Flashback Read online

  Linda Saxon was just finishing off the last of the paperwork that she seemed only to find time to do after the library was closed. The man stepped through the old dark oak double doors, causing long shadows to reach across the lobby to Linda’s desk. As everyone in town knew that the library closed at 5.30, she was startled by the unexpected visitor. With the low summer evening sun almost directly behind him, it gave the stranger an almost angelic aura. She couldn’t make out the man’s features but she could immediately tell that he was tall and broad. She realised she had been holding her breath. Regaining her composure and trying to sound as calm as possible, she asked, “Hello, can I help you?” The man took a large step forward as the heavy doors closed behind him, cutting off the outside light and stepping into the incandescent lights of the government building. She could now see that the man looked to be just a little older than Linda herself, she guessed he was early to mid-fifties. In the few seconds that it took the man to walk to Linda’s desk, she saw a strong, handsome face, the shape of his broad shoulders and the slight paunch of his stomach that amusingly disappeared as he came closer. And for some reason she didn’t yet understand, she knew that she liked him. The warm smile that started on his lips and crept up to his clear, blue-grey eyes melted away any apprehensions that Linda had initially felt towards the stranger.

  “Yes, er, I’m sorry, I guess you are closed but I was hoping you might be able to help me.”

  His warm, deep voice matched his easy-going manner and although almost ready to lock up and leave for home, the librarian felt compelled to answer positively.

  “Yes, of course, if I can. I’m Linda by the way, Linda Saxon.”

  The man’s smile widened as he stepped up to her desk and offered his hand.

  “Thank you so much Linda, my name is Ed, Ed Saunders, I am looking for some information, maybe from an old copy of a local newspaper.”

  As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior lighting, it was Ed’s turn to be taken aback. Life held few surprises anymore but he was not expecting the vision he saw standing behind the tall desk. The elderly relic with stiff grey hair and bifocals perched on a sharp nose that he had expected, was replaced by a tall, elegant woman in her late thirties or early forties. Long hair the colour of midnight framed proud features of high cheekbones, a strong jaw and high fore line. Her nose was straight but slightly flared at the end, her dark skin and matching dark brown eyes gave the librarian an almost Hispanic or Indian look. A single darker brown mole or beauty spot sat just above her full lips.

  “We have copies of every Ludlow newspaper going back a hundred years. Was there a particular event or date you were interested in?” she asked as she walked around from the main reception desk and over to a row of computers. As Ed followed Linda, he couldn’t help but notice the long shapely legs and slim figure wrapped in a tight black pencil skirt and seamed stockings.

  “Well?” she prompted as she sat down in front of one of the computer screens.

  “Oh, er, sorry, yes, the early sixties, anything you have on the disappearance of a little girl.”

  “Oh, you must mean Grace Benjamin! She disappeared in the summer of 1962”. Ed seemed surprised at how knowledgeable the librarian was on the subject. Linda caught the look on Ed’s face and explained, “When I first started here I had to scan all of the hard copies we have onto disc, her story was one of the few I remember because it was so sad, and her father still comes in here once in a while. She disappeared on her 11th birthday and was never seen again.”

  While the librarian searched the newspaper database, Ed took a quick look around the library. The dark oak doors appeared to be the only old fitting that remained; the rest of the library including the rows of bookshelves and high desk were all done in what he thought of as ‘modern cheap anonymous hotel’ style, the light faux-wood matching the laminate wood flooring. Linda tapped on the keyboard for several seconds then proudly pronounced, “Here we are, Monday, July 23rd 1962, it’s the front-page headline.” Ed leaned over the librarian to get a closer look at the computer screen, catching an intoxicating breath of the woman’s perfume. He thought of orange groves and fruit punch, he liked it. He glanced down at the screen and all thoughts of fruit orchards disappeared as he looked into the eyes of the little black girl from his dream. Although he had only seen her for a few moments, Ed was sure it was her. The picture of the little girl in the newspaper had been taken in happier times and showed a bright, smiling face, hugging her parents in a family snapshot. Ed’s stomach did a quick somersault as he muttered “God damn, how…….?

  “How what?” asked Linda. “Hey, are you okay, you look a little peakier than when you walked in.”

  “Can you blow this up, enlarge it?” he asked as he stared closer at the screen.

  “Of course, look”. Ed stared at the girl, making sure it was her, then realised he recognised the man standing next to the girl too. There was no mistaking him, he was looking at the black guy that had been getting a hard time from the teenagers outside of the malt shop in his first dream, and as Ed’s stomach did another somersault he also realised he was looking into the ageless eyes of the gas attendant. “That’s Buster!” he murmured.

  “Yes, that’s Buster Benjamin, he works at the gas station on Main, he’s Grace’s father. Look, what’s going on, why do you want to know about Grace Benjamin?”

  “Well, it’s hard to explain, and I doubt that you would believe me if I told you. Anyway, it looks like you were getting ready to head on home when I came in. I don’t want to hold you up any longer, your husband’s gonna come looking for you pretty soon.”

  The subtle enquiry about her marital status was not lost on Linda and her growing discomfort at the enquiries about the Benjamin disappearance withdrew a little. Trying to hide a smile she replied: “I wouldn’t worry about that too much, I’m my own boss, but I do have to get home and get supper ready for my son, Joshua”. The news that she had a son confirmed Ed’s suspicion that she was much too good looking to be single. He had instinctively checked her left hand for any rings while they had been talking at her desk and had seen none, but he also knew that not all married women wore wedding bands. More than a little disappointed, he said, “Okay, well look, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Is there any way that you can print this front page off for me so I can read it later? Then I’m out of here”.

  “Yes, I can do that, the printer is still turned on I think, let me check”. As she walked over to the next low table and leaned over the printer she asked, “So what are you doing in Ludlow? I know you’re not from around here. Are you just passing through?”

  “I could have just moved in.” he replied.

  “No, nobody just moves into Ludlow anymore, they only move out. It’s like a lot of other towns around here, it’s slowly dying”.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, we had two types of income around here; crops and the Air Force base just the other side of town. The end of the Cold War has closed the base, they have all moved to Dayton, and the crops are struggling. It used to be lush and green all around here but the summer’s get longer and drier, the winter’s shorter and less severe. The place is running out of water. Nobody wants to be a farmer, the population has dropped from over six thousand to under two.”

  “That explains the poster I saw when I came into town; ‘Would the last one to leave please turn out the lights?’”

  “Yes, that just about sums it up really”. She smiled at his humour then sat briefly back at the computer and typed in a command to print the current page. Across at the other desk, the printer whirred into life and quickly spat out the front page that they had looked at on screen using two pieces of A4 paper printed landscape plus the next page of the story. She walked over and retrieved the pages from the tray and held them out for him.

  “There you are Mr Saunders”.

  “Ed, please, and thank
you for this.”

  “So, why are you in Ludlow….Ed?” He liked the way his name came gently off her tongue. They were standing close to each other as he reached for the copy from her hands.

  “Computers, I sell computers to small businesses. I’m just finalising some deals around here before I head back home. Not very exciting I’m afraid.” She was staring directly into his eyes and he thought she seemed a little disappointed when he confirmed her suspicions about just passing through.

  “So where is home?” She enquired.

  “Originally New York but I live just outside of Cincinnati now.”

  “Oh, you’re a long way from home then. That makes me even more curious to know how come you are interested in the missing girl”.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll come back tomorrow and tell you about it, depending on what I find out in this newspaper article, okay? But really, I have kept you way too long Mrs Saxon.”

  “It’s Linda.” She let go of the paper and he folded it up and put it in his back pocket.

  “Thank you Mrs Sax…..Urr, Linda, thank you Linda.” He turned and strode to the doors. He paused briefly, gave the librarian a brief smile and was gone.

  Linda turned to the computer screen and read the article about Grace Benjamin from start to back. When she finished she spent another ten minutes looking for a follow-up article on the girl, but couldn’t find one. Puzzled, she turned off all the computers and the printer, set the alarm, hit the light switch and locked the double doors behind her.

  seven

  Ed glanced at his watch. It was nearly 7pm and he hadn’t eaten since leaving Westerville at 10am that morning. As if in response his stomach rumbled ominously. A quick change of priority moved the pain-killers from the drug store to the mornings ‘to do’ list while food intake moved up. He had seen a restaurant not far from the main intersection but he wanted something quick and easy. He headed away from the town square and away from his motel, back towards the direction he had first come into town, in real life and in his dream. It didn’t take long at all to find the McDonalds chain store and order a large chicken burger meal with a coffee to go. It was a small town and he figured even though he was walking, the food would still be fairly hot when he got back to his room. Little traffic passed as he walked back to his accommodation, the roads seemed to be permanently quiet. His left hand stayed in his pocket while his right hand carried the brown paper bag with his meal in. Just a few kids remained outside the malt shop smoking or texting while a few more played on arcade video games inside. None of them took any notice of him as he walked by although as a precaution he swapped the food to his left hand and kept his right hand free. Old habits die hard. He turned right at the intersection onto Homestead Road, passed the bar and the gas station and finally back to the motel. He walked onto the motel lot and paused momentarily when he spotted a police cruiser parked in the bay next to his Mercury. The white four-door Ford Crown Victoria had the obligatory black bull-bar on the front and a thick black stripe running the length of the car that held Ludlow in white on the front panel and Emergency 911 on the rear fender. It was still light enough to see that an officer was sitting behind the wheel, the bright red glow of a cigarette breaking the shadows. The driver’s window was wound partly down and a small, lazy trail of smoke drifted out into the night air. On the ground beside the patrol car window were a number of discarded cigarette butts and matches. With so many other empty spaces in the car park, it seemed odd that a police officer would park right next to his car. He whipped through the day’s events in his mind with a thought as to if he had done anything illegal. Except that he had stopped on the side of the road by the town limits, he couldn’t think of anything else that law enforcement would be interested in, and that hadn’t been illegal. He walked straight up to his door and put the key in the slot. As he turned it and pushed into the room with his shoulder, he heard the click of the cruiser’s door open. The compartment light came on, shining down onto a nearly bald head. Although he could see with his peripheral vision the officer in his grey and brown uniform stepping out of his car and placing his hat carefully on his head, Ed carried on through and kicked the door closed behind him.

  No sooner had he placed his food bag on the table than there was a knock on the door. Ed opened the door to see the cop standing there, looking relaxed and friendly, a smile coming from the old face under the wide-brimmed drill-sergeant style hat but a smile that didn’t make it up to the officer’s eyes. They looked like two small black bottomless pits. “Evening to you, I’m Sheriff Rosen. Would you mind if I came in awhile?” The slow Texas drawl fitted the face perfectly. Without waiting for a response, he stepped past Ed into the dingy room, bringing a waft of stale cigarettes behind him. Rosen was a big man. Ed guessed he must have been nearly 6’ 3 in his black shiny boots, and weighed in at about 220lbs, but not much of that weight seemed to be wasted. The skeletal face under the hat had seen a lot of life, showing deep rivers and frown lines, the sun-damaged skin wrinkling as the police officer continued his smile; his teeth stained a dark yellow from thousands of cigarettes. Rosen looked to be near retirement age, if not over retirement age, but still not someone to be messed with. He reached up and slowly removed his hat then slowly ploughed his hand through his thinning grey flat-top buzz cut, every motion seemed to be measured and economical.

  “I was just about to eat.” exclaimed Ed.

  “Hell, don’t let me stop ya fella, ya’ll go on.” Rosen’s voice seemed as dry as the dusty car park outside. Ed opened the bag and pulled out a sealed cup of coffee, followed by a large bag of fries and lastly a burger wrapped in a card box.

  “What can I do for you Sheriff; I’m not in trouble am I?”

  “No Mr Saunders, you’re not in trouble, well, not yet anyhows.”

  “How do you know my name?” he asked surprised. His appetite seemed to be disappearing quite quickly.

  “I asked Sam at the reception of course. I like to know who I’m speaking too.” Ed made himself busy by taking the lid of his coffee then hunting around in the bottom of the bag for sugar, cream and the plastic stir stick.

  “If I’m not in trouble….yet, how can I help you?” His hands were busy pulling the lids from the tiny cartons of creamer, pouring four of them into his drink.

  “You just got into town and I hear you been asking around about a missing child, from way back, you an undercover reporter or something?”

  Ed ripped the tops off of three sugar sachets and poured them into the cardboard cup. “No, I’m not, I’m a computer salesman, didn’t Sam at the desk tell you that too?”

  “Of course he told me what you put down on your registration, but that don’t mean nothin’ now does it? Well, if you ain’t no undercover reporter then what’s yer interest in the girl?” Ed thought hard about how he could explain his interest in a missing child from forty odd years ago. He had wondered how he was going to explain it to Linda at the library too without sounding crazy.

  “Just curious. I was demonstrating a computer to a potential customer in the last place I was at, and I did a search on the internet about the next place I was going to. It’s something I always do, gives me a bit of a heads-up on my next destination and shows off the computer’s powers.”

  The smile never left Rosen’s face but his eyes were disbelieving. Ed continued, “I did a quick search for ‘Ludlow history’ and that story came up. I just wondered if she ever got found. But now I’m more curious. I only asked the guy behind the bar about this a couple of hours ago, and next thing I know you’re knocking on my door. He obviously called you as soon as I left him, so I’m guessing you must have started looking for me almost right away, which makes me wonder what’s so important that he would call you like that. So let me ask you something, why are you here at all?”

  The Sheriff’s constant smile was unnerving. Whether Rosen believed his story or not, he didn’t know. Unlikely, as it sounded pretty
lame to Ed, but it was the best he could come up with at short notice. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, he grabbed a handful of fries from the greasy paper bag and pushed them into his mouth.

  The smile finally left Rosen’s mouth.

  “I don’t have to explain nothin’ to you son, but I will, being as you’re a visitor an all. It was a traumatic experience for the whole community when little Gracie went missin’. Hell, just about everyone in town, including me, went lookin’ for her ‘cos she was a well-liked kid. Took a long time to get over it. There’s plenty o’ folks still around that remember her, including her pa, but I doubt she’s gonna walk back into town any time soon, so there ain’t no need to open up another bag of hurt for those folks, understand what I’m saying?”

  Ed thought about what the barman had said, how only a few people had searched for just two days before giving up. The barman’s story sounded nearer the truth than what the Sheriff was dishing out.

  “I understand completely officer and I have absolutely no wish to open up any ‘bags of hurt’ as you put it.”

  The smile had returned to Rosen’s lips.