visited Glacier National Park when we were in high school.  By the time
we graduated, Nate and I'd become inseparable.  We'd applied to the University
of Montana and were accepted.  When we weren't studying or in class, we were
outdoors.  I was never athletic, but Nate and I regularly hiked to the
M
on the hill above Missoula when we didn't have time to go farther.  On longer
trips, we camped and hiked on trails all over western Montana.

We were supposed to work in Glacier together during
the summer between our freshman and sophomore years.  Instead, he stayed in
Missoula.  I worked in Glacier as a dining room attendant.  I was never sure
why Nate started drinking too much, but I always wondered if it started after
his nineteenth birthday.

He seemed all right when I left for Glacier.  I
arranged to switch weekends with another attendant so I could surprise Nate for
his birthday.  I bought his favorite cake at Bernice's Bakery in Missoula.  When
I arrived at the house, he was gone.  The couple we shared the house with was
touring Europe for the summer.  Nate was never taught how to clean up after
himself.  I started cleaning the house and stripped the bed so we would have
fresh sheets while I was there.  Then I realized Nate had been with someone
else.  Even then, I felt partly to blame for spending the summer in Glacier.

I was packing to leave when he walked in with Sarah. 
He said he'd just picked her up at the airport.  I knew he was lying.  Aside
from her overnight bag, I'd found a small gold cross that must have been
separated from the chain when they were in bed together.  The necklace was my
gift to Sarah for her eighteenth birthday.  If I'd not found the cross and he'd
walked in alone, I could have forgiven Nate.  I calmly walked toward them on my
way out of the house.  I told Nate I hoped he'd enjoy his birthday cake.  Then
I took the cross from my pocket and gave it to Sarah.  I told her she might
want to take it off the next time she and Nate wrestled in bed.  I returned to
Glacier and then moved out of the house before Fall Semester.

By the time school started, Nate already was drinking
too much.  Friends told me Nate often cut classes to party or to recover from a
party.  He was drunk while he took his finals, and he failed most of his
courses.

Nate's parents intervened after he flunked out of
school.  By the following summer he'd stopped drinking and joined the army. 
The world was relatively peaceful, and Nate thought he might be a career
soldier.  Instead, he was sent to Afghanistan after the September 11 attack on
the twin towers.  Army life seemed to agree with him, though.  Perhaps, he
craved the discipline.  He stayed for more than one tour before he was blown up
by an improvised explosive device.  He once told me he might be a general like
Schwarzkopf.  Nate had a favorite Schwarzkopf quote, and he repeated it often:  "The
truth of the matter is that you always know the right thing to do. The hard
part is doing it."

After Nate's remains were lowered into the ground,
Sarah and I hugged each other and cried.  We'd not seen each other since Nate's
nineteenth birthday.  There was no time to talk after the funeral.  I had a
plane to catch back to Montana.  I was in my first month of my last year of law
school, and I was already overwhelmed.  I didn't see Sarah while I worked at my
father's firm.  She'd moved to Nevada.  She hadn't come back to Villanova for
my father's funeral.  I left for Europe shortly after.  Six years is a long
time in a friendship.  Were we still friends?

Fortunately, I had to keep busy.  Unloading and
finding places for all the groceries was time consuming.  I made room on the
shelf in my closet for extra toilet paper, Kleenex, and paper towels by
removing Sarah's pillow and sheets.  I stuffed the sheets inside the pillow
case so I could take them to the laundry.  I felt relieved.  I'd not see Sarah
again.  I was about to close the closet door, when I thought to check the
sheets for stains.  I pulled the fitted sheet out of the pillow case and spread
it out on the living room carpet.  For a moment, I was reliving the past.  I
realized I was crying when I heard someone pounding on my door.  I hurriedly
stuffed the sheet back inside the pillow case and wiped my eyes with my fingers
before I opened the door.

The scruffy-looking man I'd seen near the restrooms
my first day in Sunset was in my face.  He'd not shaved, and he needed a shower
and clean clothes.  He was asking for help to get back to Portland.  He'd been robbed
of what little money he had.  I told him I had only a dollar and some change
and that I never keep cash on me.  He said the dollar would help.  My purse was
still sitting on the drop leaf table, so I dug for my wallet and found a dollar
bill.  The man had entered the kitchen and was right behind me when I turned
around.  I gasped and shoved the dollar at him, telling him I was sorry I
couldn't help.  He looked at me and said he was sorry he caught me at a bad
time.  I was embarrassed.  I knew he could tell I'd wiped tears away.  He was
still thanking me as I closed and locked the door.  I watched him walk down the
stairs and toward the entrance to the parking lot.  Then I went into the
bathroom and cried.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

When my alarm went off on Sunday morning, I hit the
snooze button and lay there thinking.  I know better than to cry, but every now
and then I need a good cry.  The aftermath always leaves me feeling drained and
lifeless.  My eyes suffer the most.  I'd worn my glasses to Twyla's Saturday
night to conceal the puffy lids and redness.  The extra makeup I'd worn left me
feeling overdone, like one of the customers.  Joel told me about her but I had
to see her for myself to fully appreciate how accurate his description was. 
The furrows in her face and bags under her eyes were accentuated by the volume
of foundation and powder she'd used to conceal them.  I hoped no one at the
restaurant was laughing at me behind my back Saturday night.

Joel had asked if I enjoyed my visit with Sarah.  I
told him I never found her.  He said he didn't have an address for her because
she told him she was going back to Pennsylvania.  I asked him if he'd talked to
her lately.  He'd talked to her Friday.  He gave her a hard time because I had
to postpone sightseeing Saturday with Michael until Sunday.  Joel was surprised
Sarah didn't call me back.

I'd planned to tell Joel something came up and I
couldn't make it on Sunday.  I was in no mood to have my heart broken again. 
The first thing out of Joel's mouth when he saw me was, "Michael is really
looking forward to Sunday."  I pretended I was, too.

While we waited for our first customer, Joel and I
brought each other up to date on our histories.  I wondered what attracted Joel
to Sunset.  He lived on the surf, and Sunset was known for having great surf. 
He ran out of money at the same time Twyla needed a server.  I was surprised to
learn there were apartments on the hill above Sunset.  Joel shared a
two-bedroom with a friend who worked in Hoquarten.  The friend was touring
Europe, so Joel invited Michael to stay with him for the summer.  They'd met at
the university in Las Vegas.  Joel's childhood best friend died suddenly, and
Joel decided to put his education on hold and live a little.  Joel was raised
in Portland.  After his father died, his mother moved to Las Vegas and then to
the east coast when she remarried.  Joel said he'd never leave the Pacific
Northwest.

The alarm woke me after I'd drifted off to sleep
again.  After a long shower and three mugs of coffee, I started feeling as if I
could join the human race again.  Joel had told me not to dress up, so I wore
jeans, a Beatles t-shirt I'd purchased in London, and sneakers.  We'd be
outside seeing the sights, so I'd have my yellow hoody with me.  I transferred
the essentials from my purse to the bum bag that I'd also bought in London. 
While I waited for Joel, Breanna, and Michael to arrive, I answered email and
tried not to notice there was nothing from Sarah.

I heard a vehicle and shut down my laptop.  I was surprised
to see Michael standing alone on the porch.  He told me Breanna was in an
accident on the way back to Hoquarten Saturday night.  Michael asked if I still
wanted to go out.  I could have said I thought we should wait for Joel, because
I had no idea where he planned to take us.  Or I could have suggested we go to
the hospital to see Breanna.  However, the chemistry between Breanna and me was
not great.  I was sorry she was hurt, but I knew she would not have expected me
to go to the hospital.

In spite of my vow never to fall in love again, I was
glad fate had thrown Michael and me together, and we'd be alone for the entire
day.

Michael had backed into the spot in front of the
beach house.  When I saw the black Lexus, I wondered what he did for a living and
was sorry I hadn't asked Joel for more information.  I decided not to comment
on the car.  It might be a rental.  If he actually drove a dented, older car
with peeling paint, he'd be sure I broke up with him because of it.  The Lexus
smelled new.  I was surprised when Michael asked what I thought of it.  I said
it was very luxurious.  He waited for me to say more.  Then he told me a woman
in Las Vegas refused to go out with him when she saw he was driving a car made
in Japan.  I told him I drove a Camry assembled in the U.S. with parts made in
Japan.  I liked the fact that people in Kentucky had jobs assembling the Camry.