The Companion

He still hadn’t gotten over losing Polly. The heart-wrenching loss was amplified by guilt. He had been driving her car when the drunk driver turned into them. It should have been him they buried.

Every night after work was the same routine. Come home, eat some carryout, do some reading. Right up until bedtime. Except for tonight. Despite knowing that he would spend the whole time thinking about her, he decided it was time to stop distracting himself. Besides, he couldn’t sleep, so a nice walk would be just the thing.

It was what realtors, and journalists covering crime stories, call a “leafy” neighborhood. Dark, with few streetlights, most illumination came from the porch and post lights dotted up and down the winding, hilly streets. It was a typical summer night in these parts, hot and humid, the air perfectly still. Just moving through it made you sweat. To him, the heat and humidity were comforting. This was home.

He let his mind go where it would, which was, of course, to the good times before the accident.

He was lost in this reverie when he heard a soft voice, “do you mind if I tag along?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he thought he must be the only one in the neighborhood still awake. All the houses were dark, and there wasn’t a car to be seen, not even a barking dog. Though the neighborhood was safe, it was still unusual to run into a woman walking alone at night. Maybe she was nervous.

“Sure.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before he worked up the nerve to ask “so what’s your name.”

She paused for a moment, “not important.”

No biggie. Maybe she wanted privacy, he could respect that. “So you must be from the neighborhood?”

“Hmmmm. Yeah, something like that.”

Okay, he decided. Why ruin it by prying. One of the gods had sent him a pretty woman to walk with and he wasn’t about to complain. He said nothing for the remainder of the walk. The two of them walked side by side, in silence, the only noise coming from a haughty owl.

They were a block from his house now and he started to say it had been nice to walk with her, but before he could speak, she said “good night Colt.”

Wait, what? How in the world did she know his college nickname was Colt? Only his old college buddies called him that. He turned to confront her, but she was gone.

Now he had a mystery to solve? Who was this woman? Where did she live? How did she know his nickname?

The Second Coming couldn’t have kept him from taking a walk the next night. He went at the same time. And once again, there she was. And just like before she said, “Goodnight, Colt.” Then she melted away.

This continued, and he was becoming a little obsessed. Not so much because she was a beautiful woman, though it didn’t hurt. No, he was obsessed with solving the mystery. At least once during every walk, he tried to pry something out of her. Nothing. But like clockwork there she was every night.

After about two weeks of this, it rained one night; rained hard. And so he stayed at home. Or at least that was the plan. But right around midnight, the same time he started his walk every evening, his doorbell rang. He ran to the door and threw it open. There, out by the curb, in the middle of the street, her hair drenched and plastered to her head, she stood…waiting. What was he to do?

Not willing to get drenched himself, he grabbed an umbrella and went out to meet her. Again, she said nothing but just started walking. And then she stopped and looked at him expectantly. He took the hint, and for the rest of the walk they shared the umbrella. Still saying nothing. That was their thing, and as weird as the whole thing was he was enjoying it very much. He hadn’t thought of Polly, not since the first night. Here was a woman that wanted nothing but his company. He wasn’t about to ruin it.

He resolved never to miss a night again, at least not until the mystery was solved, or she stopped coming. He was scared to death that one night she might not show up.

The next night, the night after they had shared the umbrella, she showed up right on schedule. But instead of walking apart, she moved in close, as if there were still an umbrella. They walked like that for a few minutes until she bumped shoulders with him a few times. He was a lot of things, but not slow. He reached over and took her hand. And, now, every night when they walked, wind, rain, snow, ice, whatever, they walked hand in hand.

Each night when they walked, he gave her space. Was this weird? It probably was weird, but it filled a need.

It was Christmas time now, and though he always liked to decorate, he realized he wanted to impress her. He didn’t know why, only that he was beginning to feel something. Something nice, but also something frustrating: he wanted more.

When they walked by the house, illuminated with colorful strands of lights, the place where she would normally have disappeared she just stopped and looked. Then she squeezed his hand a little tighter and said, “you’re ready, it’s time. She took him in tow and started for the front porch. His heart was racing, this was exactly what he wanted. He didn’t know anything good about her, only that she was gentle and empathetic. The only thing he knew they had in common was their walks. He was falling in love, and he was making falling in love decisions.

She asked “are you ready to be together? I think it’s time. I’ll never leave you.”

He laughed a bit nervously, “that sounds kind of final.”

“It is final. You need to come with me now Colt. She tugged at his hand, pulling him towards his house.

He couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing, he was feeling a little dizzy, his vision was fading in and out, and he thought he heard someone calling out to him. She was tugging harder at him and the other voice was getting louder. He could make it out now “don’t leave me, don’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you.” Who was he even talking to?

The dizziness was increasing and he was seeing lights. The voice came again “he’s moving! he’s moving!” She was tugging at his hand still harder, and saying something he couldn’t make out, trying to pull him into the house.

And then he only heard one voice “I thought I lost you.”

Things were coming into focus, someone was looking down at him. “Who? Where am I?”

“It’s me silly. You’re in the hospital.”

Her face was coming into focus, he was still foggy but he said “Polly? But…but you’re dead. You died in the accident. It should have been me. I’m sorry baby.”

She took his hand. “I’m fine. You’ve been unconscious for three days! Baby I thought you would never wake up.”

“She never told me her name.”

“Who babe? Who wouldn’t tell you her name?”

“An angel. I think she was an angel.”

Polly kissed him full on the mouth. Then wagged her finger playfully. “An angel eh? You bad boy. No wonder you didn’t wanna wake up.”

He and Polly were together the rest of their lives. But every once in awhile, when he was going for a walk, he could swear someone was following him.

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