And The Sea Called Her Name by Joe Hart Read Free Book Online

Always hope.
    I climbed into the truck as the first drops
of rain cascaded down from the burgeoning clouds that had expanded
from horizon to horizon. A small tree branch clattered across the
pickup’s hood and skittered away down the sidewalk as several
people caught in the gale hurried with hands held above their heads
or tugging at coat collars.
    I drew out my phone and pulled up the
clinic’s number before putting the truck in gear, windshield wipers
sliding swaths of rain aside as I steered into the lane leading out
of town. A voice answered after two rings and I asked for Megan
Teller’s extension. The line was silent while I was transferred and
I leaned forward, turning on the defrost to dispel the fog
obscuring the windshield. I made a right turn and then I was on
Route One heading north away from the city.
    “This is Megan.”
    I was planning on leaving a message telling
Megan to see if she could schedule an MRI that day or as soon as
possible, so when she answered I was surprised and delighted.
    “Megan, it’s Jason Kingsley.”
    “Jason, hi! How are you?”
    “Good, good. Say, I was wondering if you’d be
able to talk to Del’s doctor and see if you could schedule her for
an MRI. She’s been having some…issues lately and we’re a little
worried to be honest. I’ve got a referral too if you need one.”
    “Oh, sorry to hear that. I was actually going
to call her this week to see how the pregnancy was going.”
    A cold pick of ice slid slowly through my
stomach at the tone of her voice.
    “Well, the pregnancy’s going fine. I mean,
you were there at the ultrasound she had, right?”
    The resounding silence on the line made the
tightening fist in my chest clench harder. Please, God, no, no,
no.
    “Jason, I don’t know what to say. I thought
Del was going to another hospital. She hasn’t had an appointment
here since last year.”
     
    ~
     
    I’d never covered the miles between town and
our home as fast as I did that day. Not even when I was seventeen,
racing my best friend Benny through the curves at night. Given the
fact that I was calling our house and Del’s cell phone in
succession the entire trip; it’s an absolute miracle that I didn’t
kill anyone on that twisty road.
    A low hum thrummed below the straining of the
truck’s engine, and I realized I was making the noise myself, deep
down in my chest where I hadn’t known it was possible for a person
to create sound. I took the last turn off the main road too fast
and the rear end of the pickup slewed to the side, raking gravel in
a fan that flew off into the ditch and rattled against a lone
mailbox at the end of the road. Then our drive was on my right, its
path splitting when the view opened to the sea. To the left was
Harold’s house, dark and quiet in the rain, and on the right was
ours, bright and shining.
    The frenzied animal in my chest calmed only a
fraction at seeing the lights. They might mean Del was okay, maybe
even up making a late breakfast for herself, but they did nothing
to explain the fact that she’d lied to me about both of her
checkups at Megan’s clinic. Why? But that was the question of the
hour, wasn’t it? Why was any of this happening to us?
    I slid the truck to a stop a couple feet from
our walk and didn’t bother to shut it off. The rain hammered my
back and head, its cold touch like dead, probing fingers. I yanked
the door open and was yelling her name before I cleared the
entry.
    No reply.
    I spun through the house in a fury, spending
only enough time in each room to be sure Del wasn’t anywhere within
before moving on. I half slid, half ran down the stairs from our
room, the last vestiges of hope evaporating with the knowledge that
she wasn’t in the house.
    I stopped in the kitchen, trying to think
through the whirlwind my mind had become. Where? Where would she
go? Immediately I ran for the door, rushing through the rain to the
edge of our yard. I leapt onto the highest rock I could see,