GUILTY 15

CONTINUED FROM LAST NIGHT…. I know I should be grateful. I should be grateful that Danny is alive and breathing, and that we have a healthy baby girl. But so many other things are astray. I wish I could rewind time and prevent Danny from developing the psychosis. I don’t even know if there is a way to prevent it, but I’d dedicate my damn life to finding out how. No one should have to experience what we have gone through these past few months. It’s a tragedy, really. I’ve lost my wife. The old Danny, the woman I fell in love with. I hope she’s still in there, sheltered somewhere temporarily until the storm is over. I try to think positive and hope for the best, but right now, even that is difficult to reach for. No matter what I do, life just seems to be continuously going downhill and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’ve been going to Finniken’s Tap a few times a week after I finish work. It’s become a solace for me. Somewhere I can escape temporarily and avoid my problems. I know that’s wrong, avoiding the problems. It would be much healthier and efficient to solve the problem. But you see, I can’t do that right now. There is no solution to this problem, So until there is, I will come here to escape the pain, drinking away my sorrows. I won’t turn into an alcoholic, I can guarantee that. I have far too much control and autonomy over my life. I would never let it get that far. And even if I did catch myself slipping - even just the slightest - I would bring myself back. I need to be there for Emerald. I won’t destroy my life like that. This is just a break. It’s what I need right now. It’s quarter - past - six when I glance at the clock and decide I should probably head home. My weekly routing has consisted of coming to Finniken’s, getting a couple of drinks, staying for an hour or so, then going home. Danny hasn’t even questioned my whereabouts. Not that I’m hiding this from her, but I’d prefer if she didn’t know. She’d worry - think I was giving up on her. She’s already going through enough, I couldn’t put her through more. But to be honest, I think she’s too caught up in her own distress to even wonder about mine, or even consider why I’m coming home an hour later than usual each night. I’ve been telling her it’s work stuff. That Terry has been asking me to cover some new patients for her. Danny simply shrugs my words off like it’s nothing. As long as I come home at the end of the night, that’s the only thing she cares about. Doctor Kelvin has been a huge help. I can’t thank him enough for all that he’s done. I just wish he had an instant cure for Danny so that things could go back to how they were before. But these things take time. And sitting here wishing for a miracle isn’t going to make one appear. I avert my eyes from the clock and Focus on my glass, lifting it to my lips and finishing off the remaining contents. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and the door chimes, signalling someone has entered the bar. I turn my head slightly to get a brief glimpse of the person walking in. It’s a woman who’s caught my eye. She’s stunning, really. Tall and slim, walks with a beat in her step. Thick hair a shade of raven black flows over her burgundy trench coat, and I wonder what she wears underneath - considering her legs are bare - accompanied by black heels. Must be a dress or skirt. A formal outfit, perhaps. My eyes drift upwards to her face. Her eyes are straight ahead, focused. She’s walking to the bar. Her skin is a smooth bronze, despite the fact it’s winter. Her eyes are piercing blue gems and above them, thick black lashes, but just enough to accentuate the plump shape. I shouldn’t be looking at her. I never look at other women. But something about her is so striking, alluring. The way she keeps her eyes focused as she walks, eventually sitting at the bar a few seats down from me. I won’t look anymore, I decide. I can’t. I feel guilty even just thinking about looking. I have a wife. I love my wife. I will not look at other women. I continue with my plan to leave. I stand and grab my coat that hangs over the bar stool. The bartender returns, a polite woman named Maggie who I’ve grown accustomed to over my past few visits here. ’Where ya goin?’ she says to me as she places the glasses in her hand onto the counter. ‘I should probably head out now.’ “But the game’s almost over. At least wait until it’s done,’ she protests. ‘Fine.’ The words leave my mouth before I realize what I’m saying. Then I’m sitting back down again, removing my jacket. ‘Another rum and Coke?’ Maggie asks, grabbing a glass from behind her. ‘Sure. Why not.’ I force a smile. I turn my head, trying to sneak the slightest glance at the woman. I start at her heels, slowing making my way up her body. When my eyes finally travel towards her face, I discover that she’s staring directly at me. I snap my head forward again, pretending it never happened. As though we didn’t just lock eyes for a split second. Maggie fills the glass halfway then slides it over to me. ‘Thanks,’ I mutter, and hold the glass to my lips. This is the last one. Then I’ll go. I turn my eyes towards the screen and focus on the game. It’s football. I’ve never been a fan, but I have nothing else to do while I finish my drink, so I watch. ‘They’re doing awful tonight,’ I hear a voice say. I turn my head to the left to see that the woman has inched her way a few seats closer to me. There’s only one empty chair between us. I’m confused at first. She Can’t be talking to me. Her eyes are locked on the screen, so I can’t tell. As if reading my thoughts, she turns and looks at me, awaiting an answer. ‘Who?’ is the only thing I manage to say. ‘The Chiefs. They better get their shit together or they’ll get eaten alive out there.’ Football, She’s talking about Football. ‘Yeah.,’ ‘You a Chiefs fan?’ she asks, taking a sip of her drink. ‘No, I don’t really watch sports. It’s entertaining, though. Something to keep my eyes on.’ ‘Oh, Shame, Soccer is like religion to me. My Dad was a fanatic when I was growing up. We never missed a game.’ I smile slightly and nod my head. I’m terrible at small talk. Especially when it comes to women whom I don’t normally speak to. Women who aren’t my wife. My thoughts wander and I can’t help but question why she is speaking with me. I’m a good looking guy. Perhaps she’s bored, wants some company. A woman that striking has to be taken. So what does she want with me? ‘You from around here?’ she says, starting up conversation once again. ‘Yeah, for a few years now. I grew up in Jhburg.’ ‘A Jhburg native, is that so?’ “Mhmm,’ I nod. ‘Born and raised.’ ‘What made you decide to come out here?’ ‘Change of scenery, I guess.’ ‘It’s nice out here. Quiet and peaceful. I used to live in the city as well.’ ‘You did? Where about?’ I ask. ‘South Side. Near Avalon Park.’ ‘You Don’t say? I’m from Hyde Park.’ ‘I had a good friend who was from there. I’m surprised we’ve never run into each other.’ I laugh slightly and take another sip from my drink. ‘What’s your name?’ she asks, staring at me with eyes of intrigue. ‘Winston,’ I say. ‘And you are?’ She smiles, tilts her head to the side slightly. ‘Rosie…’ --------- AFTER Danniella Waters Saturday May 20,2016 Day three. The second morning I’ve had to wake up with the weight of the world pressing down on my chest. And absence that prevents the air from entering my lungs. Thirty - eight hours. Emerald has officially been missing for thirty - eight hours. Why haven’t the police found her yet? Isn’t this their job? To find missing children? And apparently the longer that she is missing, the guiltier I’m looking. When it was solely Winston’s accusations, it was difficult, yes, but I could handle it. But now with practically the entire task - force keeping their watchful eyes on me, even Gerald having his doubts, I can’t help but feel scared and hopeless. I did not kill my daughter. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Soon enough they will find whoever did this and my name will be cleared. Emerald will be back home with us and all rights will be restored. The truth will reveal itself soon enough. I just hope it’s sooner than later. My mind is still swarming with questions that don’t have answers. Who took Emerald? Who would want to take her? They’ve officially searched all of the Mendozas’ properties and have crossed them off the list. I didn’t think they were responsible, anyway. They’re good people, Marcia and her husband. Whoever took Emerald must have done it for money. Why else would someone take my baby? But that begs the question: if someone did take her to get money from us, why haven’t we received a ransom call?…. TO BE CONTINUED….