This is My Message to
You
He knew
everything was going to be okay when he saw the folded note underneath his
wiper, after work. It’d been over two years since they’d spoken, made contact,
seen each other, except for the time they met eyes at the gas station. But he
could tell by the imperfect fold of the note that it was from her, and he knew she
wouldn’t leave another note unless it was to tell him everything was going to
be okay.
He slipped
it in his pocket and drove halfway home to his wife and the kid, but he didn’t
want to. He knew his wife would be irritated if he chose to hike instead of
come home for dinner, but he also knew he could do whatever he wanted. He often
wished he didn’t know that.
He sent a
message home, turned around and drove to the state park where they used to hike,
the park he’d never taken his wife to. He pulled in at the usual trailhead—the
trail of tears, they’d named it—and sat and watched three birds land on the
trail marker, then got his boots out of his trunk. He reached inside his
pocket, fingered all around the note until it felt as soft as a handkerchief,
then took it out still folded, and slipped it securely back under his wiper.
After his hike, it was gone.
CP
Vallie
Lynn Watson's debut novel, A River So Long, was published by
Luminis Books in 2012. Her Pushcart-nominated work appears in PANK, decomP, Gargoyle, and dozens of
other magazines. Receiving a PhD from the Center for Writers, she teaches at
UNC Wilmington and is the editor of Cape
Fear Review.
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