I Want

Five hours and eighteen minutes, to be exact.

Three hours longer than she said she would be. I was beyond worry, if one can be. I’d tried the cell phone repeatedly without luck. If I wasn’t the only adult in the house I would have gone looking for her. However, I was responsible for three sleeping children, and couldn’t leave. I hovered by the window, vigilant for a flash of headlights or the crunch of gravel under tires. Long after the store had closed, Sherry still hadn’t returned.

I spent a sleepless night pacing through the house, wondering what I would tell the kids when the sun woke them. By the time the first rays peeked above the trees, my heart knew something was wrong. So I cleaned myself up, and called a friend. She took the day off work and arrived before the kids woke up. We worked out an explanation for the children, and I went off in search of my wife. I directed the cab driver to the store Sherry had said she’d be going to, and watched familiar streets pass by the window. I never suspected for a second that she had left me. We’d been together four years, and I knew she was happy. She would come home from work and cuddle with our children before puttering around the house. We would have impromptu picnics on the living room floor, and sometimes make love in front of the fireplace after the kids were fast asleep. We disagreed over some things, as did any couple. But our disagreements never got in the way of our relationship. She wasn’t a Martha Stewart wannabe on the domestic front, but she was a clean person, and I didn’t want to sleep with Martha anyway.

I spotted the van in the parking lot before the taxi had even turned off the road. I pointed it out to the driver and asked him to pull alongside. I got out and checked the exterior of the vehicle carefully. Nothing looked unusual. I paid the driver and he drove off to pick up his next fare. The inside of the van looked exactly as it had the afternoon prior, with the addition of a Tim Horton’s coffee cup. I had wanted to call the police since eleven o’clock the night before, but I knew they waited twenty-four hours to declare someone missing I felt my impatience bubble like coffee on a campfire, and I headed toward a nearby payphone.

Some time later I found myself sitting on a curb smoking, while an officer asked me questions.

No, there was no one else that she was attracted to. Yes, I had tried the cell phone. Yes, I expected her home when she said she would be. Yes, she had been late before, but she always called. No, we were not in financial trouble. She had no enemies that I was aware of.

The questions went on and on.

I had no idea where she might have been. A young looking police officer had just handed me a cup of coffee when the radio at his hip squawked. I couldn’t make out the words because he turned away, but a minute later his partner came and sat on the curb beside me. She lit a cigarette of her own and sighed. I’ll never forget what she asked me while we sat and smoked.

“Have you considered the possibility that she may have met with an accident?”

I nodded, but I don’t think I wanted to accept her implication. I wasn’t ready.

So we sat there and smoked in silence. I could tell she expected the worst.

When her partner turned around, he motioned to her. She got up and crushed out her cigarette, then went to confer with him.

I heard her say something about a hospital and Sherry; but the rest of it is a blur now. I vaguely remember passing through silent hallways, seeing strange faces and hearing the two officers whispering to each other. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I wasn’t sure where I was going and I sure as hell wasn’t ready for what came next. When I stepped into the room, I saw an indistinct shape under pale green sheets, but it was a shape unfamiliar to me. I stepped around the bed to get a glimpse of the face that was turned to the wall, and was shocked to see the bruised features of my wife. My gaze traveled along the sheet, and I’m sure it was then that my brain went on strike. It took me a minute to comprehend what I was seeing. Or not seeing.

A person expects certain things out of life. Regular meals, taxes, and one’s partner to look relatively consistent. I expected to see my wife reshape the sheet for approximately five feet; but after three feet, the sheet was flat. I could hear my mental faculties screech to a halt.

Wait … where were her legs?

As if I were expecting an optical illusion, I reached out to touch the bed. It was flat and empty. I felt my knees buckle and someone caught me. With my butt in a chair, I reached out to take Sherry’s hand. I wanted her to know I was there, and that I loved her. I couldn’t. Her arm was gone and the other was in a cast. I was unable to hold my wife’s hand, touch her hip or simply kiss her knuckles as I did when we courted.

I remember her doctor coming in to talk to me, but all I can recall clearly is the sorrow and pity on his face. I remember thinking he had given up hope.

I fell asleep in the chair beside her. I dreamed of the way her fingers felt against my skin, the way her legs felt wrapped around me and the feel of her brown hair laced through my fingers. I dreamed of the midnight swims we had shared, the way she rose from the water with moonlight glistening on her skin, and the time we took the kids on a snowshoe hike.

The droning of an alarm interrupted my dreams. I woke up confused and surprised by doctors and nurses running to her bedside. One of them took me to the other side of the room and left me there. Alone.

They tried desperately to bring her back to me, but my wife was gone.

The officer I had sat on the curb with came to see me yesterday. She told me I’d be getting out of here today. I hope that’s true. I think I can get through this, though I’m not sure how. She said that I’ve been declared safe to return to my family. So if you’ll remove this straight-jacket, I’ll go home now. I have to explain all this to the kids and find a way to get through the rest of my life without her.

Yes, I know how she came to be in the hospital. I hope that that guy finds himself put in with the general prison population, and strung up by his balls.

I want him to suffer as much as the kids and I will without her.

I want him to feel the same pain she did.

I want her to hold me again.

I want to rub her feet, hold her hand and laugh with her.

I want her back.

I want.