The Greener Field

Night Sounds

That afternoon with some difficulty Sarah went out shopping for some groceries at the neighborhood market—mostly health food, for which the little store was known. She managed also to fill her car up with gasoline, preparing for the routine of work to begin the next morning. All the while, she kept her smartphone close by, fully expecting that by the evening she would hear from Jess. When the phone suddenly did ring, just as she was pulling her car into the secured parking garage below her apartment, she looked with anticipation at the small screen. It was instead her mother.

"Yeah, mom. I'm fine. If that's what you're wondering . . . Just did some shopping for tomorrow."

"Well that's fine Sarah . . . so . . .are you ready now to tell me what happened in England? Why you rushed home?"

"Mom, it's not something I want to discuss. OK?  I'm a big girl, remember? And I'll get over it."

"So did something happen between you and Jess? Because you know  . . ."

"I told you, mom!  Don't want to talk about it! It's just that . . . men are real jerks and that's it. No more to say."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry. Maybe you should just . . ."

Maybe I should just park the car, mom!  Get something to eat . . . and get ready for work tomorrow!"

"Alright Sarah. So did you call them at work? Tell them you're coming back early?"

"Yes, mom. That's all been taken care of."

"And . . . did you at least have a good talk with Carrie, your friend?"

"Yeah, we had dinner last night. She made me feel better. Now mom . . . I really have to go, OK?"

"Alright, darling. You know if you need . . . "

"I totally know mom. We'll talk again soon. OK?"

"Promise?"

"What do you think?"

"OK Sarah. Take care."

"Yup."

She closed the phone and continued maneuvering her car into her designated space. Struggling to carry the three bags of groceries to the elevator, she activated it and felt more relieved when the small lift brought into view her front door. Entering her home with a combination of numeric keys next to the door, Sarah turned on the lights as the windy afternoon had morphed into a blustery early evening. She could see the trees swaying in the dark and foggy atmosphere out the back windows. Placing the bags in the kitchen and turning on more lights, she quickly went over and looked more intently out the window at the line of dancing trees. They were blowing violently in the wind, obviously the result of a tropical storm which can come up unexpectedly from Mexico.

As she tightly closed the drapes, Sarah was suddenly reminded of when she was a girl of twelve. After watching a thriller about a serial killer on television one night with her cousins, she had serious difficulty sleeping for weeks. She remembered not wanting to be alone at night and had to have the lights on in her bedroom in order to feel safe each of those long nights. It angered her that she felt this way again, now in her mid-twenties. She passed into the spare bedroom she used as a study, and switched on her laptop computer to check her emails. Perhaps that was the way Jess would contact her, she thought. But once again, there was no sign that he was attempting to reach her following her frenetic flight home from England.