The Greener Field

The Threat

The next day, Sarah returned to Bresner's Speech and Language Clinic for work. Her first clients were mid-morning and after attending to some domestic duties, she arrived at eleven o'clock for her scheduled appointments. Katie the secretary warned her she would face a barrage of questions about her trip to England. Several of the other therapists had spoken of nothing else since she left and now wanted details about her new love interest in Europe. This was expected by Sarah, but she was more concerned to learn of an "urgent" call earlier that morning from someone asking for her personally. Knowing that Jess had told her the night before that he was already in California, and by now certainly in the San Diego vicinity, she was nervous and apprehensive about the call..

"So . . . did they identify themselves?" she asked Katie, grabbing a quick cup of coffee and a stack of client files from the back room.

"Well, that's what was strange, Sarah. He had no appointment . . . nothing to do with us actually. He just wanted to contact you . . . he said ASAP."

"And no name? No number?"

"Nope. But a really strong British accent. And he sounded kind of . . . old, actually."

These descriptors hit Sarah with a jolt of fear. She knew immediately it had to be Derek, from the country house outside London. If anyone had a serious reason to contact her now from there, it was him.

"Well, OK. I knew he couldn't be your sweetie, Sarah. He would have had your cell."

"My . . . sweetie?"

Sarah knew she may have given away too much about her trip earlier, simply by the way Katie responded.

"Oh.  . . so there's trouble in paradise now?"

"Katie . . . please."

"OK. Sorry. Well, best not to give anything of that to the sharks here this morning. They're waiting to devour you for information about London and . . . you know . . . your new guy. But now I guess, the reason you came back early."

"Jesus!  What time is the Velasquez boy this morning? And thanks, Katie . . . for updating my schedule."

"No problem, Kiddo . . . Yup. I can see on the CCTV your little Roberto is already here with his mom."

"Great. Never thought I'd be so glad to see him. . . OK, I'm there."

With this, Sarah selected the cumulative file on her young client and headed out to the waiting room. There she put on a smile and with some effort greeted the boy's mother. She then led her son to one of the auxiliary therapy cubicles for his hour-long session.

The whole hour, while presenting the boy photo prompts of objects and scenes which addressed his particular annunciation issue—and following up with her own  verbal reinforcements, Sarah was inside tremendously worried. Worried how much the creep Derek knew of her and Jess' discussion. How she was prepared to go to the authorities over the whole affair.

For though she was still not able to totally divorce Jess from the perverted deed Derek had set up—as Jess had wanted her to believe, this bizarre and eccentric man was a much more sinister character in her mind. She had absolutely no history with him and could only wonder how truly dangerous he could be if cornered by the police.

Finishing up with the young Roberto, and leading him out of the session, she could only think about the dreadful night before--sitting alone on the floor in total fear of Jess and not knowing if he might threaten her or worse with his unexpected presence. Her safety and mental well-being had suddenly become a key issue to her present life.

She had four other appointments that day, and one late afternoon Speech and Language assessment with a young girl before ending her day. Each time she asked Katie if the stranger had called back. And each time the secretary, busily engaged in paperwork just shook her head. By early evening, after Sarah had written up all her reports, she felt somewhat relieved that she had remained busy and isolated, totally avoiding her colleague's prying questions.

As she and Katie were the last to leave the clinic, they walked out of the building together into the dusky light. Standing in front of the entry way, before they left for their cars parked on different streets, Katie reached over and placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder affectionately.

"Look, Sarah . . . I know you might be going through something pretty heavy right now. You're a real sweetheart and . . . well . . . whatever it is, you probably didn't deserve it. Just know I'm always here, OK?"

Sarah was suddenly overcome by outpouring of concern. She uncontrollably hugged Katie and fought back the tears she knew would start falling soon enough when she got home that evening.

"Thanks, Katie. Thanks so much for that."

"Don't ever be afraid to open up about it with me. I've heard and seen everything. I'm not like the others in there. You can trust me with your biggest problems, OK?"

"Alright," she said drying he eyes. Maybe later . . . one evening we'll talk. I guess I could use some advice about this."

"Anytime, sweetie. You've got my cellphone. Now go home and have some hot tea and a bath. Watch a funny movie. That's always worked for me."

Sarah smiled at the silly remedy.

"OK, Katie, I'll do that. Thanks again."

The two parted in the semidarkness and each walked in the direction of their cars. As Katie got to hers first, Sarah watched as the white VW Golf pulled out onto the quiet street and disappeared around the corner. When Sarah approached her own vehicle she could see there appeared to be something left on the windshield.

As she got closer she could see it was not a paper of any kind, but something thicker and heavier. Closer still, and to her ultimate horror, she realized that what someone had left on her car—for her not to miss as a telling message, was a headless and lifeless cat.

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